Newspaper Page Text
THE GEORGIAN'S MAGAZINE PAGE
* Hunting a Husband *
No. 3—A Strange Mischance Keeps the Widow and Her Would Be Suitor Apart
at a Friend s Dinner.
THE day after Beatrices call upon
Mrs. Robbins she wrote that lady
a letter stating that she found it
possible to break her previous engage
ment for the following Wednesday
evening, and would be glad to accept
Mrs. Robbins’ delightful invitation for
that night. The epistle brought a
note in reply from Helen, saying that
she was overjoyed at the prospect of
seeing Beatrice at her dinner.
"I am glad,” she wrote, "that you
succeeded in extricating yourself from
the other engagement you mentioned.
I know, dear, that I vexed you when
you were at my house by speaking as
I did of Robert Maynard, but 1 did not
understand that you felt as you do. My
liking for him must be my excuse for
forgetting that you might not like him.
forgive me, and 'believe that I will try
to make matters more pleasant for you
the next time you come to my home.”
The note puzzled the recipient. What
did Helen mean by saying that she did
not understand how her friend felt?
Did she suspect that Beatrice had re
sented her match-making propensities?
Well, never mind—there was no use in
wondering! One thing was certain—
Helen was giving a dinner at which
she had promised to have Beatrice the
guest of honor, and had said that Rob
ert Maynard was to sit next to her. At
first Beatrice had, it is true, been a lit
tle annoyed. Now she was glad that
the arrangement had been made. 3for
she acknowledged to herself that Mr.
Maynard was an unusually good-look
ing man and had seemed well worth
while. It was a pity he was a widow
er, and yet, as Helen had said, such
often made very good husbands to
theh second wives.
She checked her’thoughts abruptly
Was she considering this man as a pos
sible husband after meeting him only
once, and before she had really laid
aside her mourning for Tom?
The New Party Dress.
This was, however, one of the. occa
sions upon which she might indulge her
love for dress. It was so long since
she had been to a regular dinner party
that she was quite excited in preparing
for it. After looking through her ward
robe and tending nothing that quite
suited her, she sent for a little dress
maker who always did her sewing, and
between them ’they made the dainty
gown which the young widow had de
signed.
It was a soft, clinging, pearl-gray
satin that shimmered into silvery high
lights. It was, of course, decollete, and
folds of delicate white lace finished it
at the shoulders. The rather severe
outlines of. the gown were planned to
emphasize the wearer's exquisite fig
ure. She was aware that the only
flowers to be worn with this costume
were English violets, and she stifled a
pang of conscience which accused her
of extravagance when she fastened the
large corsage bouquet of these blossoms
in place. The effect amply compensated
her for her pains when she surveyed
herself in her mirror. The children
exclaimed with joy, Jack, the elder, ad
miring "the beautiful flowers,” and Jean
touching with reverent and tiny fingers
- * the shining train, and babbling about
the time when she should be “a big
lady” and have a dress "jes' like
mamma's."
Even in her excitement Beatrice
waited to see Jack tucked warmly into
his crib and Jean in the bed which the
little one shared with her mother.
Then, kissing each child good-night, she
hurried from the room and, with a part
ing order to her maid of all work, went
down to the cab that waited for her.
"1 will ride to the dinner in a taxi,”
had been her decision “as I can not
go alone in a street car in evening
dress. Probably Mr. Maynard will
bring me home."
Several guests had arrived before
Beatrice, and Helen Robbins' greeting
was So cordial that the newcomer's
heart warmed to her. The two chatted
gayly for a minute or two before the
arrival of the last guests. Among these
was Robert Maynard. By the time he
had greeted his hostess and turned for
r - r •, —•x
t • - s - t****-? ■■ ?4ttiifcir ! 4 -
f f Jr- .... -i ? - i?
■' ' ■
.
. ~~
j There is appetite and good digestion
in a steaming dish of Faust Macaroni
. ? 11 - ■ %
i •?.' —strength and energy, too. Jc W ;
and 10c packages at your grocer s. •*/
MAULL BROS.. St. Louis. Mo.
! '~ •■ ■ - - ■
OUR DIAMONDS
ARE CORRECTLY GRADED
It is not only in justice to our customers that we ex
ercise extreme care in the grading of our diamonds, but
to us as well. To be able to determine their worth it is
absolutely essential for the one so entrusted to possess a
keen knowledge of them. This knowledge can not be
gained except from long study and experience. We do
not believe that there is one better suited for the work
than has charge of this particular feature of our business.
