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© © 4” H oman Never Eats When She Has Anything Else 7o Do ■» © JT]^ The Lust of This Great Series The Seven Mistakes of Matrimony —NO. 7— BAY r Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers By DOROTHY DIX. T HE seventh deadly mistake of matrimony Is: NOT TO MAKE MATRIMONY A PROFESSION. Perhaps the greatest mistake of all. and the one that sums all the others up. consists In regarding suc cess In marriage as an accident in- <,? *d of a premeditated re'sult. The most mischievous idea that has ■■rr been promulgated Is that mar riage is a lottery. In which everything I, determined by blind chance, and in which it Is a mere matter of luck whether you get a desirable life part ner or an undesirable one. or are happy or miserable. Nothing on earth is further from , truth than this. Nowhere else ,]fu.fi the inevitable logic of cause and ffrrt work out so relentlessly as in .... domestic relationship. Nowhere tise do we so absolutely reap as we 50w as in the family circle, and. given .•tain people and certain conditions, it is Just as demonstrable that a narnage will work out Well, or badly it is that two and two make four. The trouble with us is that we have over yet elevated matrimony to the i gnity of a profession, for which we have thought it worth while to pre pare That is why we fail in the most important thing in life. No youhg man would expect to mr.ke a howling success as a surgeon or a lawyer if he had never even contem plated seriously medicine or the law, vet a poor deluded woman marries him under the impression that she is u tting a first-class husband, and he himself has no doubt of his qualifica tions on that score. A young woman who wants to be sn opera singer devotes years of arduous labor to fitting herself to sing on the stage, but she does not spend an hour preparing herself to fill the far more difficult and complicated role of a wife and mother. A WRONG ASSUMPTION. People seem to think that a knowl edge of how to be good husbands and wives comes bv nature, as Dogberry thought the knowledge of how to read and write did. Roth assump tions are equally false. It takes effort and perspiration, as well as In spiration, to succeed In any calling, and especially the domestic calling. Undoubtedly the matrimonial situa tion would be enormously eased if men and women would begin married life by a thorough understanding of just the elementary things. If every woman knew how to keep house and make a comfortable home when she marries instead of having to learn Imr trade oh her husband, and If every man could be brought to real ize before marriage just how much money It costs to support a family, a '•ung couple would start out with an infinitely better chance for happiness than they hare where the wife gets hysterical over her inability to cook a meal that isn’t a menace to life it self, and where the husband is In a perpetual grouch when it dawns on him that matrimony is conducted on a cash basis, instead of the hot air currency of courtship. The hope of the future is for In telligent people to regard marriage as a profession that is worthy of profound study, and in which it is as much a disgrace to fail as It is in the practise of any other profession. A SECRET. It Is literally true that almost any marriage could be made happy, or at least endurable, if either husband or wife would pursue the method that be or she would in trying to attain *uecess in any profession or business, •ind all that would be necessary to io this would be to use the same tac tics that are used in the practise of business or the professions. Take the matter of the husband's ind wife’s relationship. That is merely . partnership, and all that any mar- i ed couple need to achieve ideal happiness is just to rise to the point where they can treat «ach other as two men in business together do. Find a husband and wife who work together with the same interest in view, who are climbing up together, who share equally in the profits of their Joint labor, who talk things over together and have an equal voice in deciding things, yet who allow each other in their individual capacity per sonal liberty, and you have got a husband and wife whose domestic felicity Is strong enough to draw money on at the bank. Furthermore, a man who has any intelligence tries to get along with the people with whom he deals. If he was always quarrelling with his partner he would know that the house was bound to oome to disaster. He would be aware that if he did not exercise tact .and diplomacy toward his clients that it was a mere matter of time until the