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Nell Brinkley Says
Things Worth Remembering
One Woman’s Story
By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAN DE WATER
T HROUGH the mossy-carpeted, scented temple, where
hats are lifted tenderly and deftly on and off fair
heads and dark, I strolled, the gentle cynic beside me,
with one bright eye open for an Autumn hat for me, myself.
All about the outer edges of the temple glass cases rose,
filled with vari-eolored chapeaux on their slender stands,
like so many bright storks standing on one leg. Out in the
green open of the temple two-faced mirrors stood about,
each with a tiny gilt and mahogany chair before it.
Tall women, slender as race horses; short ones, round
and plump as partridges, all clad in trailing, ankle-binding
black, insinuated themselves softly about, carrying melting-
ly perfect little hats on three fingers, their faces spread with
the expression of a slave bearing his master’s pet jewel in his
hand. We walked slowly and at last stood still behind a
little beauty of a woman who twisted and turned on a ma
hogany and gilt chair under countless hats that were low
ered to and lifted in a swift succession from her head.
Oh, la; such a weighty matter was this! Here was good,
honest labor and thought spent recklessly! The race-horse
saleslady in black charmeuse searched and worked desper
ately and absorbedly. The girl on the chair, brown-eyed,
gold-haired, sought out her image in the mirror under a
myriad of hats and endless angles Old Time trod swiftly
by, and at last—at last, the little lady rose hastily.
“I must,” she said, ‘‘I must think it over. I like this
little blue one, but I must go home and think it over!”
There was smiling and bowing, and the lady of the startling
brown and gold face-coloring was gone.
The gentle cynic turned and smiled wryly.
‘‘Look at that, pray, mademoiselle! That reminds me,
because it is so different, of the fashion in which that same
careful little lady will go out and take unto herself a hus
band ! Of course, sometimes a woman walks out of a temple
of millinery with a fright on her head, just as she leaves the
church door with a fright by her side. But in the first mis
take it isn’t because she didn’t spend time and gray matter
on it!
‘‘See, now, this little lady. She worked like a little tow-
head, using time, patience, all her brain, her judgment, her
artistic sensibilities. She didn’t stop at one. She tried two
dozen on the top of her gilt head. And now—she has gone
home to ‘think it over.’ ^
‘‘How will it be when she takes a mate? He will prob
ably pick up her wisp of a handkerchief on the train between
Atlanta and New T York, they will look once into each other’s
eyes and the next day there will be a wedding and their
pictures in the paper. She’ll never know if he’s becoming to
her style of disposition until after she has him. She’d never
in a thousand years walk out with the first hat that rav
ished her eye. She goes home to ‘think it over.’ But she
■walks off with the first man who touches her heart. And it’s
after that she ‘thinks it over.’
‘‘Tell me why that is—when the hat may be chucked
into the yesterdays when this short season is over—and a
husband lasts forever?”
*So I have made a picture of it for the cynic’s delecta
tion. If he is right or not I do not know.
The official viper-killer of France
has a dress composed of 900 skins of
venomous reptiles. He receives a small
payment for the head of every viper
he destroys. .
light thrown upon it from a lighthouse
on the Island of Lewis, over 500 feet
away.
a pair of yellow gloves. Mary remem
bered suddenly that Howells had said
that Silas Lapham's hands in evening
gloves loke<1 like hams. She also re
membered that her caller had probably
never heard of Howells, or of any au
thors with whom she was familiar.
What could he and Hhe talk about this
evening? What would they have in
common? And, as she usked herself
this question, she was observing every
detail of this man's flashy person, his.
rather oily auburn hair, the heavy mus
tache several shades darker than his
lair, his Hmall gray eyes, pink-and*
white complexion and full, sensuous
lips. Yet, some girls would consider
him handsome. He had a l^nd face,
and she wanted some one to be kind
to her.
"Sit down, won’t you?” she said.
She tried not to notice that he
dropped Into a chair without waiting
until she herself was seated. What
did such trifles matter?
"I got your telegram Just after l
reached home," Fletcher said, "anti 1
came as soon as I’d my supper. It was
good of you to let me come to-night
after all. I was awfully disappointed
when 1 got that telephone message
down at the office saying I'couldn’t call,
so your telegram was real cheering."
"I found out that I would be disen
gaged this evening." she explained, her |
eyes cast down. "I got to thinking
as I came uptown of a matter that |
might take time to-night, but when I I
got home I found a message that al
tered my plans, so I changed my mind
and sent you word that you could
come. To change one’s mind is wo
man's prerogative, you know." She
CHAPTER XXIII
I N after years. Mary Danforth looked
„ back at the moments during w’hlch
she waited at her door while Her
bert Fletcher came upstairs toward her
as a crisis in her life. It was as if she
stood at a point where she turned her
back upon her youth, her fancies, her
hopes, and deliberately faced a grim
something of which she knew nothing,
in which lurked a duty she could not
escape—a duty to her mother. Yet
back of the thought of her mother there
was another impulse, one that drove
her on to take blindly a step which
she would not pause to consider. That
Impulse was born of wounded pride and
of heartache such as she had never be
fore felt, and which even now she would
not analyze. And as she stood, swayed
by these emotions, she heard Bert
Fletcher's heavy footfalls coming slowly
into her life.