Every stone that goes into our stock is first weighed,
thoroughly examined in every particular, and every fea
ture. whether favorable or unfavorable, is recorded in a
manner that makes it possible for our customer to pur
chase here with positively nothing to risk.
We invite you to see our splendid display, confident
in the belief that greater values can not be obtained any
where.
Selection packages sent anywhere upon request.
(J^UGENEVfIAYNES Qo)
»” * ~ HIT r I. < AT r<>—
By VIRGINIA T. VAN DE WATER
a word with Beatrice, dinner was an
nounced, and Mrs. Robbins said:
"Mr. Maynard, will you please take
my husband's niece. Miss Spaulding,
out to dinner? And, John,” turning to
Mr. Robbins, "please give Mrs. Minor
your arm and put her at your right
hand at table.” And, as the party
started toward the dining room, she
whispered Into the astounded woman s
ear:
"You see, dear, I'm giving you the
place of honor by my John, and I shall
seat dear Uncle Henry the other side
of you. He is not much of a talker,
but he loves to listen to a bright wom
an. 1 meant to put Robert Maynard
there, but when I saw how the sug
gestion annoyed you the other day, and
that you did ijot fancy him. 1 altered
my plans."
With which electrifying statement
she swept into the dining room and di
rected the guests to their various
chairs.
Beatrice’s face showed no signs of
her inward disappointment and resent
ment. Her thoughts worked rapidly,
and Helen Robbins had not exagger
ated when she had suggested that she
was a clever woman, for her wits did
not fail her in this exigency. If her
hostess had meant to annoy hpr, she
would find tier guest too proud to no
tice it; if Helen had simply been tact
less. it would be rude to seem to see
her mis lake.
Therefore, by the time the company
were seated Beatrice Minor, her heart
beating heavily with regret and chagrin,
was chatting brightly with her host on
one hand and with her hostess’ bache
lor uncle on the other. And Helen
Robbins, watching keenly from her
end of the table, saw from Robert
Maynard's wandering eyes that he
thought the widow seated at the other
side of the board more attractive than
the dainty little girl assigned to him.
But by the time that Beatrice glanced
in his direction he had looked away
and was listening with apparent Inter
est to what his companion was saying.
The repast went off pleasantly, and
when the ladles adjourned to the draw
ing room. leaving the men to their ci
gars in the dining room, Beatrice sought
out little Miss Spaulding and conversed
with her so charmingly that as the
men appeared upon the scene the young
girl hastened to inform Mr. Maynard of
what "a lovely woman” Mrs. Minor
was, but. when she turned to draw her
into the conversation, she found that
Beatrice had slipped away and was al
ready talking again animatedly with the
old bachelor who had sat by her dur
ing dinner.
Helen, also noting this, remembered
•'Uncle Henry’s" money, and had an
uneasy doubt as to whether her move
In separating Robert Maynard from
Helen had been quite as wise as shd
had thought it when she planned it.
She could not know that in' her heart
Beatrice was still resentful, and that
she found "Uncle Henry” very stupid.
Frightened Him Off.
Yet. when relief in the shape of Rob
ert Maynard appeared at her side, her
manner was so forbidding that he did
not venture to suggest that he accom
pany her home. In fact, he had talk
ed with her for hardly more than a
minute when she asked her hostess’s
permission to "telephone for a taxi, as
it was getting late.” She had not
intended to do this, but her pride made
her forget her purse. As she left the
room, she heard Robert Maynard ask
little Maude Spaulding if he might es
cort her to her near-by house. The fact
ihat “Uncle Henry” saw Beatrice to
her cab and asked if she were not
afraid to ride home alone did not com
pensate the widow for her disappoint
ment.
Perhaps, however, she would have
been less depressed if she had known
that her hostess, noting the elderly
man’s unusual attentions to his fair
guest, hoped inwardly that "Uncle Hen
ry. at his age. was not going to make
a fool of himself!”
A Story of Japanese Plotters,
1 iIJIL 1 irnUUIN Love, Mystery and Tragedy
Ha was so weak he could not even protest. Then she made him get out
o’ h>s stiff little work chair and placed him m a big armchair .■ .th -ii<h. O n-
packed all around him.
==■*'’4te?®®®®®®
W-
IAJ V> 1 v
ft Wviii
I -a 4 ‘ 1 I AsMfeWW
I j SI Ik
T*- 1 J—> y « V Iw
a. M9E"
* ■ ' HP
' ' W!I &
18/ ItH
w a H
Mte -T ■ Offil Kb
Ifh -Wifei® :
rafli ami ’W
aWBwMI IS
oft/
(Based on the drama of that name as
played by Walker Whiteside.)