sheriff sold him out. Women know these things too. and there is nobody who is # more long suf fering. and patient, and filled with forbearance than the business or professional woman who has to ca jole the men above her in order to hold down her Job. JUST SUPPOSE. Suppose these men and women, who are so plausible and suave in order to succeed in their business should apply an equal amount of diplomacy at home; suppose these men and women, who are so careful to side step the little peculiarities of their customers, would be as nimble in sidestepping the little peculiarities of their husbands and wives, wouldn’t they make matrimony as great a suc cess as they do law, or medicine, or the grocery business? Yea, verily. We quarrel with those with whom we live because w'e do j not think it worth while to keep the peace. We say brutal things to them j because there is no money in our pocket for being polite We wound them in their tender sensibilities be cause they can t get away from us, anyway. We make marriage a fail ure because we are too ignorant and laity and careless to make it a success. And the shame is on our own heads. It ought to be just as much a reflec tion upon any man’s or woman s abil ity to be a bankrupt in domestic hap piness as a bankrupt in business. And it will be when we take marriage out ! of the amateur class and put it in 1 the professional. (From the play by George Scar borough. now being presented at the 1 Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York. , Serial rights held and copyrighted by International News Service.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. H E started toward her he would execute a flank maneuver and drive the wounded creature Into a corner “Give it to me!” ordered Flagg. Flagg, with mupder and lust fighting f<>r place in his evil eyes. The wounded animal—at bay—driven to the wall fights hard. “You’re choking me!” the girl man aged jo articulate. Tighter, tighter closed the fingers "You’ll be unconscious soon," gloated her captor, “and then I’ll have my way and rny pay, my fine lady." Frenzied, desperate, the girl reversed the paper file and plunged the long* sharp end Into Flagg’s breast. He stag gered back—and in the suddenness of her release Aline fell across the table. 'rir'Syj *•£ ■ r mN: ; THE FAMILY CUPBOARD A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in Mew York “I felt that proud, you see, ey here. Not quite rny own. The girl to* -so I came. I am not Ken. f have some mon- much but it is quite— I’ll leave it, Ken.’’ k a little roll of bills ng pre- ork, by 1913, by ALLMKNT Too Very Queer People At last Aline roused herself from her shrouding leth argy. Fear impelled her. The instinct to escape claimed her—and she turned to escape. Then as she faced the door and safety—just as she stood i:n' ■ the full glare of the cen ter chandelier and was face t.o lace (if she had lifted her tired eyes) with" Flagg’s masterpiecce of art, the painting of Justice —just then, there was a blinding flu.sh! An irascible elderly gentleman or dered a bottle of hock with his lunch. ’Ock, sir?” said the waiter. “Yes, sir.” Not ’ock,” said the customer; hock—hie, hac, hoc. D’you under stand ?“ The waiter disappeared, and some twenty minutes elapsed, while the elderly one sat nursing his wrath to keep it warm. At last, catching the p rrant waiter’s eye. he yelled, furi ously: Where’s that hock?” ’Ock, sir?” said the waiter, in a grieved and surprised tone, “I thought you declined it.” * * * "Doctor,” said the caller, “I’m a vic tim of insomnia, (’an you cure me?” T can,” replied the physician. "But before I take the case I want to ask y°u one question. Are you in busi- fi p ss for yourself, or do you work for ot hers?” I'm employed as an assistant at a grocery,” answered the patient. Then you’ll have to pay in ad vance,” said the doctor. "I'm not doubting your honesty, but after I g, r through with you the chances are you will sleep so soundly you’ll lose Your job. Then you can't pay me.” • * * Not long ago a North-county vicar married an elderly couple at 11 ° clock in the morning. At 8 in the afternoon his duties took him to the oMghhoring cemetery, where he met ! f * p ame couple seated loving on one the benches. You see. sir.” the husband ex plained, “my wife is a real ’un for pleasure. I wanted to goo back to me "'ork this artemoon. but th' missus * p d we’d better enjoy ourselves to th’ full and mak’ a day on’t.” By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. DEAR MISS FAIRFAX: i haven't been married quite a year, and my husbahd and 1 are very much in love with each oth er—but the worst of