Wonderful Forces.
Conventionality and self control are
wonderful forces. They enabled this
fragile girl to face her caller calmly as
he reached the top stair and turned to-
W’ard her. He did not take off his hat
until he had shaken hands with her.
‘‘Why, good evening, Miss Danforth!”
he said, holding out his large hand and
grasping her slender Angers In a grip
that almost made her wince.
“Hood evening," she returned in well-
modulated tones "Come right In. won't
you? Will you hang your coat and hat
there on the rack?"
He had removed his hat as he came
into the apartment, and now wriggled
out of a tan overcoat evidently entirely
new. as Mary noticed. She also ob
served that his vivid tie had never been
worn before. His light suit made his
large figure appear more rotund than
usual, and, as he talked, he pulled off
A pigeon flew against the face of
the Ipswich Town Hall clock and was
caught between the minute hand and
the dial. The clock was stopped for
an hour until the bird was liberated.
On Amish Rock, Stornoway Bay, is a
lighthouse without a light. Instead, It
has a mirror which reflects a ray of
aareai—
The cost of living is a hard
nut to crack for the working
man. He must have nutri
tious food and plenty of it
and the food must be cheap.
Do you know that there is
more nutrition in a 10c pack
age of FAUST SPAGHETTI
than there is in 4 lbs.
of beef? It is rich in
gluten, the food content /
that makes muscle,bone /
and flesh. /
By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
One of the Greatest Mystery Stories Ever Written
(Copyright, 1913. by Anna Katharine
Green.)
“You have not been so absorbed In
your new life that you have not read
this in the papers?”
Genevieve shook her head.
"Why didn’t you say something to
some one, then? I should have thought
you wmuld, Genevieve, if only to pro
tect us from the surmises and sus
picions of the police. But perhaps you
did not know what a secret you were
hiding. Perhaps the girl had not given
you her real name or shown you her
real face.”
“Her face?” repealed Mrs. Cameron,
under her breath, her eyes growing
large and black in the stare she fixed
upon her mother.
“Yes, they say—all say—that this girl,
this Mildred Farley Was that the
name she gave you?”
Genevieve quivered. Did she nod yes,
or did that look of hers mean no.
” Looked so much like you that
It was really remarkable "
Mrs. Cameron dropped at once Into
her usual manner.
“Do they say that?” she inquired,
loosening her furs with a steady hand
and carelessly throwing them into a
chair near by. “Well, it is odd!” And
turning toward the hall, she cried, al
most gaily, “Come in, Walter. I have
been caught In an equivocation and you
must help me to reinstate myself."
Promptly at this call, the tall form and
fine features of Dr. Cameron appeared
on the threshold.
"I do not understand you," said he,
“but I will do what I can."
And there he paused, for his eye had
fallen on Mr. Gryce, and he expe
rienced a vague trouble, that he In
stinctively sought to hide.
“Can I do anything to remedy my
fault?” she asked.
Mr Gryce stepped rapidly forward
"You can tell us whether you left her
in this room when you went down to
be married."
More Admissions.
her to go home when she got ready.
Was there anything w-rong in that?”
“Certainly not, madam; we only wish
to get at the facts. And was she there
when you returned?”
“No,” Mrs. Cameron lightly shook her
head. “She had disappeared. I had
not expected her to remain. Walter,
where are you going? Wait for me, do.
This gentleman will not keep me much
longer, I know.”
Dr. Cameron, who had withdrawn
from the doorway, at this last word of
his wife, paused on the spot where he
stood, but did not come back into the
room.
“My husband is in a hurry,” she ex
claimed to the detective. "Is there any
thing more you would like to ask me
about this girl?”
“Well, yes. madam, there is,” re
turned Mr. Gryce suavely, “In the first
place I would like to know how you be
came acquainted with iher; then how
far that acquaintanceship ” "At, and
lastly what light you can throw upon
her death. All these things it would be
of service to me to hear, for as you
already know, there is suspicion abroad
that she did not meet her death by her
own free will and act, but was helped to
It by a certain person whom you also
know, or at least have lately seen.”
“Walter, can you spare me five min
utes?” Mrs. Cameron inquired, going to
the door and looking smilingly Into the
hall.
very condition that no foot had entered
It since Mr. Cameron went out.
