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# 4 Or* © ^ When a Woman Condemns a Slit Sl^irt We Always Wonder How She Would Loot^ m One ® J n l M - Oil Beauty and “the Great Monster” t Be Jealous if You Want to Be Beautiful, Says Dorothy Jardon. By MAUDE MILLER. iikrk Is a girl In New York who is ao attractive that the attrae- * t on of one particular feature ■ - not aland out, but la merited Into ■ ■ alluring whole. She la so won ful that with her first appearance on the stage a current of electricity runs like Are through the audience And when you ask yourself what there W» about her after you have had time to somewhat collect your sensei you are nowhere nearer solving the j problem then you were before. Beauty Is there, but you have perhaps seen j beautiful women before without her strange attraction. This is exactly how Miss Dorothy Jardon, of the Winter Garden, 1m- preaaed rue, and when 1 naked her whet she did to bewitch # people she told me that It was something she would like to ehare with every one, because It was in very truth a beauty secret that every one could u»e. IIKR SRCRBT. "If I am attractive to people It Is AT BAY A Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers s Two Striking Offerings ,-e EXPERTLY DESCRIBED BY OLIVETTE ee cause 1 have gatneo personality through not being Jealous. Jealousy is the bug-bear of the American women I have never seen anything like the way that they allow it to play upon their nerves and perhaps to bring a storm of tears in Its wake. Tears wash away more than a heart ache, so don’t Indulge if you want to fight off Father Time. ‘ In the first place. Jealousy lodged ! In the human breast and allowed full eway preys upon thr; whole nervous j system. And when the nerves are | all unstrung, the digestive system cornea in for a general upsetting The stomach la affected, the appetite goes, and the energy that should be ex pended upon the cares and problems of everyday life is absolutely given over to the green-eyed monster. So much for this pa*i of beauty's un doing (.l\ rcs llRR < OLDS. "A woman w ho Is subject to tlta of Miss Dorothy Jardon. jealousy Is constantly exposing her self to colds. Every Jealous At over heats the blood and Is therefore very weakening And as for facial char acteristics Watch the jealous woman and read her trouble in her eyes, which are cold, hard and rest less. not tender and alluring as a woman's eyes should be Watch the expression of her mouth and the de cided lines In her face and ask your self if she can be. attractive to any one Her women friends know her falling a«A laugh at her behind her back because she lets It dominate her And as for being attractive to men. she has made this forever im possible. A woman must appeal to a man through another woman, or not at all! "And so we must all fight against this jealousy, which is a universal failing. Some of us succumb to it easily, some only for real cause, and some, not at all, for It afreets every one differently. But fight against it we must. If we wish to establish a beauty record of any kind among American women ’* The Tiniest Picture Advice to the Lovelorn By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. M R. SAM IT ML SCHULTZ, who has a scenic and mural paint- ip- studio at Wilmington, in l)o!.i w-a re. ' ‘H won, despite a lifetime *>; * i in painting subjects in heroic - the unique distinction of hav- smallest landscape world. was executed on a and the painter has nniy now recovered tt after having >>t possession of it for more than forty years. Having lost track of the picture, which he made in 1869. when he was only 19 years old. Schultz, de- . ided recently to try to recover it. He advertised in several foreign newspapers, with the result that the mac ting P tl turo corn, YOU ARE TOO YOUNG. nKAR MISS FAIRFAX I am eighteen years old. and am working for a firm with excel lent prospects Two months ago l met h young girl by chance, and • ince I have seen her ever> night. 