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Woman Condemns a Slit Skirt We Always Wonder Mow She Would Look in One ®
Beauty and “the Green Monster”
Don't Be Jealous if You Want to Be Beautiful, Says Dorothy Jardotv
AT BAY l
A Thrilling Story of
Society Blackmailers
By MAUDE MILLER,
T HERE 1b a Ciri In New York who
It fo attractive that the attrac
tion of one particular feature
does not stand out, but Is merged Into
one alluring whole. Phe Is so won*
derful 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 is about her after you have had
time to somewhat collect your senses
you are nowhere nearer solving the
problem then you were before. Beauty
Is there, but you have perhaps seen
beautiful women before without her
strange attraction.
Thla Is exactly hew Miss Dorothy
Jardon, of the Winter Garden, Im
pressed roe, and when I asked her
what she did to bewitch people she
fold me that It was something she
would ltke to share with every one.
because It was In vry truth a beauty
secret that every one could use.
HUH BECHET.
“If I am attractive to people It Is
(Novelized by)
“You don’t want to prose-
Hol brook,
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-
f From the play by George Scar- j grilv. Couldn't the man see, he won-
borougl w l.< inK i".;sontwl at th. | , ier ed how *asy it all would be if |
l larngh»hoM »>r c ‘° n 1
1 rected to him. lie forgot that a sus
pect is often half proven a criminal, i
“The man under arrest is so near
International News Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“A letter of mine that I didn't want
people to sec 1 gave him $200 and
mother's < merald brooch. He wanted
more—he tried to take the letter
away from mo. 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
girl he loved tortured by memory and
the stern necessity for relieving her
agony.
“The gill struck blindly no pre-
i meditation—plain self-defense—but it
won’t get that far—we’ve destroyed j
| t he trail,” cried Holbrook in a cres
cendo of hope and trust.
“Choked you!” said the father, vis-
! sionlng those talons of evil on his
motherless girl’s throat.
“Yes,”
“Were you present?” asked Gnf-i
ham. wanting reason why Holbrook
could so vividly portray Aline’s tor
ture.
“With his hand on her throat? My
God. man—do ye think I'm a dead
fish'.’” cried the captain, in cold Yury
And added, with quiet venom. “He
was cold a half hour when I saw
him.”
“Your brooch?” questioned the
father, anxiously.
“Here it is—Captain Holbrook got
it for nie. . . . Tell him, please. ’
“I sneaked it otit 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
1 man was all pent up energy as he
fort • rj upon the father’® dazed cfln -
I sciousness the danger that menaced
i the girl they both loved. “Why, man
i —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 the girl to her father, in a tone
of sudden quiet resignation. ’’The de
ceit— the suspense- and y ou to trick
. the law for me — I'll bear what 1
! 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
j would save from saving her was there
I —she spoke of “Captain Holbrook" as
I one immeasurable distances away—
j and from her she felt he was in truth
measureless worlds apart—because of
i those “three days by a summer sett”—
j exact toll from her empty life,
those three days that seemed still to
“Did you know she meant to go
I there?" questioned the counselor of
Holbrook.
“You are getting me d—d mad—-
1 you are.*’ cried Holbrook with heat
i that matched his words.
“He must ask you questions. Lar-
! ry,” interposed Father Shannon pac-
I ideally.
’ “But would I let her do such a
; thing?"
“No!” said Father Shannon; but
| he does not know you as l do -and
the law r can’t take a man for granted
| like the church can.”
“Then why were you there?” went
Ion the interrogating law
”L went to thrash him—but you
can’t strike a dead man,” explained
1 Captain Holbrook categorically.
“Why thrash him?”
“Oh, I told you that last night,”
I,
because I have gained personality
through not being Jealous. Jealousy 1
self to colds. Every jealous fit over
women. 1 have never seen anything I weakening,
like the way that they Allow it to j acterlstica.
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
• way prey# upon the whole nervous
system. And when the nerves are
all unstrung, the digestive system
comes in for a general upsetting. The
stomach Is affected, the appetite goes,
and the energy that should, he ex
pended upon the arcs and problems
of everyday life is absolutely given
over to the green eyed monster. So
much for this part of beauty's un
doing.
And as for facial char-
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. \N ateh 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
and laugh at her behind her
Miss Dorothy Jardon.
jealousy is constantly exposing her t 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 ho we must all fight against
i this jealousy, which is a universal
failing. Some of us succumb to it
easily, some only for real cause, and
I some, not at all, for it affects every
I one differently. But fight against it
we must. If we wish to establish a
beauty^ record of any kind among
* American w omen '*
Advice to the Lovelorn
Bv BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
The Tiniest 1 ^cture
YOU ARE TOO YOUNG.
nEAR Miss FAIRFAX
\ am eighteen years old. and
am working for a firm with excel
lent prospects. Two months ago I
met a young girl by chance, and
elnoe I have seen her everv night
] wouVd give my right arm to please
her. Do you think T ought to ask
her parent® If 1 can give her a ring?
My salary is $514 per week. Do yon
think that I am too young, or Is the
salary too small? ANXIOUS
salary is not too email; T am
>ud of you that one as young
much Rut you are too
THAT SHOULD NOT WORRY YOU
DEAR MISS FAIRFAX
I atn seventeen and am con
sidered very good looking
My three chums all have gentle
men friends; but. while I am con
sidered the best looking of the four,
none of the yonng men has ever
asked ms to go to any place of
amusement with him or call at my
home A. A.
