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“THE GATES OF SILENCE”
FIRST READ THISt—
BETTY LUMSDEN, the charming young daughter of
SIR GEORGE LUMSDEN, promises to marry b
JACK RIMMINGTON. the man with a secret and the rival m the affections of
a millionaire, who is favored as Betty's suitor by the girl's father,
but whom Betty herself secretly hates.
—Now Go On With the Story
"Oh. you mustn’t be sorry,” he said
lightly ' It's the fortune of war I think
If I had seen your eyes. Miss Betty. I
should not hare ridden for a fall; for the
stars have lost their way In them. It's
Rimington. I suppose?” The words of
another man would have been imperti
nent; strangely enough, on these smooth
Ups they did not seem so tn Betty. Her
color deepened, and her eyes were kind.
Saxe put out his hand with a friendly
gesture ”1 congratulate you both,” he
said, "You on your splendid happiness,
and Rimington on what 1 would have
given the word to gain "
It was gracefully done. The distrust in
Betty's heart seemed to evaporate before
the smile of the man who took defeat so
gamely Her hands closed on his with
an impulsive pressure
"Ah. thank you so much." she said. "It
Is true Mr. Rimington and I are en
gaged For the present the engagement
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is a secret from the World; but to you—
it's a confidence."
Her head was bent, or she could not
have failed to see the sudden upleaping
look in those liquid eyes that was begot
ten of neither friendship nor generosity.
"You make me very proud by saying
that. Miss Betty. A share in a secret
makes friends even of enemies. I want
you to regard me as a real friend.”
"Indeed. I do.” She would have re
leased her hands, but he held them in a
light, firm clasp.
"A real, solid friend,” Saxe said, "who
can he depended on in emergencies. Re
member, 1 am at your service—in any
way. in all ways—always I would like
to be of service to Mr. Rlmmington, too;
but he doesn't like ine. I am afraid."
There was something in the tone which
spoke of the feeling being mutual; vaguely
Betty was conscious of that
"Why. how absurd,” she said. "Hd
hardly knows you.”
"But so much as he knows he doesn't
like." Saxe said, brusquely. "But we
must alter that. I hope I'm not less
modest than most men, but I can see
that he might one of these days find my
friendship not so despicable a thing after
all. You mustn’t think me cynical, but
ft's not always sunshine”
“Oh. please—l want today to think that
it Is!” Betty cried, impulsively: “Why,
1 believe you are actually apologizing for
offering very delightfully what half the
■world is clamoring so friendship.”
"My money, you mean!” Saxe looked
at her as she stood holding back from
him; the delicate color deepened on her
cheeks, her gray eyes darkened. Some
thing in his eyes seemed to send a thrdi
scorching along her nerves like flame;
her eyes feU, and as. almost roughly, he
released her hands and walked on, she
followed him in silence, her cheeks ablaze
with an embarrassment for which she
hated herself.
Surprising News.
The sound -of voices and a woman's
light laugh came to them through the
trees. Betty started
“Good gracious! Who’s that? Do you
know, for a moment I almost thought it
was Edith’s voice," she said, quickly.
"It is Mrs. Barrington. Didn't you ex
pect her?" Saxe asked, in obvious sur
prise.
"Expect her - no! I thought Anthony
was tied hand and foot to Paris for an
other fortnight at least.”
"Mr. Barrington is still in Paris."
Betty gave a little gasp of surprise.
THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN AND NEWS: WEDNESDAY, MAY 29. 1912.
"Why, how extraordinary!”
"Extraordinary! Why on earth do you
say that?" Saxe's tone was lightly
amused, but his eyes, between their nar
rowed lids, showed a gleam of yellow, like
the under-markings of a snake.
"Oh —don't you know? It’s a standing
joke in the family—more than a joke to
my father-—that Anthony can not bear to
let Edith out of his sight for two days in
succession. He's a dear, but he really
does make a frightful ass of himself over
Edith.”
It seemed to Saxe that a look of ap
prehension had come into Betty’s eyes as
they looked across the lawn to the chairs
under the cedars and to the slim woman
who, as they appeared, rose quickly and
came across the lawn to meet them.
And why should Mrs. Barrington's un
expected arrival at her father’s house fill
the sister who so frankly adored her with'
any spirit of apprehension' 1
That was the question Paul , Saxe
asked himself as he watched the sisters
kiss each other tenderly.
