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Three Men and a Maid By P. G. WODEHOUSE Copyright by George H. Doran Cos. WILL YOU?" Mrs Horace Hignett. world famous writer on theosophy, au thor of "The Spreading Light, etc. etc., arrives In New York on a lecturing tour. Eustace, her son is with her. Wlndles, ances tral home of the Hlgnetts. Is his so her life is largely devoted to keeping him unmarried. Enter her nephew, Sam. son of Sir Mai la by Marlowe, the eminent Lon don lawyer. It Is arranged that Sam and Eustace shall sail to -ether on the Atlantic the next day. Enter Bream Mortimer, American, son of a friend of! an Insufferable American Rennett, who has been Mrs. Illgnett to lease kindles, Bream Informs her that: Wil helmlna Bennett is waiting for Eustace at the Little Church Round the Corner. Bream him self is in love with Wilhelmina. Mrs. Hignett marches oft tojpus tace's room. The scene shifts to the Atlantic at her pier. Sam, beading for the gangplank meets a glorious, red-headed girl, with whom he Instantly falls In love, though her dog bites him. Eus tace appears, heart-broken. it appears that : hts mother had "pinched his trousers" and de layed the ceremony, whereupon Wilhelmina had declared the wed ding off. Sam Is pushed over board. has a desperate struggle in the water with another swim mer and rejoins the Atlantic at quarantine. The red-headed girl is Wilhelmina Bennett —“Billie.” She hails Sam as a hero and in troduces Bream. Eustace, a poor sailor, keeps to his berth. H© doesn’t know Billie is on board. Sam makes warm love. CHAPTER IV—Continued. —6— “Sorry! Tlie sun Is shining bright er than it has ever shone in the his tory of the race. Why don’t you get up?” • “Nothing will induce ine to get up.” “Well, go a regular buster and have an egg for breakfast.” Eustace Hignett shuddered. “Do you think I am an ostrich?” He eyed Sara sourly. “You seem dev ilish pleased with yourself this morn ing !” Sam dried the razor carefully and put it away. He hesitated. Then the desire to confide in somebody got the better of him. “The fact is,” he said apologetically, “I'm in love I” “In love!” Eustace Hignett sat np ouct bumped his head sharply against tlie berth above him. “Has this been going on long?” “Ever since the voyage started.” “I think you might have told me.” said Eustace reproachfully. “I told you my troubles. Why did you not let me know that this awful thing had come upon you?” "Well, as a matter of fact, old man, during these last few days I had a nrtiun that your mind was, so to speak, ■occupied elsewhere.” “Who Is she?” "Oil, a girl I met on board." “Don’t do it!” said Eustace Hignett solemnly. “As a friend I entreat you not to do it! Take my advice, as a man who knows women, and don’t do it!” “Don't do what?” "Propose to her. I can tell by the fi tter in your eye that you are In tending to propose to this girl—prob ably this morning. Don’t do It. Women are the devil, whether they m< rry you or Jilt you. Do you realize thit women wear black evening dresses that have to be hooked up i'. a hurry when you are late for the the ater. and that, out of sheer wanton malignity, the hooks and eyes on those dresses are also made black? Do you realize “ oh , I’ve thought it all out.” And take the matter of children, ’ould you like to become the ,at her and a mere glance around you "ill "how you that tlie chances are enormously In favor of such a thing •JPl'vnmg—of a boy with spectacles an, l Pretruding front teeth who asks Tiesn, ns all the time? Out of six Bmnb b °ys whom I saw when I came ird, four wore spectacles and r,a 'l teeth like rabbits. The other two pere equally revolting in different How would you like to be come the father . . . 1 8 no need t> be Indelicate,” m stiffly, “a man must take these rhances,” hep the miss.” mg - • Day down here for the rest voyage. You can easily dodge V f "? JOU to Southampton. ■ ne sends messages, say you’re 1 81 ;' 1 c n’t be disturbed." ,< - a7 ;' %d at hi m. revolted. More ft : be - an to understand how ( ; tha a girl with ideals had man til V'fv eDgasement with this e K at ! '!ur, f ‘ n L She< ? dressin S. am. after ug breakfast, went on deck. mo - ' I s . he hud sald - a glorious I.: .'• L rhe sample which he had r ’ • . llgb the Porthole had not pre ; or .h, maelc of e n In a vast bowl of the pur on an azure carpet flecked with silver. It was a morning which impelled a man to great deeds, a morn ing which shouted to him to chuck his chest out and be romantic. The sight of Billie Bennett, trim and gleaming In a pale green sweater ,nd a white skirt had the effect of causing Mar lowe to alter the program which he had sketched out. Proposing to this girl was not a thing to be put off till after lunch. It was a thing to be done now and at once. The finest efforts of the finest cooks in the world could not put him in better form than he felt at present "Good morning, Miss Bennett.” “Good morning, Mr. Marlowe." “Isn’t it a perfect day?” “Wonderful!’’ “It makes all the difference on board ship If the weather is fine." “Yes, doesn’t It?” “Shall we walk around?” said Billie. Sam glanced about him. It was the time of day when the promenade deck was always full. Passengers In co coons of rugs lay on chairs, waiting in a dull trance till the steward should arrive with the eleven o’clock soup. Others, more energetic, strode up and down. From the point of view of a man who wished to reveal his most sacred feelings to a beautiful girl, the place was practically Fifth avenue and Forty-second street. “It’s so crowded,” he said. “Let’s go onto the upper deck.” “All right. You can read to me. Go and fetch your Tennyson.” Sam felt that fortune was playing into his hands. His foyr-days’ ac quaintance with the bard had been suf ficient to show him that the man was there forty ways when it came to writ ing about love. You could open his collected works almost anywhere and shut your eyes and dab down your finger on some red-hot passage. A proposal of marriage is a thing which is rather difficult to bring neatly into the ordinary run of conversation. It wants leading up to. But, if you once start reading poetry, especially Ten nyson's, almost anything is apt to give you your cue. He bounded light heartedly into the stateroom, waking Eustace Hignett from an uneasy doze. “Now what?” said Eustace. “Where’s that copy of Tenuyson you gave me? I left it—ah, here it Is. Well, see you later!" “Wait! What are you going to do?” “Oh, that girl I told you about,” said Sam, making for the door. “She wants me to read Tennyson to her on the upper deck.” "Tennyson?” “Yes.” "On the upper deck?” “That’s the spot.” “This Is the end,” said Eustace Hig nett, turning his face to the wall. Sam raced up the companionway as far as it went; then, going out on deck, climbed a flight of steps and found himself in the only part of the ship which was ever even compara tively private. The main herd of pas sengers preferred the promenade deck, two layers below. He threaded his way through a maze of boats, ropes and curious-shaped steel structures which the architect of the ship seemed to have tacked on at the last moment in a spirit of sheer exuberance. Above him towered one of the funnels, before him a long, slender mast. He hurried on, and “How Jolly tor Her. Like Having a Circus All to Oneself.” presently came upon Billie sitting on a garden seat, backed by the white roof of the sniokeroom; beside this was a small deck which seemed to have lost Its way and strayed up here all by Itself. It was the deck on which one could occasionally see the patients playing an odd game with long sticks and bits of wood —not shuffleboard but something even lower in the mental scale. This morning, however, the devotees of this pastime were appar ently under proper restraint, for the deck was empty. THE DANIELSVILLE MONITOR, DANIELSVILLE, GEORGIA. “This is jolly,” he said, sitting down beside the girl and drawing a deep breath of satisfaction. “Yes, I love this deck. It’s so peaceful." “It’s the only part of the ship where you can be reasonably sure of not meeting stout men in flannels and nau tical caps. An ocean voyage always makes me wish that I had a private yacht.’ “It would be nice.” “A private yacht,” repeated Sam, sliding a trifle closer. “We would sail about, visiting desert Islands which lay like jewels in the heart of tropic seas.” “We?” “Most certainly we. It wouldn’t be any fun if you were not there.” “Thnt’s very complimentary.” “Well, it wouldn’t. I’m not fond of girls as a rule ...” “Oh, aren’t you?” “Nol” said Sam decidedly. It was a point which he wished to make clear nt the outset. “Not at nil fond. My friends have often remarked upon it. A palmist or.ee told me that I had one of those rare spiritual natures which cannot be satisfied with substitutes but must seek and seek till they find their soul-mate. When other men nil round me were frittering away their emotions In idle flirtations which did not touch their deeper natures, I wa ... I was . . . well, I wasn't, if you see what I mean.” , “Oh, you wasn’t . . . weren’t —?’’ “No. Some day I knew I should meet the only girl I could possibly love, and then I would pour out upon her the stored-up devotion of n life-time, lay nn unblemished heart at her feet, fold her In my arms and say, ‘At last!’ ” “How Jolly for her. Like having a circus all to oneself.” “Well, yes,” said Sam after a mo mentary pause. “When I was a child I always thought that that would be the most wonderful thing In the world." “The most wonderful thing In the world Is love, a pure and consuming love, a love which . . .” ”01i, hello 1” said a voice. All through this scene, right from the very beginning of it, Sam had not been able to rid himself of a feeling that there was something missing. The time and the place and the girl—they were all present and correct; never theless there was something missing, some familiar object which seemed to leave a gap. He now perceived that what had caused the feeling was the complete absence of Bream Mortimer. He was absent no longer, lie wus standing in front of them with one leg advanced, his head lowered as If he were waiting for someone to scratch it. Sum’s primary Impulse was to offer him a nut. “Oh, hello, Bream!” said Billie “Hullo 1” said Sjim. “Hullo!" said Bream Mortimer. “Here you are!” There was a pause. “I thought you might be here,” said Bream. “Yes, here we are,” said Billie. “Yes, we’re here,” said Sam. There was another pause. “Mind if I Join you?” said Bream. “N-no,” said Sam. “No,” said Billie again. “No . . . that is to say ... oh no, not at all.” There was a third pause. “On second thoughts,” said Bream, "I believe I’ll take n stroll on the promenade deck, If you don’t mind.” They said they didn’t mind. Bream Mortimer, having bumped his head twice against overhanging steel repes, melted away. “Who is that fellow?” demanded Sam wrathfully." “He’s the son of father’s best friend.” Sam started. Somehow this girl had always been so individual to him that he had never thought of her having a father. “We have known each other all onr lives,” continued Billie. “Father thinks a tremendous lot of Bream. I sup pose It was because Bream was sail ing by her that father Insisted on my coming over on this boat. I’m In dis grace. you know. I was cabled for and had to sail at a few days’ no tice. I . . “Oh, hello!” “Why, Bream!" said Billie, looking at him as lie stood on the old spot In the same familiar attitude with rather less affection than the son of her fa ther’s best friend might have expect ed. “I thought you said you were going down to the promenade deck." “I did go down to the promenade deck. And I’d hardly got there when n fellow who’s getting up the ship’s concert tomorrow night nobbled me to do a couple of songs. He wanted to know if I knew anyone else who would help. I came up to ask you," he said to Sam, “if you would do some thing.” “No,” said Sam. “I won’t.” “He’s got a man who’s going to lecture on deep-sea fish and a conple of women who both want to sing “The Rosary,’ but he’s still an act or two short. Sure you won’t rally round?" “Quite sure.” “Oli, all right.” Bream Mortimer hovered wistfully above theta. “It’s a great morning, isn’t it?” “Yes,” said Sam. “Oh, Bream!” said Billy. “Hello?’ “Do be a pet and go and talk to Jane Hubbard. Fm sure she must be feeling lonely. I left her all by her self down on the next deck." A look of alarm spread itself over Bream’s face. “Jane Hubbard 1 Oh, say, have a heart 1” “She’s a very nice girl.” “She's so darned dynnmlc. She looks at you as if you were n giraffe or something and she would like to take a pet at you with a rifle.” “Nonsense! Run along. Get her to tell you some of her big-game hunt ing experiences. They are most in teresting.” Bream drifted sadly away. “I don’t blame Miss Hubbard,” said Sam. “What do you mean?” “Looking at him as If she wanted to pot at him with a rifle. I should like to do it myself. What were you saying when he came up?” “Oh, don’t let's talk about me. Read me some Tennyson.” Sam opened the book very willingly. Infernal Bream Mortimer had abso luetly shot to pieces the spell which had begun to full on them at the be ginning of their conversation. Only by reading poetry, it seemed to him, could it be recovered. And when lie saw the passage at which the volume had opened he realized that his luck was In. Good old Tennyson 1 He was all right. He had' the stuff. You could send him to hit In a pinch every time with the comfortable knowledge that he would not strike out. He cleared bis throat. • v t "Oh let the solli" ground Not fall beneath my feet Befo.