Newspaper Page Text
THE GEO IS GUAM'S MAGAZINE'PAGE
What Is a Sign of
Love?
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX
WHAT do you think Is a sign that
love has come'’ You have an
opinion, and. without a shadow
of doubt, it is based on experience
Looking back to that experience, would
you say the writer of this letter is in
love’
"1 am a youth, and considered good
looking by the fair sex I think I am
in Jove with a girl, but she seems to be
indifferent to me. 1 think of her day
and night. Is that a sign that I love
her?”
I say it is To dream of a girl all
night, and think of her ali dav is con
clusive proof of love. Os no one in
the world does a man think so con
stantly except of the girl he loves.
There are also other signs, many o<
them more convincing He sees nr
fault in the girl He Is never with het
so long at a time that he has had a
surfeit of her society.
The hours fly when with her, and
drag when away. The only happiness
he knows when they are apart is count
ing the time when he will be with
her again.
He has no hopes that are not cen
tered around her. He can imagine no
joy that is independent of her texlst
ence, and. if trouble comes to hlrn, his
first thought is of the effect ft may
have on her
He wants to shield her He longs
for the right to protect her from every
adverse wind that blows He regards
money as only a means for making life
pleasant for her; he counts all his
friends of no value unless they are
also friendly to her.
He Hat All the Symptoms.
The signs of love are legion, but this
young man has the one that is unmis
takable In the constant thinking of
her will originate every dream for her.
every hope for her, every ambition.
He continues: "She is very popular
among the boys. and she treats them
all as she treats me A friend of mine
saw her once, and now he is apparently
smitten with her Would you consider
that a cause of breaking off my friend
ship with him. or would you step aside
and let him have her?"
Ah. here is a sign that doesn't point
to genuine love. No real lover enter
tains the thought of "letting" some
other man have the girl he loves.
If the most peacable man in the
worlds every drop of blood in his veins
becomes fighting blood at such a pros
pect. "Let” him have her! Not if con
stant devotion, if patience, If a fight
for every inch of ground with every
weapon love calls its own can win
her!
The man who steps meekly tside in
such a contest is one of love's molly
coddles. He has water in his veins,
and lukewarm water at that.
He will never win anything he wants
in life, for the reason that there is
always some other man w ho wants the
same thing
He will find there are others who
want what he wants in every walk in
life If be will meekly give up a light
for the girl he loves, he will more
meekly surrender the round of the lad
der he has reached because some other
man wants it.
He will get nowhere. Indeed, I doubt
if he will ever start, for even at the
starting pttint there are always others
who want to have their turn with thelt
toes on the line.
A Spineless Love.
He loves this girl. (K this there is
no doubt. But it is a weak, spineless
sort of affection, the kind that clings
without giving support, the kind that
drags and pulls down.
If he goes to her and says, as he has
said to me in effect: "I love you. 1
think of you by day and by night An.
other man loves you. Shall I step aside
and let him have you""
If he says that, and she has the
sense she needs for her own protec
tion. she Will tell him it Is not In his
power to "let" any man have her. That
is within no one's power but her own
But 'if he feels that way about it.
she will add. with acorn, he need neve:
attempt to see her again.
Then she will regard him as a closed
incident: a book that has bem read
and that left a disagreeable impres
sion.
Indisputable!
Lady—Are you sure this is Ceylon
tea ?
Assistant—Yes. madam Mr. < 'ev
en's name is on every packet
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n l oo Much of a Good Thing 11 * qw ■2'"’"'" . * By Nell Brinkley
SWgKfe
v zxaKm® A* AT At- C &
TOO MANY BANANAS
a little girl, and I het yon know many a little girl like this, who, wher
ever yon see her on a landscape, is pin m surrounded by Billys, in various stages
of love and jealousy, spooning and scrapping, glaring at one another, and the
girl, and once in a while there's one of them picks up his coat and his doll rags,
and goes over the hills and far away and out of the game. And once or twice the
“THE GATES OF SILENCE" * « By SA?i^ INS
Already Condemned,
Already tried and condemned, this man
of whom Fate had made so terrible a
catspaw! Before Rlmingtnn’s eyes there
rose a contrasting picture a picture seen
from the threshold of a room framed by
a doorway, the picture of a white-faced
girl holding a knife, and at her fret the
huddled body of a man, while behind her
on the table heaped jewels winked with
multi-colored fire in the lamplight.
This man he ha<l seen led out of court,
this man already condemned b\ public
opinion, was innocent; he (.lark Riming
ton) knew that beyond any shadow of
doubt The man was Innocent, and only
ho knew, and only he could proclaim his
inno<-en<'e
The beads of cf>ld sweat stood out on
Rlmlngton’s brow, for ail the sultry heat
of the August day
Mr. Levasseur's Ambassador.