This circumstance was certainly a
most fortunate one, and lent to the sur
vey which this astute detective at once
gave it an Interest it could not have
otherwise possessed. Even Mrs. Gre-
torex seemed to catch the infection of
the moment, and peered about in cor
ners and under the tables as if her life
depended upon finding some clew with
which to help forward the cause of jus
tice. He watched,her as much as he
tudied the room, and only when he
perceived that she was quite satisfied
that no stray veil was to be found, did
he point to a pile of clothes that clut
tered up a small alcove at one end of
the room, an^ remarked:
"Your daughter seems to have flung
her whole wardrobe here In a heap.
These are her clothes, are they not?”
"Certainly; old ones which she had
before she was married, but too good to
be scattered about like this. I won
der ”
But here a voice thick with emotion
broke in with the words:
"What does this mean? What is this
going on in my room without my knowl
edge?”
With a quick movement both turned.
Mrs. Cameron, bonneted and wrapped in
furs, was standing before them in the
open doorway.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT
"Madam, do you know a Dr. Moles-
worth of this city?”
"I do not.”
"Are you sure that no such person
was invited to your daughter’s wed
ding?"
“Positive.”
"Then, if he was here at all. he was
here against your knowledge?”
"Moat certainly.”
"We do not know’ that he was, but
he Is the person who professed to pick
up Miss Farley from the stoop of a
house In Twenty-second street, and as
that sloty is somewhat incredible, we
are trying to prove he carried her away
from this house, w'here he certainly was
in attendance on Miss Gretorex as early
as 9 o’clock in the evening.”
"Then all you wish of us Is to prove
that attendance?”
He bow’ed.
"Why not prove It. then, in a simpler
wav? Can not Mrs. Cameron sav wheth
er she bad any such person with her or
not ?”
He knew why this was asked. He
knew that the mother’s heart was
throbbing wdth anxiety under all her
pride and self-possession, to learn what
her equally proud daughter concealed
j under her silence and seeming indif-
i ference
“1 have not questioned Mrs. Came
ron,” he therefore, said, “but from the
fact that she has volunteered no in
formation to the police I take It for
granted that she does not know the
right name and history of the person
she employed "
"Your conclusions are doubtless cor
rect." the mother allowed. But she
looked as if she would like to be as
sured of the fact "And now will you
come up to her room?”
Wondering at her calmness, for he
knew that she had in some way re
ceived a blow, he rose and followed her
upstairs As they passed Peter, Mr.
Gryce gave him a faint smile, perhaps
in the way of remuneration for the dis
appointment he was conscious of having
caused him.
1 think that I have somewhere said
that the room formerly occupied by
Miss Gretorex was In the front of the
house. It was large, and. as Mr. Gryce
perceived upon their entrance, an ex
ceedingly attractive and home-like
apartment But It was all In disorder
at the present time, snowing by its
SPAGHETTI
will reduce yeur cost of
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buy a few packages of
FAUST SPAGHETTI
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book — shows how
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Severe Cwe of a Philadelphia
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I t...i 4 * .i irU'a fiop u lit
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alW Ww my pars tlm *
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Short time I was able to do all my
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g have recommended it In every
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Another Bad Caae.
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I was pale and weak and would have
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was under the care of different doc
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"Lydia E. Plnkham’s Vegetable
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If you want special advice write to
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KIajwo.
Mrs. Cameron at Her Worst—
and Best.
F OR an instant Mrs Gretorex and
the detective, so dissimilar in all
other regards, wore the same ex
pression of disconcertedness, but only
for an instant. She from policy and
he from custom soon assumed an as
pect of self-possession; and Mrs. Gret
orex. speaking in behalf of both, ob
served with a nonchalance that* the
other secretly admired:
"We were looking for that poor girl’s
veil It seems that It Is missing, and
that the police imagine ‘it to have been
dropped here."
A mortal pallor spread a ghastly light
over Genevieve Cameron’s face
"I am at a loss ’’ she began, but
meeting her mother’s eye, quailed, and
caught hold of the door at her side for
support.
"I suppose you knew that the young
woman who was In the habit of bring
ing home your dresses djed on your
wedding night?" that mother inexorably-
pursued.
No answer. ... „ . i _ .
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"And do you know all that, too?” she
asked. “What clever people you are!
I declare I never imagined the police
were such adepts at getting informa
tion. Yes. she was with me that night
—helped me to dress and arrange my
veil. I had not expected her, for She
had received her pay when she brought
home the last dress, and I had no rea
son to thing she would come—but her
presence was very welcome for all that,
and she assisted me. as I say, and when
the time came for me to go down I left
Every Woman
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mm
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Choosing a Hat and a Husband
Copyright, 1913, by International Nows
Service.
By NELL BRINKLEY