“An extraordinary surprise. Betty.” Sit
George Lumsden said, coming behind his
elder daughter. "The age of miracles is
not past, surely, since Edith has actually
condescended to visit us alone."
"Father’s really indignant that I didn't
take up my quarters at the Weybourne
Arms.” Mrs. Barrington said, smiling.
She was taller than Betty and very slen
der; as dark as Betty was fair, with a
skin of the most exquisitely smooth pal
lor, like the leaf of a very perfect white
rose.
"1 wonder you didn't—'pon my soul. I
A Story of Love, Mystery and Hate, ivith a
Thrilling Portrayal of Life Behind Prison Bars
do.” Sir George said. "I wonder that
sultanesque husband of yours didn’t make
it a condition.” He was a small man,
with a face like a mild-mannered bird of
prey. Its healthy red deepened to pur
ple as he spoke. The thought of An
thony Barrington’s jealous worship of his
wife had always the power to stir him
to the verge of apoplexy.
Paul Saxe, who was accustomed to his
host’s outbursts, intervened with some
tactful remark that drew' his attention
instantly, and the sisters found them
selves alone for an instant.
"Dear old girl—what amazing good
luck blew you here today? ’ Betty said,
passing her arm through Mrs. Barring
ton's. The affection and confidence be
tween the sisters w'as very strong—
stronger even that the world suspected
though their devotion was proverbial. “I
think my fairy godmother must have
sent you just when I wanted you most.
Let’s get away from these men as soon
as we can. I've got such —such heaps to
tel) you."
“Have you, little cat?” Mrs. Barring
ton’s lips smiled, but her eyes were ab
sent. "Presently, then. But I want to
talk to father for a little while. That’s
what I came for, really.”
"To see father?" Nothing could have
exceeded Betty’s amazement.
"Yes —on business. Don't let us stand
talking here. He'll think we're discuss
ing him, and he hates that."
She shook Betty's hand off her arm
and went forward, leaving Betty alone.
It was ridiculous; Betty told herself so
Ub By META SIMMINS
Author of “Hushed Up”
more than once, but she felt strangely
chilled —as though, for the second time
that day, a shadow had fallen across her
happiness.
• • • •
Betty Lumsden came slowly into *ner
bedroom. It was a fancy of ners never
to have blinds or curtains drawn on
these summer nights, and the room w'as
filled with a soft twilight and the cool
air, sweet with the fragrance of the
night-scented stock that grew beneath
the window. She left the door ajar and
went to the window. Her eyes softened
as she looked across to the trees thread
ed by the silver line of the river She
supposed Jack speeding across Eng
land now: for the moment she seemed
to'be present with him in the carriage,
she could feel it sway beneath her as the
engine throbbed and panted, carrying its
gleaming trail through woods where th.e
trees stood out against the sky as though
carved in ebony.
Her eyes clouded. And she did not
even know- where he was going—he had
not told her so much. Why had this
sudden cloud of mystery enveloped every
thing? Even Edith was touched by it.
She was avoiding her; she had not given
her the opportunity of a word alone with
her yet, and ever since dinner she had
closeted with Sir George in the library.
Was anything wrong? She shivered.
Trouble must not touch Edith —she had
suffered too much already.
Terrible News. 1
"Betty!”
At the sound of her name the girl
turned. Mrs. Barrington had come Into
the room so quietly as to be unheard.
As she came forward Betty was at her
side with a startled cry.
"Edith! Has anything happened?
You’ve been crying!”
Even in the twilight of the room
Betty could see that her sister’s face
was drawn and grey, that lines had
revealed themselves about the tremu
lous mouth that made her look almost
old.
—something has happened. Betty,”
Mrs. Barrington said, narshly. “I didn’t
want to tell you; you seemed so happy.
1 hoped I could find away out, but there
Is no way out.”
“Oh, Edith! What Is It?”
“This—EdmOnd Levasseur Is In Parle.*
"Edith!” Betty stood aghast.
“But —he's dead. He died five years
ago. Don't you remember. Idarllng? The
loss of the Ajax, and how you pointed
his name out to me on the list of the
dead?”
Mrs. Barington released her hands with
a wrench.
"Oh. don’t speak to me as though you
thought I were mad. or a child!” she
cried, irritably. '"The only mad thing
is ever to have thought he was dead.
Such things don’t happen. He left the
boat at the first port. I don’t suppose
he ever meant to go to Mexico. He’s
been alive and silent and waiting ail
these years!”
(Continued Tomorrow.)