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The Georgian’s Magazine Page “The Gates of Silence” By Meta Stmmins, Author of “Hushed Up ” TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. “Tour wife. Tony? Well, that's gpod!” The exclamatian was redolent of irony, in spite of the effort with which it was de livered Barrington s hands clenched at the words, as though to keep themselves from doing further damage to this vic tim of his violence “What do you know of my wife?” "More than you do. perhaps.” The words came at long intervals, punctuated with distressing, agonizing gasps. "I ought to. considering Levasseur's eyes closed The wool was becoming very dark Flven malice seemed hardly able to sustain his strength, and the victim of his revenge began to re cede far, far a war "Considering "—That 1 knew her first'” The heave lids opened and the glazing eyes looked eagerly up at the man bend ing over him "She was my wife?" "Your wife? Barrington cried, hoarse ly. "Yes. or thought she was.” came the labored answer For a moment Anthony Barrington stared at the dving man in speechless horror This revelation was so infinitely more terrible than anything his worst suspicions had ever leaped to He turned ■ on the man with a bitter laugh "You lie!” he cried ‘ You infernal scoundrel, you He"' In his madness and pain, it is hard to say what he might have done at that moment had not some of the servants, roused by that frenzied beating on the gong, come hurrying acmes the hall With a sudden miraculous effort., Ed mond Levasseur raised himself on his el bow "Edith!" he gasped, hideously Ed—" And dropped hack deed The spirit had been willing, but th® flesh too weak to carry out his vengeance to the full Only one person tn that group under stood, and that was Edith Barrington’s husband. The Truth at Last. The Inspector looked at Barrington coolly "It's a strange ending to a strange story, str.” he said. "If it is the ending But one never knows "One never knows. ' repeated Barring ton. mechanically. Although throughout this Interview with the detective-inspector In charge of the Fltsstephen case -who had been sum moned hurriedly at his own desire--he had acted like the cool, level-headed man of affairs he was. Barrington's thoughts had been far away from the library, had been all the time upstairs with the white faced, terrified, guilty woman who, heaven help him. was his wife "It’s an extraordinary thing why he should have com® here of aJI places In London,” continued the officer ''Extract dinary' But then, the whole case is ex traordinary " His shrewd eyes rested for a moment on the artist's face. It certainly was more than extraordinary that this escaped criminal, who had evaded the vigilance of the London police for so many days, should have been run to earth In this house of all houses, the detective was not ignorant of the relationship existing be tween Mrs Barringtons sister and the man at present under arrest for the mur • der of the money lender in Tempest street "When a man's hunted he hasn't got the instinct of the lower animals, he does idiotic things.” he said "Yes.” repeated Barrington "There's not much more to be done to night. or rather, this morning, sir I don't think I'd better keep you any longer " The inspector paused, as if expecting comment, then, hearing none, moved to ward the door Barrington, with the in stinct of ingrained courtesy, moved with him toward it, holding it open for him to pass out, returning the man's "Good morning" with a similar greeting Terrible Thoughts. The door closed behind the police of ficer and Barrington was alone He went acroes the room and sat down by his writ ing table, resting his head on his hand, trying to think, and the thought that filled his mind was --not the fact that he had killed a man, not so much as a fleet ing thought to any danger he might run through his committal of an act of mad justice, but one thought only that Edith,, his wife, was a dishonored woman! A cheat! A creature whose every action for the years as hie wife had been a He. The thought racked him with a fierce pain He groaned at the degradation of it. In his ears rang an echo of the dy Ing man's death rattle, before his eyes danced a vision of his terrible mocking smile, and the vision seemed so awful that only death could blot out the remembrance of ft He got up Inaction was not possible He felt that he could never be still again while he lived—that only one thing re mained for htm death, after he had choked life from the lying woman up stairs Death! He came to a sudden pause at the thought of his child, a m IL*J■ IM It F ' *** ir "■ ’-"* ''■'" ‘ ••’fr W. - "w® '■• w r W'” - tf(KCr?vsk ’ ‘ ~ 'K’ •■•**•'■ »2 ■ ’ '■*' i / •’.' •***> .