There was a room In the Croft, a long,
low room, with a French window that
gave oil to a delicious bit of garden a
trifle neglected, perhaps, for Sir George’s
tastes ran to the formal, and this nook of
overhanging trees with grasj; plats lacing
the Irregular flower beds was far from
that, but only sufficiently neglected to
enhance its charm that had been the
school room in the days when the Miss
Lumsdens shared a governess Before
her marriage it had been Edith’s special
sanctum, and because of this, on her
visits home, it was still assigned to her
especial use.
Bera she had passed man.'. many hap
py hours in the days of her girlhood, and
the old w’alls seemed tn hold a thousand
memories for her. Why can the happi
ness of girlhood not stay with us for
ever?
During the last few days had been
grateful for this place of sanctuary; and
for the unspoken agreement between her
husband and herself that respected a de
sire for solitude when evinced by a with
draw al to such a special "den. ’ She
simply refused to allow herself to think
•f Vnfhony’s boredom; It was better that
he should be bored than disillusioned b\
any display of temper, and she had not
found herself capable of the self-control
necessary for spending long hours in his
< ompany during this time of mental
stress Her nerves were out of order.
She pleaded headache, and Betty s ill
ness was enough excuse for her deadly
fit of the blurs "
But It was a state of affairs that could
not last long, she realized that Barring
ton was not the man to endure the dis
comforts of a protracted residence at an
inn so primitive as the Weybourne Arms,
where he bad insisted on remaining,
'ory oj Love, Mystery and Hate, with a Thrilling Portrayal of Life Behind Prison Bars
though Sir George had urged him to come
to the Croft. Only that morning he had
been pleading with her to cut .her visit
short and return with him. for what was
left <f the summer, to their villa at Au-
H"'.il, and to bring Betty with her, that
the girl might he placed under the care
of one of the great mental specialists.
Tragedy In the Air.
"You know Hardinge is one 'of the dear
est old chaps going, but a bit' of a fossil,
and. in my opinion, there's not a man in
London can touch the Frenchmen where
diseases of the brain and nerves are con
cerned. You must leave this place. The
atmosphere of the house is deadly, Edith,"
he said.
"There's tragedy In the air of it. You
may talk of shock if you will, hut It's
nn belief that Betty's illness is not the
result of any great sudden shock, hut
merely the culmination of the dally blud
geoning of sensitive nerves that existence
with your father means. You'll be break
Ing down next. Be sensible, my dear girl,
make arrangements for getting away, for
if you won't I'll take you by force "
No; ver> clearly it was not possible for
her to hope for any long continuance of
Anthony's patience.
She stood up. shedding the newspapers
that had lain upon her lap about her.
those newspapers, in which she had been
reading a description of the result of the
inquest rwMr Eitzstephen, and went over
to the window Although consciously she
saw nothing of what her eyes rested on.
insensibly the cool grays and greens of
the garden spaces soothed her nerves
The day itself was a day of balm after
the long weeks of brazen glory-a day
of gray stillness with a soft, low sky
massed by fleecy clouds
Betty's Plight.
Anthony was in London. Sir George
was shut up in his own apartments I'p
stalrs in the blue and white bed room,
under the picture of the Vitlful Shepherd.
Betty was sleeping She selpt a great
deal, as though In things physical as well
as mental she were reverting to the Con
dition of a child. Edith Barrington’s
eves tilled with a •tinging rush of tears,
the thought of ,Betti was unendurable
It was like living with the corpse of
some one you had loved and murdered
That was what she felt that it was by
her action this misfortune that seemed
so much worse than death had come
upon the girl who was so dear tn her
Eor days past Mrs. Barrington's brain
had seemed numb, a dark, fear-bound
place, across which fugitive thoughts
flashed with a grim suggestion Thoughts
of the slip of paper that had dropped
from Betty's ym onsclous clasp; of those
Strang.- faltered words. "There's blood on
mi hands'” of that hush nionei that
had come to her so mysteriously on the
morning following Betty's return. Sug
gestions coupling her sister with the sin
ister happenings in that houSe where Ed
moud laivasseur had been caught, a mur
derer. "red-handed. " but .now this after
noon the power for collected thought re
turned In some part to her
Standing there by the window she tried
to focus facts to make plans
It was almost impossible to do that
The element of uncertainty was too great.
Blocking the way was alwa.vs that aw
ful posslblllt' that l.avasseur. e'en now,
when he had nothing to gain by speech,
might, for al! that. Impelled by a Samson
like desire to involve others In his ruin
make all the tFaglc story public And
money. not even that money that lay
locked away in her Jewel case, even if
she dare use it, could silence him If he
wisl-et} to speak
Was he guiitt " She strove to sift the
evidence she had read so carefully In the
many papers that lay scattered about
her. ami alwa'S the dominant impression
In her mind was one in Lavaeseur s favor
He was not th.c man to do murder from
motives of then.