1 would give mv right arm t > please her. Do you think 1 ought to ask her parents If 1 can give her n ring? My salary is $24 per week. Do you think that 1 am too young, or Is the salary too small? ANXIOUS. fOUR salary Is not too email; l am proud of you that one so young much. But you are too THAT SHOULD NOT WORRY YOU DEAR MISS FAIRFAX: 1 am seventeen and am con sidered very good looking My three chums all have gentle men friends; but, while T am con sidered the best looking of the four, none of the yvung men has ever asked me to go to any place of amusement with him or call at my home. A A. \ r earns so young. Walt three years, and then you will smile at the memory of what you now call love. U a fact, which you will admit when you look around you, that the girl who receives the least pro miscuous attention from the men. and regards such attention aa of the least importance, makes tne best marriage. Just remember this and be happy, and wait. From th« > I Georg* Scar borough now being presented at ihs Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York. ted by International News Service.) TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. "A letter of mine that 1 didn't want people to see I gave him $200 and mother's emerald brooch. He wanted more—he tried to' take the letter away from me. He was choking me. daddy—with his hand on my throat.” ! The words were wrung from a soul in agony- and Lawrence Holbrook, sol dier. must stand helpless and see the Kiri he loved tortured by memory and the stern necessity for relieving her • agony, "The girl struck blindly—no pre- I meditation—plain self-defense—but B ■ won’t get that far we’ve destroyed | ihe trail.” cried Holbrook in a cres- | ■ endo of hope and trust. “Choked you!” said the father, vis- , sioning those talons of evil on his j motherless gill’s throat. "Yes.” “Were you present?” asked Gra ham. wanting reason why Holbrook could so vividly portray Aline’s tor- i t lire. “With his hand on her throat? My | God, mm—do ye think I in a dead fish?” cried the captain, in cokl fury j And added, with quiet venom. "He was told a half hour when I saw' him.” "Your brooch?” questioned the father, anxiously. “Here it is Captain Holbrook got it for me. . Tell him, please.” "I sneaked It out of his left fist. There’s no clew whatever. Don’t waste time thrashing old straw’. The thing now is an ALIBI for her.” The i man was all pent up energy as he j forced upon the father’s dazed eon- j sciousness the danger that menaced | the girl they both loved. “Why, man —you’ve got to swear she was here all the time—all the time, mind ye!” Why Holbrook Went. “I’m willing to give myself up,” j said tiie girl to her father, in a tone of sudden quiet resignation. "The de- ( eit—the suspense—and you to trick the law for me—I’ll bear what I must ” “No—no ” thundered the captain in a tone of Jove-like command. “Suspicion mustn’t fall on Captain Holbrook—he mustn’t be . . She seemed to forget that the man she would gave from saving her was there —she spoke of “Captain Holbrook” as one immeasurable distances away— and from her she felt he was in truth measureless worlds apart—because of those “three days by a summer sea”— exact toll from her empty life, those three days that seemed still to “Did you know she meant to go there?” questioned the counselor of Holbrook. “You are getting me d—d mad— you are." cried Holbrook with heat that matched his words. “He must ask you questions, Lar ry,” interposed Father Shannon pac ifically. “But would I let her do such a thing?” "No!” said Father Shannon; “but he does not know’ you as I do—and tiie law can’t take a man for granted like the church can.” “Then why were you there?” went on the interrogating law. “I went to thrash him—but you can’t strike a dead man,” explained Captain Holbrook categorically. “Why thrash him?” “Oh, I told you that last night.” impatiently the Irishman replied to all this “flUbdub'* of the law that could go a-lacerating the woman he loved, though the questioner were her father. “That stuff in the paper. Mr. Gra ham.” explained the churchman, to whom patience was a virtue beyond ! question or cavil. And then the Irishman let himself go. All the imaginative mysticism | of his race claimed him for a mo- : ment. “A rose on the floor—her perfume in the air -when the blessed halo of a girl you love makes you tremble in every nerve of your body, it’s quick as a stroke of lightning when it hits your nostrils again. Why, the whole room shouted Aline at me!” And then the soldier took command of the poet and Captain Holbrook fin ished Larry’s little flight in this wise. “For the love of heaven, Mr. Gra ham. quit tryin’ me and start protect ing her. Get those policeman out of your house—throw a scare into them —you’ve got a wonderful pull with the Department of Justice ” whereat the Irishman twinkled out of Larry’s eyes even while the captain was all serious business. “Sic the detectives onto me. Call me names or kick me out of the house, or something like that, and I'll swear at you—and call you an ignoramus—anything to kick up a dust!” Graham seized upon one idea. ‘ Tii® Department of Justice." He went to the telephone and called. ”28 Main.” Are you going to tfll?” quavered Aline. "Of course he isn't. He’s startin’ in to work for you at last.” Holbrook assured her with calmness. She turned to him—fathomless