it is he just wants me to be one of his family —and not myself at all. He has cousins and uncles and j aunts, and he thinks it’s terrible. and they all seem to think so. too, If 1 want to go anyxvhere f with people who are no relation to any of us. I think they’re queer about It— but my husband says I’m the one that’s queer. Is he or am I? KINFOLKS. v xr tell, the chances are, Kinfolks, V/V/ that you’re both queer—most people are when you come right down to it. But, from my point of view, your husband is the queerest of the two. Kinfolks are all very well in their way, but what’s the use of limiting your life to them—and to them alone? Why not broaden out your circle of friends and learn something differ ent while you are about the business of living? 1 know' some people—let’s call them ^rnith—well, the Smiths never talk about a thing on earth but their “In laws’’ and the queer things their “in laws’’ are always doing, or saying, or looking, or being, and the only queer thing that I can see about most of the "in-laws” is that they weren’t born by the name of Bmith and haven’t the Smith nose or the Smith haven’t the Smith nose or the Smith faculty of putting up jam, or the Smith memory for figures-—that’s all. Now, don’t you be like the Smiths, little sister, and don’t you let your husband be like them, either. Make your own circle of friends—don’t say mean things about your “in-law's”—• don’t even think them—just be so busy with your owui friends and 4 he friends you hope to make for that nice husband of yours that you haven’t time to think very much about it one way or the other. It is the woman’s place to make the friends of the fami ly—it is your business to have pleas ant friends and acquaintances—if not for your own sake, for your hu»* band’s. Choose them—ask them to your M*- tle tlat—have some simple little re freshment—a cup of really good cof fee and some thin slices of bread and butter are not to be sneered at, let me tell you. Be friendly and unaf fected and kind and you’ll soon have so many friends that you won’t know what to do. Then hang on to them—for they’re about all there is in the world that makes life worth living. Misunderstood. It was at a country ball at which the regular printed ball program, with the dainty little pencil attached, was being used for the first time. A young fellow from the city, noting that a stout and not very attractive young woman was being a good deal of a wall dower, took pity on her and said: “Is your program full?” “My what?” “Your program." After a moment's reflection she said: “La, no! I ain’t et but one dough nut!” . ‘What the h i do you think I am?” She thrust the infamous yet precious pink paper into the bosom of her gown, caught hack the clinging, impeding soft draperies—and fled in w'ild effort to escape her pitiless hunter—fled to the great door—toward the outside world—toward sanctuary and Home! In His Hand. She reached the threshold, her fingers fumbled against the wood —touched the knob—and Judson Flagg reached her In an evil, spiderlike leap and caught her white wrist in a quick, twisjing grasp Innocence can not bear the physical horror of the clammy touch of evil. “Don’t put your hand on me!” screamed Aline, shrill with horror and degrading fear. That this creature of slime and crime should touch her! “I’ll put both hands on you—you vix en! ’ cried the man. This was a game fish, thought he—it struggled—well, more jo>* w'hen he landed it in his arms and at his feet. He caught the girl in his arms. He drew’ her roughly and violently into an evH embrace and set his lips on hers with the menace of his tainted life for her sweet youth. “That letter’ That—or my days by the sea’" he said. “Give up—my girl— I have you!’’ “I won’t! I won’t!" cried Aline Her desperate resistance taxed his wasted and disipated strength, he dragged her from the door, over to his heavy table, he forced her slender body back against his edge Dully she felt the bruising pain of the wood. In the grim light of the room they struggled, untaxed youth with clean longings and aspirations against wary age. with evil desire and overtaxed and outworn energy. To which the victor?, ami would vic tory not mean defeat, too. The girl was a creature at bay. Life, honor, happiness, a chance for existence were being hunted by a merciless crea ture who would scarcely enjoy the fruit of his victory. To Aline that fight was fob more than life, to the man it was less than duet, and there was a price both must pay. Aline freed her arm. She gTopod wildly for a weapon She must have aid. Her woman’s strength was going She was fighting in a struggle for