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THE GE MAGAZINE PAGE
“The Gates of Silence”
Ry Meta Simmins, Author of "Hushed Up"
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
"Well, isn't she worth even the descent
Into hades?"
Betty gazed at the face of the woman
who looked out from the canvas at her.
The first glance was a revelation of beau
ty that almost took her breath away, the
second a revolt against the insult it of
fered to all her tenderest susceptibilities
—a sense of horror which, as it seemed,
would never leave her.
And yet the subject and the treatment
in all save one particular were absolutely
conventional It represented the woman
bearing her box of spikenard exceeding
precious; the glorious hair of tradition
‘reamed over her white, bare shoulders,
ano from the elßudy background shone
out the spear of light, symbol of the Holy
Spirit. Once again the painter’s wife had
served as his model—Barrington, who had
never painted Edith, who had never suf
fered others to paint her.
Only in one instance the departure
from conventional treatment, yet it made
of the picture a mockery, a blasphemy
•end a horror. The eyes of the Magdalen
-ere not ear-flited, <-a-». up in penitence
to heaven; they looked out from the can
vas. filled with evil laughter, the malig
nant laughter of the woman who has
tasted of all things, who has seen all
things, and, behold, they were very evil.
Not Finished.
"Oh!" The girl gave a little cry and
flung up her hands to her face to shut
out the sight of it.
"You like it?" Barrington's voice came
to her as from a great distance, penetrat
ing into this world of horror whqje her
senses sickened and reeled. "You like it?
No. I don't expect you do. It is too true.
It conveys too notable a lesson. But it
is not finished yet: the foreshortening is
wrong here. Oh. for three weeks more
of sight—three weeks" —
"Tony!" Betty bad found her voice
again: the world was settling about her,
the spasm of spiritual nausea passed.
She was dealing, not with the Anthony
Barrington she had known, but with a
man outside reason—a man who. because
he believed himself to be wronged, was
full of the waspish instinct to sting* and
slay, even if it meant his own life and
the light of life to do so. "Tony, you
must destroy this thing. You must. You
don't know what you have done. Even
if she was what you Imagined her to be
—and she was not that—it was scanda
lous, brutal, unmanly. I haven't words
for it —for you. Tony, dear, it isn't
thinkable!"
Barrington replaced the covering over
the picture and turned, looking down at
Betty’s flushed, upturned face. He stood
between her and the easel, as though he
almost dreaded an attack on it and what
it held.
"Little tool!" he said. "So you believe
in her yet? Though it was she who sent
your lover to the scaffold and the other
fool to his judgment? Though she has
turned my blood to gall and robbed me
of my child and of. faith in everything
even in myself—”
"Tony, you wrong her! She sinned in
one thing only—her love for you. It was
her one fault —her fear of losing you. I
know what you hint at, but it isn’t true.
Whatever her will was, she failed in ac
complishment. He—he was arrested be
fore her poor letter reached the police.
That was for you too, Tony!"
Barrington raised his head and laughed
—terrible sounding laughter. As Betty
looked at him she was reminded sudden
ly of Samson in the house of the Phil
istines: Samson degraded, mutilated, yet
Samson still.
"Betty, she is your sister, but I can't
help it. She was bad false to the core.
J—l am glad the child died. If I dared,
I'd thank God for that!”
His voice ceased suddenly. He made
a curious gesture with his outflung
hands.
"What's that?” he said, and stood in
the attitude of one who listens. “Oh,
heaven! Betty, it’s come! The darkness
—the darkness!”
Betty Lumsden knew what fear was.
the fear that grips on the heart with
fingers of ice, the fear that numbs the
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brain and destroys reason. She had
looked into the gaunt eyes of fear in
that room of horror in Tempest street,
where she had seen a man lie dead. But
she had never heard fear speak as it
spoke in Anthony Barrington's rattling
voice.
"Tony! Oh. no, no!”
She hardly knew what she said. She
took a step toward him. and Saw that
he stood afraid to move; saw that those
eyes, twitching no longer, bht fixed in a
dreadful stare, saw nothing of her. noth
ing of what they looked on.
"It’s true, I tell you! Something
snapped in my head, and the light went
out. It’s black—quite black!”
"Tony!”