depths in her eyes. And so they stood facing each other while the man at the telephone continued on his course. The Father Fre. Holbrook. “You don’t want to prose cute me!” “I want to work on the other side.” said Graham, after allowing himself one still, long glance at the eager captain. * Say ME!” said that individual an grily. Couldn’t the man see. he won- dered how easy it all would bo if the suspicion were just strongly di rected to him. He forgot that a sus pect is often half proven a criminal. “The man under arrest is so near me in a certain way ” began Gra ham in an uncertain way. That's the stuff!” and Holbrook fairly pranced in glee. That I don’t want to prosecute I may even want to defend him! Yes. I want to be relieved immediately. | Well, thank you.” lie hung up the phone. * Thank you, Captain. This terrible news is so sudden that I can’t even think.” “Of course, you can’t, poor man. I’ve been goin’ round it all night, and I'm fuzzy meself.” More Revelations. “T may seem ungrateful. Captain Holbrook, for the service and devo tion you’ve shown Aline since this man Fkigg was killed—but l can’t forgive you for persuading her into a j secret marriage- nor Father Shannon : for performing it.” said the father In mingled feelings toward this man who had, as he saw it, harmed and now determined to save Aline “Don’t., daddy—don't!” cried Aline. 1 “Don’t sir—you surely don’t want— to tilt at windmills—now’.” “Your marriage to Aline!” cried the father in the stem tone of one who is sure he is not “tilting at windmills.” "HASN’T OCCURRED!” “You said she had confessed.” cried Graham, turning in bewilderment to Father Shannon. “A secret marriage—yes." assented Father Shannon. “Before I knew Captain Holbrook.” confessed the girl in torture that it seemed would never end. "The lawyer telephoned about it las*, night. And so she went—to what was waiting her.” meditated the priest. “Flagg had a letter—I didn't want even you to see it, daddy. Then ' * * * I went—to get it * * * you know the rest almost as if—you V- Up-to-the-Mmute Jokes landscape came to him in its original frame a few days ago, the painting, in color and line, being as sharp and clear as on the day of its execution. The particular grain of corn used I came from an car that Mr. Schultz belong t hs a lad picked James Buchanan. of the United States, at Wheatland, Pa. He had gone there to attend the ex-President's funeral, and plucked the ear of corn as a souvenir. As for the picture itself, a well known artist, who saw it many years ago, masterpiece of First Countryman (seeing a letter box for the first timei; "What's that for. Tom ?” Sec nd Countryman "J dunno: looks like a religious sort o’ thing ” First Countryman: "No, it can’t religious folk. It Fays. on the estate of ‘No collections on Sundays.’ fifteenth President • * * j Doctor—I 1 I instructions three times a you are following my fully. Sandy—the pills I Sandy—“Week s j bit behind wi’ the i six w eeks in front may be a s. bpt I'm the whuske. At a recent duel the parties dis charged their pistols without effect whereupon one of the seconds inter posed and proposed that the com batants should shake hands To this the other second objected as unneces sary. “Their hands said he. have been shaking for half an hour." Hoax: ! thought you said that the man was a musician?” Joax: 'Nonsense!" "You certainly told me he wrote itu lodics " "I told you he was a composer of | heirs. He sells soothing syrup.” “The Attorney General there?” ask ed Graham. “My foolishness lost the night,” groaned Holbrook. "Gordon Graham, District Attor ney,” went on the conversation over the wire “Well, is the first assistant in put him on the line, please." Holbrook came forward to make eager protest: "l don't believe in as sistant officials.” Graham went on: "Hello—yes—Gen eral this is Gordon Graham-‘-attor ney for the district. You read of the death of Judson Flagg last night. Yes—case is coming into my office, and d like to be relieved from work on it.” Slowly a light kindled and flushed its way over Aline’s lined white face. Her father was her friend after all! "Relieved entirely—1 don’t want to handle any part of it because—well, I can’t tell you over the phone.” 