*'• m. ■ *• f •*< .• ‘ »'. '. .', ■ • •'’•'♦♦• * - "'- ; ;■ • .«•. vX '• •'■ •‘•’’ci • - •<> • “ .-• • Get the Original - Genuine wXw*Z“c«*o» Pure fall-cream milk and the ex- | B tract of selected malted grain, i reduced to powder form. Delicious, Invigorating 1 Nourishing | Best Food-drink for all ages. _ ( IfiZISI) 1 MF Suptyior to too, coffoo. oocoa. = Ak \ ; v Ask for Horllck's at all Fountains. = J quick lunch digested by the weakest E luJ/^^S.jNVAIA 0 j stomach; prepared in a moment by E VaSAHri [RAVEIEg*/ briskly stirring the powder in hot or cold = water. Keep at home or when traveling. = > Ask ,l,r horlick’s | Aalth) Others Are imitations ? ■ lUllllllUlllDlilUlUUUlilllillllllUilUUUlUUlllllUiUUjß thought so insupportable that a dew- of pain started out upon his brow His child! What future lay before it? A flood 1 of other thoughts so black and terrible that be hardly formulated them even to ' himself swept over him With a bitter cry he rushed from the room. A Physical Fear. Outside the door, however, he paused To reach the place where his wife was be must pass the room where the thing ' that had once been a man lay. Actual physical fear laid its cold hand on him. With an effort like that of a child com ' polled to pass through an empty room , be made a dash for the stairs and reached him wife's apartment The sitting room door stood ajar; the bed room door was locked He knocked loudly upon it. There was an instant's hesitation, the 1 faintest whisper of voices, and it was opened to him by the housekeeper, her face wet with tears T don't think you should come in, sir,” she said "Mrs Barrington is not well ” ’ j Barrington looked at her with wild eyes. i Was she in the plot to hoodwink him too? "I can not help that," he said, roughly. The woman fell back a little, cowed by his manner, for, in spite of his popularity in his household, Anthony Barrington was a mau who was feared by his servants. "The doctor said my lady was not to be excited,” she continued, with a certain , doggedness Ami likely tn excite Mrs Barrington''” Anthony demanded, angrily. "Go down stairs. 1 wish to speak privately—to your mistress." The woman went with some unwilling ness, and Barrington entered the bedroom and locked the door. He said nothing, but stood there with his hack against the door which he had locked, and looked across the room at the woman w'ho, at the first sound of his voice, had sprung up from the couch where she had flung herself tine look at her Husband's face .ter that the end had come, that the blow bad fallen at last as she had always known It must, and with the knowledge all the nervous trembling, the agonizing suspense and tension, relaxed She faced him like a woman of stone; she would not fight, deny, or He. she placed herself in the hands of Fate and wafted FACE TO FACE. St.lll Barrington did not speak, but looked at her grimly The feeling crept In upon her that her very bfe depended on her returning that look "What have you to say for yourself?" he asked at last "Why should not I kill you as you stand there—send you to Join your lover?” His voice broke the spell which bound her "Tony, what do you mean'’ Don't stand staring at me with those hard eyes, or I shall go mad! Am I so little to you that sou should condemn me, unheard?” "You have been so much to toe in the past,” he cried, "that ft is only the thought of my son that keeps me power less- he is my son?” "Tony!" Edith Barrington made a few unsteady steps toward him. then fell back, quelled by the contempt, the ha tred in his face For one supreme in stant physical fear dominated her men tal anguish, and she dreaded that she was alone with a madman Then she told herself that on her calmness de pended her safety, and forced herself to look at him steadfastly "You have no right to ask me such a question,” she said with quiet dignity. "No right" " The man laughed, such a hideous travesty of mirth that it chilled her blood "<>h. I deserve all the blame and scorn you can cast upon me. ' she cried, "for I have been a coward, but not a bad wom an, Tony not in intention--faithful to you and loving ah, heaven knows how loving’"' "Bad!” he ejaculated, with a sneer "What do you call a woman who per jures herself at the altar, whose every down-sitting and uprising for years was a lie"” "Tony, at any rate, whatever has hap pened. you can nol forget that 1 am your wife ton can not repudiate me. For lit tle Phil's sake” ”1 am not so sure of