And if he were not guilty!
With a little cry she put up her hands
to her face, the thought was tor» horri
ble. The man had t'-eated her shameful
ly. yet she had loved him on»-e -or thought
she did
If he were not guilty. If behind that
veil that had fallen on Betty’s senses the
girl had some grim knowledge that might
save a man from the gallows! She
pressed her hands tightly against her
eyes, as though to shut out these thoughts
that had, the vividness of things seen.
A knotfk at the door that she did hot
hear, ant? a servant came in 'With a salver
in her hand on which lay a visiting card
The entrance of the girl roused Mrs.
Barrington; she turned sharply, and be
fore the maid could speak had made a
gesture of refusal to so much as look at
the card.
A Strange Caller.
"I can see no one. Vane. You ought
to have known that. I told you I did not
wish to be disturbed.”
It was so unusual for her to speak in
such a manner that the girl's surprise
showed in her face.
"I am sorry, madame; but the gentle
man was very urgent. He said he wished
to see you on a matter of great impor
tant business, and that you would not
refuse If you saw hjs card.”
Edith's heart stood still with a curious
premonition of evil. She took the card
with shaking fingers The name con
veyed nothing to her—James Bradford—
and in the corner. Messrs. Bradford &•
Speirs, Solicitors. Lincolns Inn Fields.
James Bradford! Instantly her mind
coupled the name with the clerkly writ
ing that had be*n on the envelope which
inclosed the hush money of two thou
sand pounds. She twisted the cArd nerv
ously in her fingers; as she did so a single
word, penciled faintly on the back, caught
her attention —"Queenle.”
"Queenle!" That was the name that,
in those far-off. unhappy days, the man
now lying in prison had been fond of
calling her with teasing attention.
Queenle! What did it mean? Her hand
closed on the fragment of cardboard con
vulsively. ”1 will see the gentleman
here.” she said, and there was some
thing in her voice and look that quickened
the surprise in the parlor maid's heart.
There was no trace of agitation in Mrs
Barrington's bearing when presently
Janies Bradford was shown into the sit
ting room. She looked at him with un
compromising directness, and invited him
to state h*s business, which he was in
no way re'ictant to do.
"I have called on behalf of our client,
Edmond Levasseur,” he said, with brisk
directness.
"Edmond Levasseur!”
The interrogative surprise in Mrs. Bar
rington's voice was admirable Mr James
Bradford, look'ing at her with a certain
admiration In his eyes, which were small
and keen and rimmed faintly with red,
like a ferret s, conceded so much in his
mind He hardly knew what manner of
woman he had expected to see when he
set forth on this errand: certainly not one
tn tile least like this who confronted him
now. tall and white and slim, with a sug
gestion "f scorn in her bearing, of which
W A ISE the cover from a fgV\ 1
Ol steaming dish of FAUST ! NLW \
W SPAGHETTI and watch the B
||L smile run 'round the table. To I i
keep the family smiling, repeat li
f °f ten - V 'A MNk
In 5c uni 10tt »onhagt>» Ul II K.
1 at your grocar’a. Il > | Ehu
MAULL BROS. St. Lonls, Me. V I
IU
( ~—- ———■ —?£SS&OLJ' i
TOO MANY BEAUX.
chap that went over the hills and far away was the one of all others that the
girl I know wanted to have stay. But she was trying to handle too big a thing
—trying to make sugar pie. And you know what a mess you'd get there. Try
ing to eat all the bananas there are just because she loves ’em! And I know what
woe there is in that. For I did it once.
he quite rightly judged her to be uncon
scious.
"Ah, the name is doubtless very famil
iar to you, madam,” he said, in his smooth
voice. "It is regrettably before the pub
lic at present As you are no doubt
aware, oiir client has been arrested on a
very grave charge. He has instructed Us
to brief counsel on his behalf ”
“Yes?”' Edith queried, faintly. She had
not yet asked the man to sit down—not
out of any rudeness, but out of sheer
forgetfulness. She herself. however,
sank Into a chair, and felt*a swift relief
thrill her; her limbs had been trembling
horribly, like those of a woman about to
fall. What did these smooth words her
ald? What infamy did the man in prison
meditate? "I have certainly read of Mr
Levasseur's case in the paper,” she said.
’"I fail, however, to see—”
The Inquisitor.
“How it concerns you?”
Mr Bradford's tone was exceedingly
pleasant, a little too conversational, per
haps. for the part for which he was
dressed so well. Ha even permitted him
self to smile faintly, and it was a smile
that jarred with his professional appear
ance. his scrupulous collar and black tie.
his decent suit of black, and the well
brushed but far from new silk hat that
reposed on the table by his side.