She crept closer to him. put out her
hand, and felt his close on it desper
ately. "The darkness will lift. If you
keep very quiet the darkness will lift.
Come back with me to the house.”
She felt that, come what might, she
must get him away out of this place,
where everywhere around her Edith’s tor
tured eyes looked down, and Edith’s lips
laughed dreadful laughter.
The Darkness.
"No. no; I can’t see, I tell you. It’s
darkness.” he whispered, like a little
child. "Betty, you can’ leave me. You
wouldn't do that—you wouldn't leave me
alone in the darkness?"
"No. no. Only for a moment—to send
for help—to send for the doctor. Tony—"
He had caught at her desperately in
a grip of whose strength he was utterly
unconscious.
"I won't leave you." she murmured.
"Only come away—here—let us sit down
and wait. Some one will come, perhaps.
Have you no means of communication
with the house? No. let us wait. You'll
be better soon. It’s the excitement—
the- you’ve not been careful enough.
But I'll take care of you now: oh. my
poor boy!” There were tears in Betty's
eyes; she strove to keep them back, to
control her voice.
"’ shall never be better. He gave me
six months at most. It’s the black end.
Oh. Betty, Betty!”
She made no effort to speak. There
were no words she could say. She could
only wait. But she did get him, at lasi,
trembling and starting like a frightened
horse, away from the easel to the long
oak settee with its tumbled cushions tl.
stood against the wall, where he sat ho. .
died against her. There, with her ar >
about him, she made soft sounds of sym
pathy over him, as she might have mad
them over a child.
“Betty, I’m a coward. I can’t face i>.
I can’t”—
"No; .you're not a coward. You’re hard
hit, that's all, but not afraid.” Betty’s
voice was very tender, the grip of het
hand on his was as firm as that of a
man. "There’s no one to see you now—
there’s only me. and 1 understand. This
will pass—you'll be your splendid self.”
"There’s nothing to struggle for. The
pluck's dead gone out of me. If I were
only dead!” groaned the man. miserably.
Betty said nothing. She bad raised her
eyes from the marred face on her shoul
der to see standing at the far end of the
studio, looking at her with an expression
hard to read on her white face, Edith, her
sister and this man’s wife.
The House on the Moor.
Mr. Paul Saxe sat in the spartanly
furnished inner sanctum of the palatial
suite of offices at Chichester House. There
were no flowers in the big vase on the side
table. Miss Tremlett had left her post
suddenly a few weeks before, and her
successor, a male stenographer with large,
flat face and lint eyelashes, had received
no orders regarding the filling of flower
vases and could not quite possibly, have
executed them if he had.
There was a subtle change in the face
of the financier. It was less haggard, less
worried looking, than it had been a few’
months ago when, on one memorable oc
casion. a message had come tinkling over
the wires, conveying the news that for
the moment had startled even him -
"This night thy soul shall be required
of thee." He had long since given up even
wondering what the meaning of those
words could be. .lust for a few hours—a
few days—he had dreaded—he hardly
knew what he dreaded—some lurking
shape that would step out of the shadows,
some figure started up out of the' past,
that w’ould lay chill fingers on this fair
fruit of his success and turn it rotten at
the touch.
If less haggard, the man's face had
hardened; the air of radiant youth that
had given it that curious, almost effimin
ate beauty was gone His character had
hardened also, or else he had dropped the
pose of softness: that was why there were
no roses in the tall glass vase that re
mained as a memorial of the time that
was past.
There was a pile of papers on the table
before him. letters wafting for his signa
ture, that the sandy-haired clerk had
brought in some time ago Patil Saxe had
not looked at them: he was thinking—a
student of character might have seen
him there, like a crafty brown spider in
his web. weaving, always weaving, nets
for the taking of a girl’s white soul. But
they must be woven very craftily, woven
invisibly, so that she slipped herself into
their enmeshing center. He would have
no woman won by’ force to grieve and
pine beside him His wife must become
his wife of her own free choice—within the
limit of that year of grace, Tind he knew
enough of human nature, enough of wom
en. to realze that, once having made her
bargain. Betty Lumsden would be as true
as steel to it.
Another Message. '
It seemed to him that they were spread
ing well, those fine, impalpable nets.