'Yes you can—say me!" prompted had seen it all. She fumbled in the bosom of her gown—and again offered that decep- | lively delicate-looking pink, missive. This time it was taken. “Here it is—don’t—read—it—out loud.” “May I go. sir?” asked Holbrook. “I’Ll wait in the hall.” “Ah, don't let him go,” cried the girl to the priest. “Yes—my dear—and I’ll go. too— 'tl:' not indifference—dear child—’tis just that you will best be alone with your father." "You’d best call my trainer.” said Hclbrook, in kindly determination j that the situation should savor as lit- ! tie ns possible of the tragic. “Are ye there, Donnell?” he called! from the doorway. "1 am,” floated back a voice. “He is.” announced the Captain. | with n smile of assurance—and then he and the priest were gone. Aline ’.ia« alone with her father! The girl sat like a criminal in the docket—waiting the sentence—and it was her father who must say her doom now, as perhaps another judge would pronounce it later. The Letter Again. The mon read the little pink letter that told all of the girl’s stolen love j —and the days of dreaming by a summer sea—and the dreary awaken ing with its plea, "You can't leave me now—Tom.” He read it—and then he stood In silence regarding it. His little Aline! So she had drunk a hitter draft from the cup of knowl edge—-she was a,._woman, and knew her woman’s heritage. His baby—was a woman! To a man his daughter is sadly often a child—when childhood's Innocence has been torn from her by pikering hands that do not kiow that when the rosebud becomes a rose, it is warm sun and gentle rain that make "the golden heart unclose’— and that the tearing blast that will not wait for Nature's growth, only destroys. At last Graham asked a question in quiet tones. "When did this happen, Alire?” "When I was at school in lleorge- town—the last Easter vacation there.” "Who knew of It?” "Only Hattie.” There was a pause. In a minute of time six years took their grim toll of father and daughter. "There three days at the sea—what piece?" "Atlantic City,” came her muffled answer. And still the calm, judicial cross- examination. “Where was I?” “In Virginia. Grandpa was ill— you’d gone to see him.” Graham looked again at that pink missive. “Why do you say here— ’mock marriage?" “His letter called it that—only a mock marriage." "Where his ‘his letter?’" 1 burned it—that was six years ago ” cried the girl, lifting her head with a stricken look marring her eyes to the semblance of death itself. "Who performed this marriage?” "A man in Baltimore—a minister, I thought.” "Do you know his name?" “No." "Did he look like a minister?” A little gleam of self-justification came into the girl’s eyes at that. "Yes—clothes—his face, too—he seemed a good man." “Where was it—this ceremony?" "In his house—nice enough place." "Do you know where the house v.as? Could you find it?” Aline shook her head hopelessly. She could not see where this grilling —this third degree of which she had often heard—was to lead them. ■ We went there in a carriage. Don’t think I even heard the address. Then we drove right to the station. Hattie came home. He and I—went—to At lantic City.” "Where is this man now?" ques tioned the District Attorney. • I don't know. He came hack to Washington with me. I went back to school. * * * Oh, must I ” "Three days." said Graham, grimly. He seemed unaware of her breaking nerves. He did not see that self- control was fast leaving her. Three days—and after tha!?" "He went away. 1 was still school.’’ A FTERNOON gown of azure taffeta is shown on the left. The surplice blouse 1b edged with turquoise velvet, and has a small Medici collar of the velvet. The arm-holes are low, and the tiny sleeve is edged with chinchilla, as is the tunic of plaited taffeta. Four circular flounces trimmed in taffeta buttons fall below 7 the tunic. The line of flounces and of tunic is cutaway. The bottom of the skirt opens over a petticoat flounce of turquoise chiffon. The home dressmaker will find it possible to copy this dress at small cost by the substitution of cheaper materials for the taffeta and chinchilla. An inexpensive fur may be used—or black velvet ribbon in a two-inch width will be found very effective; and for the taffeta may be substituted an inexpensive silk—or even albatross or cloth of a light weight. The wonderful French model on the right Is de veloped in rose velvet, fur and tulle—thfr favorite implements of the smart dressmaker of the Winter. The left side of the bodice is made of draped tulle, veiled by a deep collar of'sfrass. The right side Is of velvet, with a broad kimono sleeve edged in skunk. A band of this same fur forms the belt In froDt and falls on either side in the rounded lines of a basque. A knot of the tulle is caught at the left hip by strass beads. The skirt drapes into some fullness, and ends in a pointed train. At the line of the hips it is doubled under itself and falls in a tunic line from t draping.—OLIVETTE. Do You Know That— The same species of flower never shows more than two of the three colors, red, yellow, and blue. 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