that.” Barrington said "not so sure first that you are my wife Who were you what were you when you married me?” He looked at her keenly, more natural ly. as It seemed, and with a little cry Edith stretched out her hands to him "I believed that I was a widow when 1 married you." she said . "A widow "' Again he laughed, harsh ly and unmusically, and there was such brutal meaning in the repeated words that Edith, meeting his eyes, felt hot shame tingle swiftly from head to foot. Yes, Edmond Levasseur's widow " Her utterance of the name of the dead man seemed to her inexplicably —to add fuel to the fire of her husband's anger. She did not know that in It Harrington Imagined he found a confirmation of all his doubt of her Edmond's Levasseur! That was what lie said to himself, with bitterness If this story she was telling were true this story that she poured out with a quick flood of impassioned words, finding in her anguish and her fear ati unexpected eloquence she must have known the falseless of 'his assumed name, hat e known the real identity of th» man who called himself by It, as he knew it Continued Tomorrow. THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN AND NEWS. FRIDAY, .TTLY 12. 1912. I -Z2Z . The Philosophy of Shoes ::: By Garrett P. Serviss It Is More Important to Have Your Feet Properly Clothed Than Your Head • (These pictures are reproduced by permission, from "Good Housekeeping Magazine” for July.) DR. WOODS HUTCHINSON de scribes man. in Good House keeping .Magazine for July, as "the tenderfoot of the animal king dom,” and then he goes on to give what nobody seems to have thought it worth while to give before—some good scientific advice on the subject of shoes. What he says is amusing as well as instructive. Dr. Hutchinson makes another state ment which will probably surprise most people, although It Is evidently true, viz, that men. and women, too, have the biggest feet on earth in proportion to the size and weight of the animal they ca rry. The fact is that man. as a product of evolution, has not yet had time to develop his pedal , r®rnfti®s into the ? | /I w'' jT ; ** ; TW - // '' A •»> •* I T ' '*• * // ; ; / / / ■**. f ■ ‘ ” I / ' * 11 / (ya/ 1 y^=== — v— — Z, * r X : • ■ ' z \ Hr' •* Is it any -vonctar fh a l mir ccmmcnest dr eani j s that of bounding tn 50-foot curves through rhe air like a giant kangaroo? best possible form to serve the new uses to which he now puts them. Since he quit climbing trees and sporting among the branches in the tropical for ests of Tertiary times, and began to stand upon his hind paws, he has been more concerned with the growth <jf his brain than with the development of his feet. Nature would, no doubt, have helped him more rapidly if he had not defeated nearly all her efforts by incas ing his feet in hard, unyielding boxes, which, its civilization has proceeded, have become more and mor® Hdiculoust In their ugliness-and their unsuitabili ty to the proper use of feet. The Nice Adjustments. The anatomist sees, with admiration, the nice adjustments which nature has made in transforming the hind limbs of arboreal (tree-climbing) creatures of the arte and monkey type into the legs and feet of the upright animal called man. and. at the same time, he views «it It disgust the manner in which man has spoiled some of nature's neatest ef fects. The naked, uncontined and un tormented human foot is a marvel not only of fitness for its purpose, but of beauty of form. It is even a finer piece of natural machinery than the hand. ~ ■■—•'" 1 ...., - • ' i: JklA ipl O JrWL : L j, Jj |: ' Such fashionable monstrosities as toothirck toes and French heels, also the crimes committed in the name of reform i such as square toes and straight inner edaev About the last thing that a shoemeke- would dream of doing is to really look at the foot that he is to shoe. / X\ / a- J and ordinarily it has harder work to do. But while the hand has been left free to use and develop all its latent possibili ties. the foot has been cramped and hampered, until, in civilized man. it has become a thing which he is glad to conceal He goes stumping aloftg with it. without employing one-tenth part of its real powers The toes are jammed together, the natural points of support are more or less disregarded, and the entire wonderful mechanism is thrown out of gear. < >f course, even savages have to pro tect the bottom of the foot, but their manner of doing so is. fundamentally, better than ours, for they do not rob the member of more than half its use fulness No spurred and booted Euro pean could ever match the