T.he entrance of a clerk w’ith a tele
gram broke in abruptly on this day dream.
Saxe, rousing himself, looked at the or
ange-colored envelope with a certain ap
prehension. as though he. to whom such a
mode of communication was more com
mon than postcards, belonged to the fast
dying race who associate telegrams with
disaster.
To Be Continued in Next Issue.
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Beauty Secrets of Footlight Favorites
The Girl With “Nerves"—the Cause and Remedy
I
<'■' dßw ' : A
\\ f z iv ial I
//
MISS MARIE VERNON.
One of io Ziegfeld beauties in "A Winsome Widow” company.
By MARIE VERNON.
PEOPLE say it’s the fat man who
suffers most in summer time, but
don’t believe it. The real sufferer
is the girl with the nerves.
Why, I know girls who can start in
and worry themselves into heat pros
tration, so that you have to give them
aromatic spirits, put ice to their necks,
fan them and sympathize with them
until their nerves calm down, for it is
just a matter vs nerves.
On the stage, people seem to expect
a display of temperament, but from
what 1 have noticed this temperament,
when it isn't put on, is just nerves un
controlled, and the greatest actresses —
those who make the most success —
don’t indulge in nerves, apd, indeed,
they have learned to control them abso
lutely.
I was in the company once with our
best loved American woman star. 1
won't tell .you who she was. because
you ought to be able to guess. Never
during all the time that I was there
did she give a single display of nerves
behind the scenes, though she had to
be very emotional before the footlights.
Somebody asked her why she was so
quiet and self-possessed at the time,
during rehearsals or when things went
wrong in the company.
"I can’t afford wasting my vitality in
having a tantrum and in losing self
control. which is really what an attack
of nerves is,” was her answer, and it
gave me a good deal to think about, as
she was a delicate little, woman—the
kind you would expect to go all to
pieces at the slightest, thing.
A Good Lesson.
I learned from her to hold myself in
hand and to govern and control my
own nervousness, and since that time,
though 1 don't want to flatter myself.
I think 1 have grown much better look
ing.
The girl who lets herself have nerves
will soon find a lot of little lines and
wrinkles forming in her face, if she
has a very fine skin, they look like tiny
little etched lines on the surface of her
face, and when she is gay and merry
they don't show at all. But the min
ute she is the least bit tired or begins
to fret and worry she looks ten years
older in a very few' minutes.
I suppose nerves come from a poor
constitution; but I have seen lots of
perfectly healthy girls give away to
their fretful thoughts, and become just
as nervous as if they were chronic in
valids; while, on the other hand. I
know girls who really do suffer con
siderable physical pain, but who have
such wonderful self-control that they
never indulge in tantrum, or let you
even think they have aching nerves in
their body.
I don't know what the medical cure
for nerves is, but lots of times a girl
can cure herself without having to go
to a doctor, for 1 was my own physi-.
clan, and 1 think I made a very suc
cessful cure.
When I found that my nervousness,
was beginning to affect my looks and
that 1 was getting thin and harassed
looking. I decided that raw nerves
were a very poor investment for a girl
who wanted to make a success on the
stage.
I decided, first of all, that 1 wouldn't
worry aoout anything that could be
remedied, and that 1 would make my
self stop thinking of the troubles that
couldn't be changed. Os course, this
took some will power, and nebodv can
do it for you; so the nervous git I h is
to just buckle down to a hard mental
drill all by herself. 1 worked hard at
the things I wanted to do, and 1 tried
not to be idle, picking up sewing or
1 reading a hook riming the time that I
otherwise would have spent in fret
ting. I was very thin, and looked
about for a diet that would be sooth
-1 ing to the nervous system and fatten
ing at the same time. After a while
1 this is about what I settled on for my
• daily meals:
’ What To Eat.
r
For breakfast, cocoa, a cereal, twe
t eggs and plenty of bread and butter.
, For lunch, cocoa once more, macaroni,
vegetables, rice or potatoes, and a
fruit salad. At night, 1 had a good
soup.' meat, one fresh vegetable and
potatoes, and fruit for dessert. 1 ate
lots of toasted bread, with butter, for
all my meals. You eat more butter
on toast than you do on ordinary
. bread; have you ever noticed that?