-o my life Ims found What some have found so sweet; Then let come what come may. What matter If I go mad, I shall have had my day. Let the sweet heavens endure. Not close and darken above me Before 1 am quite quite sure That there Is one to love me. . . .” This was absolutely topping. It was like diving off n springboard. lie could see the girl sitting with a soft smile on her face, her eyes, big and trenmy, gazing out over the sunlit s oS. He laid down the book and took her hnnd. “There is something,” he begun in a low voice, “which I have been trying to say ever since we met, something which I think you must have rea ' in my eyes.” Her head was bent She did not withdraw her hand. “Until this voyage began," he went on, “I did rot know wliat life mean*.. And then I saw you ! It was like the gate of heaven opening. Y’ou’re the dearest girl I ever met, and you can bet I’ll never forget . . ." He stopped. “I’m not trying to make It rhyme,” he said apologetically. “Bil lie, don’t think me silly ... I mean ... if you had the merest notion, dearest ... I don’t know what’s the matter with me . . . Billie, darling, you are the only girl in the world! I have been looking for you for years and years and I have found you nt Inst, my soul-mate. Surely this does ,not come us a sur prise to you? That is, I mean, you must have seen that I’ve been keen. . There’s that d— and Walt Mason stuff again!” His eyes fell on the volume beside him and he uttered un exclamation of enlightenment “It’s those poems,” he cried. “I’ve been boning them up to such an extent that they’ve got me doing it, too. What I’m trying to say is. Will you marry me?” She was drooping toward him. Her face was very sweet and tender, her eyes misty. He slid an arm about her wuist. She raised her lips to his. #•••*•• Suddenly she drew herself away, a cloud on her face. “Darling,” she said “I’ve a confes sion to make.” “A confession? You? Nonsense 1” “I can’t get rid of a horribh thought. I wus wondering If this will lust.” “Our love? Don’t be afraid that it will fade ... I mean . . . why, it’s so vast It’s hound to last . . that Is to say, of course it will.’’ “The girl you are engaged to Is the same girl who promised to marry me." 65 (TO BE CONTINUED.) Origin of “Dumdum.” The hollow-nosed “dumdum” bullets got their name from the place where they were manufactured. Dumdum is a town in British India, In the di vision of Bengal. It was the head quarters of the Bengal artillery In the early eighties. At the Hague confer ence the use of the bullets was for bidden by International agreement. Bejum of Bhopal. India’s only woman ruler, the Be gum of Bhopal, has proclaimed pro hibition In her state. Bhopal has an area of 6,000 square miles and a popu lation of about a million. Sneezing Brought Good Luck. Our forefathers believed that a sneeze brought good luck. Just S~~| Little^ JJsnSig WORTH IT An old Scotsmnn, dictating his will, said: “I give and bequeath to my wife the sum of £IOO a year. Is that writ doon?” "Yes," said the lawyer; "but she may marry again. Won’t you make any chunge In that case? Most people do.” “Ah, weel, write again, and say: If my wife marry again I give and be quenth to her the sum of £2OO a year.' That’ll dae eh?” “Why, thnt’s just double the sum she would have had If she hnd re mained unmarried,” said the lawyer. “It Is usually the other way." “Aye,” said the Scotsman, “but hhn that taks her wall deserve it.” POPULAR MUSIC Minister—What class of music would please our congregation best? Orgunist—The lullaby I think. Obligations. Debt could not spoil this life so gay With Irritating chatter \f each could Hay, “I cannot pay," And thereby end the matter. Finished Cornetist. “Fred Jenks Is your neighbor now, isn’t he?” remarked a man while call ing on a friend one evening. “Who did you say?” “Fred Jenks. I understand he Is a finished cornetist." “Is he? Good! Who did it?” Had No Reproaches. Wife —Don’t you think It’s n shame for me to he going to church alone every Sunday? Hub —Oh, I don’t know. You might be doing something worse. WORSE AND WORSE Sister —1 wish you wouldn’t butt in when Charlie’s here, you know how anxious I am to marry him. Bobble—That’s what I told him. Irresponsible Publication. The paper mark doth hut deceive The eye that taken a squint. You're not expected to believe All that you see In print. A Little Christening. Customer —Waiter, do you call this oyster soup? Why, the oyster In it Isn’t big enough to flavor It! Walter —He wasn’t put In to flavor It, sir. He’s Just supposed to christen It. A Real Performance. “They keep two servants.” “I wonder how they do it? I have difficulty getting one to stay longer >hun two weeks.” How Benedict Saw It. She —When we were married yon itald I was the sun of your existence. He —Well, you do make It pretty hot for me sometimes. Long Time Between Meals. Housewife —I don’t believe you’ve washed yourself In the last year. Trarnt) —You are right, ludy. I wash inysedf only before I eat. Papa and His Flivver. “What’s the trouble?” “The car won’t run.” “What’s the matter?” "Fa’s been fixing It again.”