By J. W. M’CONAUGHY.
Copyright, 1912, by The New York Even
ing Journal Publishing Company.
“That is surely enough for today, Toko
ramo,” she said in a gentle voice of com
mand. There are few women who do
not find a deep and sincere satisfaction in
half-nursing, half-bossing a man who
either will not or does not know how to
take care of himself. And in the bot
tom of his weary, fevered brain Toko
ramo was for the first time grateful to
the Powers That Be for implanting this
lust of mothering in the heart of wo
men.
But he shook his head weakly and his
voice when he Replied was so changed that
It frightened the girl.
“There is so little time, my child, and
so much to do." Yet he put down his
brush and sank back in his chair, his
eyes reeling before the lids closed down
on them and his breath coming in long,
quivering sighs.
“Tokoramo, you are ill' again!" ex
claimed the girl, in the manner of one
making a criminal charge “You are
worse tonight that I have ever seen
you.”
He waved his hand languidly and tried
io smile.
‘lt is nothing—nothing," he murmur
ed.
“You are ill!” insisted the girl. “Shan’t
1 call up Dr. Omayi? Here!" she ran into
the bedroom and came out with a bottle
of medicine which he had pointed out to
her. with a laugh, as a stimulant Dr
Omayi had given him. The bottle was
full. She read the directions, which were
In German, mixed up a dose in a tumbler
of water, held it to his lips and forced
him to drink it He was so weak that
he could not even protest. Then she
made him get out of his stiff little work
chair —with her help —and placed him in
a big arm chair with cushions packed in
all around him.
He submitted with a smile that was
half amusement and half gratitude and
wholly, pitifully weary
“I am a Samurai,” he said whimsically
“My clan would be proud of me now.”
“1 don’t know what you mean,” said
Teri, “but 1 do know that you are a very
I PICTU RE I
| FRAMES |
§ Made to g
IORDER |
| EXPERT WORK I
|l AND if
iGAVAN’Sj
■_ 71 WHITEHA II > 4
sick man And you must get well! You
are going out to the country, where 1
was. A few weeks there and you will be
yourself again.”
Tokoramo shook his head wearily and
hitched the arm chair up to the desk.
“I have my work to finish,” he said.
“Os course you have!” retorted the girl,
“but you don’t have to finish it tonight or
this week or this month. Why do you
want to torture and kill yourself when
you are so sick you can hardly hold up
your head? Who demands that sort of
work of a man?”
“I do. my child. 1 demand it of my
self." As the medicine began to work
his eyes grew brighter and his voice
stronger. He dabbed a brush in the ink.
“But you can not do it—you can not
stand it!” cried the girl, a spot of color
in her cheeks. “Here! Come away from
that desk.” She seized the armchair and
wheeled it over by the table before he
could rise or protest. On the table was
an enormous bunch of fresh chrysanthe
mums in a tall vase.
“See!” she exclaimed, as you would try
to interest a child, “what beautiful flow
ers I have brought you!”
“Yes, they are lovely." he said softly,
ami the gardens of Tokio —the lovely
Tokio that he must never see again
passed before his eyes. “Teri, my child,
you are too good! You are too good to
me!”
She laid her fipgers across his lips, and
there was a look in her eyes as they rest -
ed on the dark head beneath her that
Illona would not have approved of.
“Be still, my friend!” she said gently.
“I am never happy now excepting when
I am helping you. Could I stand aside
like a stranger when you are so weak
so worried? 1 know that this is the time
you need a woman. Your friends they
are all right. I suppose, but they can not
understand and sympathize and help as
a woman can.”
Tokoramo drew her hand down over his
shoulder, patted and kissed it lightly.
“You are the best the dearest girl in
Germany.” be said softly. “Ah! You do
not understand that you must not keep
me from my work, but J wish I could
show you that I am grateful!”
• “You can —by being obedient and lot
ting me take care of you,” replied the
girl. She stroked his hair softly and went
on in a low. soothing voice. “You do not
know how much it means, Tokoramo.
to—-to a woman, especially <<ne that has
lived as I have when a man is ill and
she can nurse him back to health. He
becomes again like a little child, and
whether we bear children or not we are
all mothers at heart. She can mother
him nurse him -love him teach him to
depend on her to need her. Then he
grows strong—-and gets up and laughs
and and goes back home back to
Japan."