I I Is a fact,
when you 1
orn, and the
recovered it after having
sion of it for more than
Having lost track of the j
picture, which he made in 1869. when
he was only 19 years old. S -hulls de
cided recently to try to recover it.
He advertised in several foreign i
newspapers, with the result that the
tiny landscape came to him in its
original frame a few days ago, the j
painting, in color and line, being as i
sharp and clear as on the day of its ;
execution.
The particular grain of corn used I
came from an ear that Mr. Schultz [
as a lad picked on the estate of
James Buchanan, fifteenth President j
of the United States, at Wheatland. ;
Pa. He had gone there to attend the
*x-President's funeral, and plucked !
the ear of corn as a souvenir. As I
for the picture itself. ;• well known 1
artist, who saw it man;, years ago. !
declared it w as a masterpiece of j
ttiulat jjre painting. i
roe years, and then you will
lie memory of what you now
which yon will admit
look aaound von. that
the girl who receives the least pro
miscuous attention from the men. and
regards Rich attention as of the least
importance, makes tne best marriage.
Just remember this and be happy,
ai.d watt.
Up -to- the- M mute jokes
ryraan: “I
igious sort c
n try man: 'No,
liglous folk,
m Sundays.’'
letter
h that
dunno;
thing.”
t can’t
It says.
six wet**^ in front w„ the whuskey.
At a recent duel the parties dis-
chrrged 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: "I thought you said that the
man was a musician?"
Joax: “Nonsense! "
“You certainly told me he wrote
melodies.”
"1 told you he was a composer of
i heirs. He sells soothing syrup.”
impatiently the Irishman replied to
all this "flubdub” of the law that
could go a-laeerating 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 <t 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 th*n the soldier took command
of the poet and Captain Holbrook fin
ished Larry’s little flight in this wise.
“For tlie 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 kicl^
up a dust!”
Graham seized upon one idea
"Tins Department of Justice." He
went to the telephone and called. “28
Main."
“Are you going to tell?” 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 ii. her eyes And so they
stood facing each other while the man
at the telephone continued on his
course.
The Father Fre.
“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: "1 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 entirelv 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
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, j
Well, thank you.” He 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 mesetf."
More Revelations.
"I may seem ungrateful, Captain
Holbrook, for the service and dovo- !
tion you’ve shown Aline since this
man Flagg was killed—but i can't
forgive you for persuading her into a
secret marriage- nor Father Shannon
for performing it,” said the father in
mingled feelings toward this man j
who had, as he saw it. harmed and
now determined to save Alirve.
“pori’t, daddy—don't!” cried Aline, j
“Don’t sir—you surely don’t w’ant— :
to tilt at windmills—now."
“Your marriage to Aline!" cried the
father in the stern 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 td
Father Shannon.
“A secret marriage—yes.” assented
Father Shannon.
“Before J knew’ Captain Holbrook.”
confessed the girl in torture that it
seemed would never end.
“The lawyer telephoned about it
las’ night. And so she (vent—to w hat
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
had seen it all. * * * ”
She fumbled in the bosom of her
gown—and again offered that decep
tively delicate-looking pink missive.
This time it was taken.
“Here it is—don’t—read—it—out
loud.”
“May I go. sir?" asked Holbrook, j
“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— ;
’tis not indifference—dear child—’tis j
just that you will best be alone with j
your father.”
“You’d best call my trainer.” said
Holbrook, in kindly determination
that the situation should savor as lit- •
tie as possible of the tragic.
"Are ye there. Donnell?” he called
from the doorway.
”1 am,” floated back a voice.
“He is ” announced the Captain, j
with a smile of assurance—and then j
he and the priest were gone. Aline
\\ns alone with her father!
The girl sat like a criminal in'the 1
docket—waiting the sentence—and It j
was her father who must say her
doom now, as perhaps another judge
would pronounce it later.
The Letter Again.
The man 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 1
then he stood in silence regarding it. ;
His little Aline! So she had drunk j
a bitter draft from the cup of knowl- j
edge—she was a woman, and knew 1
her woman’s heritage. His baby—was !
a woman! To a. man his daughter is
sadly often a child—w’hen childhood’s j
innocence has been torn from her by ,
pikering hands that do not know that
when the rosebud becomes a rose, it !
is warm sun and gentle rain that I
make “the golden heart unclose’—j
and that the tearing blast that will \
not wait for Nature s grow th only j
destroys.
At last Graham asked a question in
quiet tones. “When did this happen, j
Alice ?’’
“When T was at school in George
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
place?”
“Atlantic City,” came her muffled
answer.
And still the calm, judicial cross-
examination.
“Where was 1?”
“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?' ”
“I 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 vou know his name?"
“No."
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“Did he look like a minister?”
A little gleam of self-justification
came into the girl’s eye? 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
ras? 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 T 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- j
Honed the District Attorney.
"I don’t know. He came back to
Washington with me. I went back to
school. • • • Oh. must 1 "
"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 that 0 ”
“He wen: away. 1 was still at
school.”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
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