And butter, of course, is fattening.
Just before I went to bed I had a
.lass of malted milk or milk with an
. egg beaten up in it. When I was play
ing I ate a little heartier supper and
kept a bottle of milk in my dressing
Toom to drink between times.
Do You Know—
Occasionally one reads that, when
human bodies are thought to be in riv
irs and can not be found, "a loaf of
bread has been floated down the
stream." But very few people have the
least idea what connection there is
between bread and the finding of bodies.
When the river has been dragged with
out result, a loaf of breaif is cut in
two, a place hollowed out in the middle,
and a quantity of quicksilver inserted.
The two halves of the loaf are then
fastened together again, and the bread
is thrown into the water in the place
where the body is supposed to be. With
out fail, the loaf floats along until it
reaches the vicinrty of the body, and
then revolves quickly, hovering over
the spot.
A German merchant, resident in
Moscow, has left all his fortune,
amounting to half a million, to all those
of his employees who have served un
der him for five years or more. Their
portions are-to he reckoned on the ba
sis of the first annual wage multiplied
by the number of years they have been
in his service. Those who have worked
for the firm less than five years receive
a joint sum of $50,000, which is to be
divided according to wages and length
of service. The staff have decided to
I organize the business inherited by them
| into a joint stock company.
i
Scotland contains a considerable
number of well preserved and impos
ing forests, cared for and protected for
centuries. One of these forests con
tains more than 5.000 acres, with many
trees mo:e than three feet in diameter
"Don't kiss each other on the public
highway; it's awful to see a woman
doing a man's work," is one of the
“Dont’s" of the Wellesley t'ollege Girls.
Nearly $4,000,000 worth of furs were
sold at the Irbit (Russia) fair this year.
Os this amount squirrel skins brought
$1,640,700.
Most gems can be imitated, but at
tempts made to "reconstruct" the em
erald have failed.
<)m --ixth of th'- tesritorial surface
of the globe is occupied by ttie Russia i
em pi re.
I had always boon very much af
fected by the heat and groaned and
complained like other nervous people,
so I made up my mind that I w’ould
never mention the heat again, except
in a casual way, and that I would
stop complaining about it. I soon
found that I didn't feel so hot, and I
looked much cooler, which is’always
sustaining to one’s vitality.
Even now that I don’t confess that
I have any nerves at all, 1 am very
careful not to indulge in tea and coffee,
and 1 pay strict attention to my diet,
because I think that your disposition
depends very largely on what you eat
and how it agrees with you. I couldn't
work well if 1 didn’t feel in good
health, and I certainly could not be
amiable unless I felt right up to the
mark. Now we all know that beauty
depends on an amiable spirit and a
happy disposition as much as it does
on regular features and good eyes.
Given the regular features you ought
to be able to develop a good disposi
tion, and if you have nerves you can
and should conquer them, for there is
nothing more certain than tiiat giving
away to fits of nerves will ruin the
prettiest face and give it a pouting,
peevish expression.
WOMAN SICK
TWELVEYEARS
Wants O ther Women to Know
How She Was Finally
Restored to Health.
Louisiana, Mo.: —“I think a woman
naturally dislikes to make her troubles
-t known to the public,
■ but complete restor
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’ rV'"' ’vuSal 80 rnu< ’b to me that
*’- ■> tz r >4 ■ I cannot keep from
telling mine for the
’■ A sake of other suffer-
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'PSxZ/G’"'" 1 “I bad been sick
t f"' about twelve year",
'y vr ' an( ’ bad eleven doc
f * 'I ' tors. I had dray
‘ ging down pains,
pains at monthly periods, bilious spell
and was getting worne all the time. I
would hardly get over one speli when I
would be sick again. No tongue can t< '■
what I suffered from cramps, and at
times I could hardly walk. The doctors
said I might die at one of those times,
but I took Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta
ble Compound and got better right away.
Your valuable medicine is worth more
than mountains of gold to suffering wo
men.”—Mrs. Bertha Muff, 503 N. 4th
Street, Louisiana, Mo.
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
pound, rflade from native roots and herbs,
contains no narcotic or harmful drugs,
and to-day holds the record of being the
most successful remedy for female ills we
know of, and thousands of voluntary
testimonials on file in the Pinkham
laboratory at Lynn,Mass., seem to prove
this fact.