She paused and he stirred under her
hand.
“Nippon! Nippon!” he murmured sad
ly. under his breath. “How far away"
“No, no! Not far!” she interrupted,
w ith a little admonitory pat on her ha ml
“.Just a short pleasure trip It is not far
to Japan, Tokoramo.’
Tokoramo rested his head against the
back of the chair and closed his eyes.
“Teri,” he sa•d, in a low but steady
voice. “I shall never see my home
again I”
The girl’s eyes were wide with a sud
den alarm, but she tried to speak lightly.
“Nonsense! You are not the kind of u
man to give up like this. You don’t want
me to think that you are not trying to
get well, do you?”
“It would be no use to try. Teri." he
replied quietly, but his voice was weak
and old again, “for me there is no get
ting well. My trouble is here!" And he
pressed a hand to his forehead “It is
incurable!”
“I know! ’ said the. girl softly, ami she
slipped an arm around his neck and
pressed his head to her “You are think
ing about Illona again’ Don t trouble!
You musn’t think about her that way It
can’t be helped.”
He gazed fearfully at the dark por
tieres that cut off the view of the bed
room ami shuddered.
“Sometimes 1 think that I shall hear
her scream every moment!" he whispered
hoarsely.
“You must not! Stop. Tokoramo!”
cried Teri. “Eor my sake don’t torture
yourself so! You are a child —frighten-
ing, killing yourself with your imagina
tion. You did not kill her. You ought to
go away from this place at once. If you
were not here in this room all the time
you wouldn’t have these horrible
thoughts.”
“No, it isn’t horrible,” he said in a
half whisper. “Sometimes I think she is
here —that I can feel her —see her.”
With a gasp 'Feri pressed her hand over
his mouth and cut off the words.
“You mustn’t!” she panted, looking
fearfully about her as if imbued with his
superstition. “You will go crazy! You
must go away from her!”
He <dl<l not speak again ami for a long
lime they sat in a silence that slowly
made fbr the peace of mind of both.
There was comfort for both of them 4n
being close together.
To Be Continued in Next Tcsua.
L— ■ .■»
WOMAN DIZZY
PARTLYNUMBi
Doctors Did Her No Good —
Testifies How She Was
Helped by Lydia E. Pink
ham’s Compound.
Zanesville,Ohio. “Last fail I had fe
male weakness very bad, and was ner-
vous and run down.
I was dizzy and had
numb feelings and
my eyes ached. 1
took doctor’s medi
cines but they did
me no good, bo I de
cided to try Lydia E.
: Pinkham’s Vegeta-
S ble Compound. I did
\ so, and now I feel
t stronger and better.
J I have told other
pt -e
women what Mrs. Pinkham’s medicines
have done for me and give you permis
sion to publish this letter for the good of
others.”—Mrs. Hulda Erickson, 506
Maysville Avenue, Zanesville, Ohio.
More Proof.
Burlington, lowa. —“For years I suf
fered a great deal from female troubles. I
I had awful pains and felt sick nearly all'
the time. J. saw Lydia E. Pinkham’a
Vegetable Compound advertised and
heard that it had helped other suffering :
women so I felt sure it would do me
good. Sure enough it did. The first;
bottle helped me and now I am a strong
and well woman. I would not be with
out it in the house.”—Mrs. Anna Hig
gins, 1125 Agency St., Burlington, lowa. |
There need be no doubt about the 1
ability of this grand old remedy, made
from the roots and herbapf our fields, to
remedy woman’s diseases. We possess
volumes of proof of this fact, enough
to convince the most skeptical. Why
don’t you try it? i
The Great Road Problem
A Commentary on the Good Roade Question at Described in "Motor" Maga
zine For May
PICKING up the magazine called
MOTOR the other day, I became
unexpectedly and deeply interest
ed in the wonderful exposition which I
found there of the present state of one
of the greatest practical problems with
which this great country of ours is
confronted, a problem for the solution
of which the motor car is doing more
than all other influences combined. I
advise everybody, whether owner of a
car or not. to read the May number of
that magazine, for it will open every
body's eyes to many things about which
everybody ought to think, and concern
ing which everybody ought to have
some knowledge.
Did you know that we have In this
country 2,199,645 miles of highways—
enough in aggregate length to mtike
FOUR CONTINUOUS LOOPS
AROUND THE EARTH AND THE
MOON—and that, although this is more
than twice the length of all the high
ways in crowded Europe only 190,489
miles of these highways are improved
—i. e. graded, drained and surfaced
with hard material —while practically
ALE THE EUROPEAN ROADS are
thus improved?