Mrs. Barrington, looking at him with
fascinated eyes, felt inspired by an al
most nauseating sensation of fear and
disgust This man—how much did
he know? Was It the extent of his knowl
edge that caused him to smile so hate
fully? She had a horrible vision of Levas
seur. dead yet still speaking. having
handed on the flaming torch of blackmail
to Mr. James Bradford, of Lincoln's inn.
*'Ae a matter of fact, speaking In con
fidence —and you know that a solicitor Is
sort of a legal father confessor —we know
that Mr. Levasseur’s case affects you
very intimately,” the man continued.
“Mr. Levasseur has Instructed us to ap
ply to you for the funds necessary—the
somewhat ample funds necessary—for the
proper conduct of his defense."
“To me?” Mrs. Barrington gasped.
For the moment she was startled out
of all semblance of composure by this de
mand that seemed so preposterous, so
impossible to fulfill. The funds necessary
for the defense in a big criminal trial!
He might as well have asked her for
the sun out of heaven. For a moment
she utterly forgot those notes lying In her
locked jewel case upstairs. She only
thought of herself, of what in truth she
■was. seeing that terror prevented her
from so much as using one of those notes,
the pampered, penniless wife of a wealthy
but jealous man
"To you. madam.” returned Mr Brad
ford. with a bow
The Trap.
"But this is preposterous." she said,
in an agitated voice. “He must be mad.”
Her voice trailed off Indistinctly; her
slim fingers twisted and untwisted »h»
delicate fabric of her handkerchief unmer-
cifally.
Mr Bradford said nothing for a mo
ment. but he fixed his small, bright eves
upon her. and the effect of his glance was
singularly disconcerting
To Be Continued Tomorrow
/j >
JWfo" is
ANTY
L//* drudge \
Anty Drudge and the Youngwifes.
Mr. Youngwife.— “Does Skoodums want to dink out of
Dada's coffee tup?”
Mrs. Youngwife —“Oh, Lovey, he’s spilled that coffee
on himself. That’s the twenty-eighth little frock
he's just ruined. Those stains don’t come out.”
Anty Drudge— “Oh, yes, they will, Mrs. Youngwife.
Just you use Fels-Naptha in cool or lukewarm
water, and you’ll have no trouble in keeping little
Napoleon's frocks clean and white.”
A friend that will save you three
fourths the work and all the drudgery of
washing is a friend indeed.
Fels-Naptha is that friend.
Bring it into your laundry and kit
chen, give it a chance to do the work
you've been pounding out by main
strength, and Fels-Naptha will be your
close friend not for a month or a year,
but for life.
Fels-Naptha saves you not only work
and time, both summer and winter, but
makes your clothes sweeter and cleaner,
preserves them, makes them wear longer.
It saves you the coal or gas necessary
to heat water and boil the clothes, as
Fels-Naptha does its cleansing in cool or
lukewarm water.
All that’s necessary on your part is to
follow the easy directions printed on the
red and green wrapper.
Advice to the
Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
DID YOU ASK A QUESTION?
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am a young man 21 years of age.
and while at a dance I fell in love with
a girl of nineteen, and every .time we
go to a’danee she seems to take a fancy
to every’ fellow she meets. I told her I
loved her, and she gave me no answer.
P. F.
When you told her you loved her, was
that all? Didn't you ask her to be your
wife? The statement that you love her
doesn't demand an answer.
I have a notion she shows interest in
other men just to tease you.
YOU OWE HIM AN APOLOGY.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am a girl of 17 and deeply in love
w ith a boy who is two years my senior.
Now. I heard that he has broken friend
ship with me because I gave away
something he gave to me H. S. S.
The men. my dear, demand apprecia.
tion, and are hurt and resentful when
they fail to get it.
Os course he got cross when he
learned you gave his gifts away. MaJce
him an apology, but don't cringe before
his wrath or make your apology too
humble. You were thoughtless, but you
have committed no crime.
HE EVIDENTLY CARES A LITTLE.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am a young lady 20 years of age.
and in love with a young man two
years my senior. This gentleman calls
on me twice a week, and has been
coming to the house for the past six
months. Sometime? he acts as though
he did not care for me, and other times
as if he does. B. R.
Unless he cared some for you he
would not have called twice a week for
six months. Don't make the mistake
of demanding that a sweetheart be al
ways on his knees He has other in
terests in life, remember, and I am sure
love will thrive stronger and last long
er if not on constant parade. Be sen
sible. my dear, and keep your love tor
him in control.
ONLY ONE WAY.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am deeply in love with a girl of
about the same age as myself. I have
not spoken to her about my love, al
though 1 believe she knows I love her.
I do not think she cares much for me,
because when I ask her to go to differ
ent places with me. she does not seem
to care much about going. Could you
please tell me how I could find out if
she loves me? F. R. J.
There is only one way: Ask her!
And remember, the love that is dis
closed without asking, and won with
out wooing, isn't worth much.