grace and dignity of locomotion exhibited by an American Indian striding along In his easy-fitting moccasins. The sandals of tlie Greeks and Romans gave at least some opportunity for the feet to per form their natural functions. In cold climates we have to cover the feet, ami leather is. no doubt, all things consid ered. the very best material that has yet been found for footgear; but thr trouble is that our ways of using it are open to a vast number of objections. Man. in more senses than one, is the tenderfoot of the animal kingdom, , The cobbler of genius has yet to ap- ' pear. Thomas Carlyle forgot the shoes : when he speculated on the philosophy ' of clothes. Fashion is responsible for more , harm-doing in the matter of footgear , than in any other of the numberless vaga'ies with which she delights to worry her submissive slaves Nowhere ! has fashion been so cruel and so de- t fiant of nature's laws as in her deal- l Ings with the feet. Look at the name- , less suffering that she has for cen- : turies inflicted upon hundreds of mil- < lions of women in China. But she is. ' in this respect, almost equally cruel in ' whaX we call more civilized lands. If all the groans and cries of pain that < are daily wrung from men. women and t children in Europe and America by the • excruciating ills that result from the wearing of tight or wrongly formed or , stupidly fitted shoes could be collected , and poured forth from one huge m£ga- , phone the united sound of woe would , not be pleasant to listen to. ( When fashion prescribes absurd headgear we may lament the violence done to our aesthetic sensibilities, but there is. usually, no physical injury caused by inartistic hats. The case is ' different with misshapen shoes. Huge. ' sqtaare-toed shoes that look like river scows, arrow-pointed shoes that re- ‘ semble in outline the bow of a college • racing boat, turnip-toed shoes that ape ’ the nose of a triceratops, and shoes ' with peg heels and precipitous fronts • that make women sway like ballet * dancers or totter like, inexperienced t: stilt-walkers, are a source of positive « injury as well as of discomfort to the - wearers. , Some Expert Advice. » The remedy would seem to be. when the shop contains nothing hut ready- * made absurdiities, to have all shoes ' made to order—but that is costly, and. * besides, how many would know enough ' to prescribe the shape that a shoe 5 should have? x You will find some expert advice * about this in Dr. Hutchinson's article. ' and you would do well to pay special - heed when he says. For heaven's sake. , < have 'em big enough!” |e | Stylish, But Comfortable | -J! Queen Quality Shoes Embody the S Acme of Style Without Destroy® | ”5 ing Ease and Comfort. S? I V - •J ' S! A shoemaker threw off the smother ing influence of routine and precedent J and founded a colossal factory the largest in tire world devoted to the man- <Z ufacture of Women's Shoes. To this wE factory comes the hides and skins of Kids. 5 ' Goats. Horses. Colts and Calves. Presto! They are transformed into Queen Quality Shoes for \\ omen at the enormous rate 3S of 15,000 pairs a day. The modern shoemaker has a double task—to secure grace, beauty and rhythm •!' -fg outwardly and at the same time conserve * physical comfort and anatomical proper tion inwardly. <2 Nothing is absolutely perfect, for the millennium is yet to come, but when you Z g speak of the style, the fit and the feel of S shoes Queen Quality is without a peer. No matter how much vou mav be willins Zb to pay for shoes you ran not buy any that -ZJ? surpass them in those three details. «Z _.g The summer's heat calls for white— WZ Z9S white shoes especially, in canvas and buckskin, for they are so easy and cool Jh -_<g on the feet. We are especially prepared <2 to supply instantly the correct size in the n? wanted style, be it Pump. Colonia! or Oxford. Correct fit guaranteed. 2‘ I X i ■ ■ 2- :* «■ g _____ = ! j J M. Rich & Bros. Co. “A Department of Famous Shoes.” J- We Close at One o’Clock Tomorrow Sz I Special Fo r Saturday: jl 432 Pairs White Canvas Pumps. Welt Sole, t Leather Heels S: IE White Canvas Pumps X I (X sl’s i 1 I I 1 uK' I g $3.50 « Values J g J <2 An unusual attraction is required to sell as much in a half-dav as would ordinarilv be sold in a whole day The shoes we are offering are unusuallv stvlish and durable, and at this special price the saving is unusuall' " large, so we feel sure wc will not lose any sales on ae- Jj count of closing a half-day. li * No mail orders filled at this price. s M. Rich & Bros. Co. | -E “A Department of Famous Shoes ’