And did you also know that most of
the improved roads that we do possess
have been made in consequence of the
demands of the users of motor cars and
motor trucks? The benefit accrues to
ALL —to every user of the roads,
whether for walking, driving for pleas
ure, or carrying products to market —
but the Impulse producing the improve
ment comes, almost entirely, from the
urging of those who ride in motor cars.
In helping themselves they are helping
all others.
There is nothing that strikes the vis.
itor from Europe so unpleasantly as
soon as he ventures oeyond the neigh
borhood of our great cities as the
abominable condition of the majority
of our country roads. Their lack of
everything which he has been taught
to regard as indispensable In a highway
frequently makes him jump to the con
clusion that after all this marvelous
nation is but half civilized.
Such a conclusion is, of course, un
justified. and yet one can understand
how ft is reached. The visitor does not
reflect upon the fact that we. even with
our vertiginous rapidity of execution,
have not vet had time enough to reform
the face of the land. The United States
has had to begin at the beginning. We
never had a line of imperial Caesars
at work for a thousand years, or a Na
poleon leading conquering armies to
give us a great framework of solid
highways to start with. We have had
to lay all the foundations ourselves.
rx /f ORUME \JWI7>
II
Anty Drudge on Mending.
Afrs. Housewife —“I seem to do nothing but mend and
darn all the time. Half the clothes are full of holes
after a few washings. ”
Anty Drudge—“TVs the boiling of your clothes in the
wash that causes you all this work, Dearie. Boiling
weakens them and makes them soft just as it does
meat or vegetables. Use Fels-Naptha soap in cold
or lukewarm water and the clothes will wear much
longer.”
Did you ever wear homespun : Prob
ably not, but your parents did. Old-time
clothes were coarse and tough, able to
stand the boiling and rubbing and pound
ing of the old -fashioned way of washing.
The delicate fabrics of to-day won't
stand it. Perhaps your clothes are boiled
and rubbed hard, and that is why they get
frayed edges, tear easily, and wear out
before their time.
I’els- Naptha soap is the modern way
of washing. It cleanses clothes thorough
ly in cold or lukewarm water —no boiling,
no hard-rubbing, little time.
Follow directions on rhe red and green
wrapper.
By GARRETT P. SERVISS.
The coming of the motor car has been
for us a greater stimulus to the con
struction of lasting roads than the ne
cessities of marching armies have been
in Europe, but this stimulus has been
at work for only a. few years, in con
trast with the centuries during which
the European countries have seen their
roads improving, with all the armed
power of jealous governments pushing
on the work. But. now that the work
has been begun here, it is going for
ward at an astonishing rate. A simple
comparison of the annual expenditures
on roads, which I borrow from MOTOR,
will tell the story of American prog
ress better than a page of words could
do it.
The United States now expends every
year on the building and maintenance
of roads the sum of 9142,000,000. France
expends 853,000,000, Germany $66,840,-
000, England $80,000,000. for the same
purpose. But In Europe the money is
spent for MAINTENANCE—the roads
are already good—while here a very
large per cent must be expended for
PRELIMINARY CONSTRU CTION,
The United States have 40.5 yards of
highway for every inhabitant. Europe,
with three times the aggregate popula
tion, has only 4.9 yards for every in
habitant. But the European roads are
all good, though they vary in quality,
while only seven per cent of our roads
are good
But read what Is being done in all
parts of our country, wherever the mo
tor car is employed. Read of the ac- I ,
counts of the progress of the movement
for "better roads in Dixieland.” Read
of what has been done, and ia being
done, in the middle West and along the
wonderful Pacific coast. Look at soma
of the pictures of these roads, which do
not stop for mountains or glaciers, of
any natural obstacle, and you will
quickly be convinced that we are at
the beginning of a revolution In road
making which will place us at the fore
front.
This Is a work In which every citi
zen should aid with all his force and
Influence. It ia as important to the
farmer—and even far more Important
—that all our roads should be brought
up at least to the European standard..
as it is to the simple pleasure seeker
In fact, this work is not being done
for the pleasure seeker, but for the
whole people, and it is a case in whlcff
the instinct of pleasure-seeking admir
ably serves the needs of the work-a
day world. We may thank our stars
that we have NOT HAD A NAPO
LEON, but have had THE MOTOR
CAR to convince us of the necessity of
good roads.