which life had offered her no training Her blindly, groping hand knocked papers and books to the floor: wild disarray claimed the desk and room. Flagg s heel ground deep into one of the cap tain’s roses. Suddenly he pinioned her free arm back of her. The pain was excruciating —but she could bear it for her fingers had closed on cold heavy metal -a great iron bill--file. She shrieked hysterically, and he loosed her arm to draw her whole form closer -to kiss her again “Let me go! Let mo go!" She struck him on the shoulder with the flat base of the bill-holder. “Put that down! I’ll break your arm!” She gave a sob of pain and stuck at his forehead. In a fury he laid his long rapacious fingers on her white throat. j ' And your d—n neck, too! hissed Horror marked her face. What had sho done? She had been at bay—she had fought —and now grim struggle was to be fol lowed by grimmer quiet. “Ah—ah—try,” gasped Flagg, “to murder me!" He staggered to his feel from the chair into which he had fallen in utter collapse. “I didn’t want to hurt you!” breathed Mire, Ih a whisper of horror. WHAT, WilAT HAD SHE DONE? she questioned her fast beating heart. WHAT HAD SHE DONE? “I didn’t want to hurt you!" she moaned. Tall and slim and white, like a withering lily, she stood by the mas sive desk. Her brown gold hair had fallen in disarray from its coronal on her head. Her eyes were wide with terror—her lips were bleached. WHAT HAD SHE DONE? “Tommy!” called Judson Flagg He sank Into the chair again, his face distorted with pain, his hand fumbling, fifnibling to pull the long needlelike file from his breast. Paralyzed by fright and fascinated by horror. Aline stood and watched him. Strangely enough, he ha/1 become The victim now Suddenly there was a wrench, a spurt cf blood, and Flagg pulled the needle point from his breast. He staggered toward the desk ahd Aline shrank away at his approach. Flagg seized the edge of the desk for support—and, too late, the girl, who had moved away, divined his purpose, for he caught her emerald brooch in his left hand. Then, still clutching the weapon of doom as he had pulled it from his breast, he be gan groping—groping At last Aline roused herself from her shrouding lethargy. Fear Impelled her. The Instinct to escape claimed her —and she turned to escape. Then as she faced the door and safety—Just as she stood under the full glare of the center chandelier and was face to face (if she had lifted her tired eyes) with Flagg’s masterpiece of art, the paint ing of Justice—Just then, there was a blinding flash! Flagg’s groping hand had found the electric button! He gasped for breath—and then, with a final chuckle, Judson Flagg spoke his epilogue to life. “1 got your brooch—and T got yout picture for the police!” The noise of the explosion died—the light faded again. “Tommy!” screamed Judson Flagg gurgling the death agony. But he voiced his cry to the one human being who loved him. “Coming—Uncle Judson!" came a far-off voice. The girl fled back into the shrouding night. She made her way to the home she had loft that fear might be do stroyed and. Instead, fear triumphed. What had she done? Across the table in a grim den of gloom sprawled Judson Flagg—dark, saturnine, like a giant spider, and in his hand was the emerald brooch Gor don Graham had given bis Wli< when their baby girl was born. But arru-s the table, a tins stream of blood wa trickling toward the bills the $200 that had been too small a price for honor or life Silence and darkness! Then a boy’s anguished cry—“Uncle Ju/d! Uncle Jud! Speak to me! Untie Jtld! DEAD! MURDERED!” The flash of light from every corner of the gloomy chamber, the jar of an opening window, a quick glance up and down the empty st • et. and then a !><.'• s tierr.Mtng voice stea II I < » a w..d Poli i r The Secret Service. In the office of the Chief of the M cret Service of the United States thiee men sat talking. They were. CapUiin Larry Holbrook, Chief Dempsey id Father Shannon. “Larry,” said the chief, “you have been arrested once b> this Govern ment.” There whs a bit of quiet in sinuation in his tone. “Yes, Chief, once in cw Urbans You arrested me for trying to g**t some rifles over to General Garcia. But re member this, six month later the Uni ted States sent the whole arm over on the same job. ’ “But the Government regarded y<m an offender then." went on the insinu ating voice. “Not too much to make me a < • ;•- tain In the Philippine constabulary a year later. ’ “Why did you quit- your GOVERN MENT job?” went on R roster. “Boinethirtgr in tlie blond " “Fever?’ “Born there 1 couldn’t ride herd on a people fighting for their own libert; You si p, Chief, if ' wei er I’d been born in Ireland As it was I was born on Second avenue Oppres sion drove my father from home. I think it was the stories 1 heard at rny mother’s knee that made me ready to take filibustering jaunts UNDER A FLAG FOR FREEDOM. THAT MADE ME A PERPETUAL MEMBER OF THE MINORITY.” “He Is that.” said Father Shannon, warmly, “the rascal av.-l my life in Manila I was In the minority and the flames were a vast majority'’’ “What nonsense 1 made him got out of bed when a house was on tire." “He carried me unconscious be gan Father Shannon. “Some friend is apt to do ns much for me any Saturday night," laughed the merry Irish lad of T. “Chief, lie touches no drop!” said Fa titer Shannon, and a twinkle came to the chief’s eye. “Ifolhrook!’’ said he, "there’s a big expedition on foot for Nicaragua YYlmt can you tell me about it?" There was a steady gleam in his eye—he would not be denied. “Dutch Dugan busv%gain!” exclaimed the captain. “That’s the man. but we can't get our hands on him, captain." “I’d tell you, Bob, If I knew, but ” The two men eyed each other, and the steady twinkle never faded from Larry But tell your men to go easy with Dugan. He's not a bad chap!” The chief smiled, and h glim of steel came into his eyes and over the settled lines of his month. in the further office a telephone sounded its insistent call. ' E\< ime, gentlemen," said the chief with g/ave courtesy. Holbrook turned to the father. “Well now. I’ll tell you something in confi- dt n< ■ a a man to his priest, mind ye, in th*- most sacred confidence. You Rather Shanon smiled. "You know well you can trust tne. Larry,” “Well—then—I AM DUGAN'S expedi tion!” • You. nie lad?” To Be Continued Monday. denied the far that come tions to th< “Mary!” The b< . ders straightened filled with purpos tion he scarcely se boyhood swc. ih « friend of his whole t “Mary!” It was tft* If sun >f springtime had < to his garish gloo soned rooms. “Thank you, M.i here,” said the h that was brighten* sunshine that he l< wall he might ne < roses in the gar* Mary's life -well, inhale the perfun ute—and then go But a love like M and perhaps, pi who kaows wh; to Kenneth Nelso The boy stood aome wonderful v bit—and softly and kir tension. “Ken, 1 read yout mother.” “Did you?” said th 1)1 at ease before this the purity and' fine had unconsciously b< his life "Did you—the last .—it was funny was “It was very sad. broke her heart and in a frightened lilt tone. “She did not even the boy. "But you thlsed* Mai tenon with an abrupt that a tender tone his hungry heart tn what right urn to* tn gfrl like M. “She cou She ia ver> proud. Kent ' unhappy. She could nm ey to spend on s<>m< thing did not approve and you written asking iter not lo “My father has written they are getting together igal," exclaimed Kenneth. “No!” said Marj. sadl read that letter to her at answer it And it only help you under the --< irej? Iff proud, too!" And Mary, who had the i is ashamed only <*f a wr and an evil deed, sighed of life that heM the peer as if they Were lost in a gle. Kenneth s pride fiaiTd « "1 won’t ask agaift!" stubbornly. from *u1— from her bag and dropped it on the table. "NO!” There was surprise mingled with horror • »f what he had become In bis tone. But Kenneth Nelson knew that Mary Burk was offering him the kindest, truest, friendship his life was ever to know. “Why not? We have ben friends al ways You can pay me big interest. It will be a good investment,” coaxed the girl, trying to make her love offer ing appear only a business transaction "as man to man." “NO!” “How silly! I would not hesitate to ask a favor of you! I I will never ! hesitate to come to you if I am in need : of a true friend, Ken. Why, you are 1 more than that—you are. almost like my ; brother!” When a woman waftts to serve the man she loves with that peerless devo- ! tion that can come only once In a life time with that love that most men. j worthy or unworthy, miss—she will de ny her love -she will call him "friend” and “brother” so that he may the more I willingly accept the sacrifice that puts J his love beyond her claiming^ and gives it to t he \\ oman he has chosen. ! The door to the side corridor opened. With a little air of being perfectly at | home, Kitty A^ty entered the room. The Two Girls. of Mary she affected pretty she began—“Oh! I- she ously- lad no He it ion j Iren with .(rusting eyes! This was Jtifct □Isom , Mary and Kitty! Just Mary and Kitty — .*. m j but the good and the bad angels of his • " life would war for him to-day. Mary declared, ! j and Kitty! Which would win? To Be Continued Monday. CHICHESTER S PILLS o«nrr Itnif of ,» ar V PruiKpaL. A W for 4 |( 1 .