If you want special advice write to
Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Co. (confi
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1 here Is No Recipe
Ry Reatrice Fairfax
"No man ever yet failed to make love
from ignorance how to begin."—Eden
Phillpots.
“R. W. V.” writes:
“I am a young man of 2». with
fairly good looks and plenty of
money.
"With every available effort I
have tried to gain the affection of
a young woman whom I love dearly,
but she always acts very’ coolly to
ward me, though she accepts ail my
attentions. Her parents do not ob
ject to my keeping company with
their daughter, and always receive
me cordially when I visit them.
“Please tell me what to do to win
her love.”
% CYNIC has defined courtship as "a
period of varying length passed
by a man and a woman in trying
to deceive each other"
How true that may be only those
who claim to have been deceived can
say. But if there be any deception, it
is a deception that pleases. It is a de
ception without w hich no education can
be complete.
It is an experience that makes the
heart more tender, that broadens the
•sympathies, and tiiat for the time be
ing turns to a rose pink all that is gray
in the world.
If in the years to come the. rose pink
begins to fade, there will always be
Ihe sweet memory that the color once
prevailed.
Tills young man wishes to paint the
world a rose pink for the girl he loves,
and she refuses to permit him. In his
dilemma he asks to be shown the way.
Only One Recipe.
My deal- young man, there are recipes
for mixing all kinds of paint but the
rose pink of romance.
Moonlight is not essential, though the
scene is best laid with it as an acces
sory. It Is not necessary that "we
two" be alone. Love has been told
many times in a crowd, and the telling
is just as sweet.
You say you have fairly good looks
and plenty of money. Neither is need
ed. and the love that Is most sincere,
fne most lasting, and the most beautiful
of all is told oftenest without either.
She accepts your attentions, but re
fuses to accept your love. This does
not mean there is any fault with either.
It Is possible to love less than you
love, and win that for which one made
no effort. It is possible to win a girl
by paying her no attention.
No one can define and outline and
portray every little detail of a court
ship that will end in success. It is one
i .... ’aa
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Charlevoix $36.55 Mackinac Island - 538.65
Chautauqua Lake Points 34.30 Marquette ... 46.15
Chicago 30.00 Milwaukee 32.00
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Duluth 48.00 Petoskey 36.55
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of those illusive things that recogniio;
no guide post nor boundary.
You can not compel her to love you.
With every argument in your favor,
and with her parents urging the match,
she can not compel herself.
A Fine Art.
Our ancestors used to make quiie a
study of how to win a fair one’s af
fections. and with them it became a
fine art.
But with all their gallantry?, their
stilted phrases, their long-winded and
verbose love-making, they succeeded no
better than the man of today who de
clares Ids love in six words over the
telephone.
Love requires no special scenery. It
needs no coaxing or attentions of the
kind you are giving. It is not a (mat
ter of will.
Remember that, tny dear young»man,
and if your present methods of siege |
have failed, try riding away to a newer
field. That has often succeeded where
faithful devotion has She is,
sure of you now. With the .first feel-’
ing of doubt there may comeia realiza
tion of what losing you will/mean.
She thinks life would not be pleas- j
ant with you. Let her loam w’hat it is’
without you for a time.
If you have been kind and consider
ate ami devoted, she will miss all this,
and will signal for you to return.
Some women never know they love s
man until they are about to lose him.
Further than these suggestions fori
playing the game, 1 know no more.
GETTING MORE FOOD VALUE
FOR LESS MONEY.
i
When you consider the high foodi
value of Faust Spaghetti and the'
delicious dishes it makes, the cost j
seems ridiculously low. Don’t you,
think you should serve it much '
more often? It will mean a oon- j
siderahle saving in yonr house
hold expenses and a sure delight j
to your family.
Faust Spaghetti is made from Amer- j
lean Durum wheat, by Americans, in aj
clean American factory. We seal It up 4
in dust, dirt and damp-proof packageaj
to keep it clean and wholesome until It]
reaches you. Your grocer sells PMust'i
Spaghetti in 5c and 10c package®.
MAULL BROS.,
St. Louis. Mo.