<'If S-TF Vt’F DIAMOND IlMAND IMI.I.ft, ft* t» yctrt. known as best. 5af«t. Always Reliable SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVERVWHFR5 Every Woman |s .interested and shonld know about the wonderful Marvel Douche Aslcyonrdrugg 1st for It. If ha Cannot sup ply the MAKVKL, accept no other, but send stamp for book. tUrnel U, 44 E. 236 St.. N.T. TKODAK FOR XMAS 15 to SM. Brewnle* |l to $12. Send for *o mo lots catalog today. SPECIAL ENLARG ING OFFER—6'/f xl'/j, mounted, from Kodak negative, 30c. An Opportunity ToMakeMoney ^35^ iavenfort, men of idraa a*^ inventive abJity, ihool3 write to- dey fr our Lot of Ntrmf!o»t netted, and prizes oflerod by Irsdhig manufacturers or c * r tee returned "WKy 3o«o tavontor f ail. How to Get Your Patent and Yout Mossy. ’ ©the valuable booklets ae»t freo to aaddress Eta RANDOLPH & CO. Potent Attorney*. 618 “F’ Street, N. W M WABMIKWTON. I*. C. HI mm jtsm...... - - unatteB aatevsiit, Schedules Change Dec. 7,1913 ON \ND AFTER SUNDAY, DECEMBER TTT7, CENTRAL OF GEORGIA RAILWAY TRAINS WILL LEAVE ATLANTA, FROM TERMINAL STATION, AS FOLLOWS, EXCEPT AS NOTED: No. 2, 8:00 a. m.—DAY EXPRESS, 1'or Macon, Savannah, Al bany. Americus, J;v Cunvillc and intermediate points. Parlor Car to Albany, Ga. No. 08, 9:47 a. m DIXIE LIMITED, first train December 8, for Macon, CortMe, Tifto** Waveross and Jacksonville. Observa tion Library < nr. Pullman T -ping Cars, Dining Car and Coaches to Jacksonville, Fla. No. 10, 12:30p. m.—For Macon, Milledgeville, Millen, Valdosta, Americus, Albany and intermediate points. Parlor Car to Macon, Ga. No. 12, 4:00 p. in.— For Griffin, Macon and intermediate points. Parlor Car to Macon, Ob. No. 94, 8:30 p. m.—DIXIE FLYER—For Macon, Cordole, Tif- ton, Wayoross and Jacksonville. Observation Library Car, Pullman Sleeping Cars and Coaches. No. 4, 9:00 p. m.—NIGHT EXPRESS—For Macon and Savan nah. Connects at Macon with G. S. & F. for Cordele, Tifton, Val dosta and Palatka. - pirn: Car to Savannah, Ga., and Palatka, Fla. No. 32, 10:10 p. m. SOUTH ATLANTIC LIMITED- For Ma con, Cordele, Tifton, Waveross and Jacksonville. Sleeping Cars and Coaches to Jacksonville. Broiler Buffet Car serves breakfast Tifton to Jacksonville. No. 8, 11:40 p. m.—MIDNIGHT EXPRESS—For Macon, Americus, Albany, TlioniasviUe, Dawson, Cuthbert, Eufaula and Southwest Georgia and Fast Alabama points. Pullman Sleeper to Thomasville, Central Sleeper to Montgomery. NOTE.—All trains will arrive in Atlanta at Terminal Station, as at present, except No. 15 from Macon, Southwest Georgia and East Alabama points will arrive at 7 :55 p. m. instead of 8:10 p. ra., and No. 99, DIXIE LIMITED, from Jacksonville, Waycross, Tifton, Cordele and Macon, will arrive ' first train December 9th) 8:03 p. m. NOTE,—No. 4, NIGHT EXPRESS, for Macon and Savannah, carrying Savannah and Palatka Sleepers, will leave at 9:00 p. m. instead of 9:35 p m No. 98, DIXIE LIMITED, first traiu South,, will leave Atlanta Monday, December 8t,h. For additional ii ormation, ask the TICKET AGENT, comer| Peachtree and Marietta streets, and at Terminal Station. W. II. FOGG, District Passenger Agent, Atlanta, Ga. CENTRAL OF GEORGIA RAILWAY At slaht j confusion. "Hello! | J trailed off. I Mary turned and looked at her. Then ! with a friendly little gesture she step- ! ped forward. “This is Kitty?” she asked. Kenneth hung his head in the most ! genuine shame he had ever felt, at the thought of what he had done with his ' life for love—if love it could be called— I of Kitty May. “You’d better go." he said. I “Why?” asked Mary genuinely. Kitty braced herself against the table | and spoke with a hard little show of | bravado. “Because all his fine friends are too proud to know me.” Mary smiled gently. Pnme of the sweetness of that old-fashioned flower I garden whs wafted to Kenneth’s imagi- | nation again. The two girls faced each other. The boyhood sweetheart—the ! girl he might have loved, except that I tin* son of Mrs. Charles Nelson, leader | of society, could not marry his mother’s social secretary, was smiling tvith gen tle kindness on Kitty Claire And the girl whose evil spell, like a fog from the .•<a, had hidden shoals and rocks from the eyes of that same boy, was staring hack at Mary with insolent hardness, j Kenneth had a queer little vision of a | thin alley cat, eyes aflame, back up, I spitting and snarling and scratching ;it th< little child who was stooping with friendly hand to smooth ruffled fur. He I dashed his hand across his eyes -what ;i fool he was, thought he—seeing gar-/ dqns and fogs and cats and smiling chil-