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@ A Lesson Worth the While---Speak Little and Well if You Care To Be Esteemed as a Real M ?I_ n_of Merit
' D) ,
+ThE GEORGIANS MAGAZINE PAGRE——
Romance! Thrilll Action in
The Heart of
- Wetona :-
Tony Wells Asks if the Young Wife Is Certain of Har
, din’s Non-Appearance.
Novelized from the Frohiuan-Be
lasco production of George Scarbor
ough's play, now running at the Ly
ceum Ttheater, New York. Copyright,
1916, International News Service.
By ANNE LISLE.
“NAWUI Nauma! Nauma!
Look! See! He come! He
come!” she cried suddenly,
for even an Indian maid feels the need
of someone in whom to confide her joy,
And a second later Nauma was receiv
ing the lttle kitten (an unnecessary
third In Wetona's love duet) and was
striding away joyfully decked out in
A string of vivid beads Tony had
brought as a present to her,
Mr. Wells never undervalued the
importance of having a friend a court,
And Nauma, though ugly and old and
stoopéhouldered, was to be propi
tiated after the manner of all women
~~aither by being told she was beau
#itul or by being presented with the
wherewithal to make herself beautiful
in her own eyes! '“Now! Oh, 1 am
#0 glad to see you, Tony! Mr. John
Ssay you come soon!”
A Complacent Smile. |
They were alone—they were to have
ten minutes together, Wetona had
mever looked sweeter or more alluring
than she did now, in her simple house
gown of blue—but a sudden apprehen
wlon seized Tony. “He said I would?
He doesn’t know that I'm the one—-7""
In that moment it almost occurred
to Mr. Wells o suspect Mr. Hardin
and suspect him of diabolical clever.
ness. But Wetona set him right about
that directly by explaining that when
#he had told the man who had married
her of her confidence that her own
man would come soon he had sald she
was right,
Tony smiled complacently, There
was no doubt of it. He had Hardin's
measure. “Didn’t think he was string
ing me a while ago—"
“You talked to him? You tell him
i you™ cried the girl, eagerly.
*Told him nothing—but we had a
alce little talk—-"
*He say make yourself at home.”
Wetona smiled shyly.
Tony smiled and held out his arm.
“Thanks, come over here and 1 will.”
~Some little instinct of finesse made
Wetona feel a peculiar embarrass
ment. “l doan' think he mean that
way."”
Tony was ready with the rough
masterfulness which had always
served him well, and he caught Weto.
A In his arms and kissed her soft
red lips.
“Mebbe’l ought not to kiss you at all
~~but when | see you there )\xh now 1
Xiss you before 1 think—l! doan’' be
lleve I kiss you 'nother time. Mebbe
it not right for Wetona to kiss you
Nere—in his house "
~ The girl made an effort to explain,
10 analyze herself. She was not In
the habit of doing that; she was too
simple—too primitve. But something
‘Bad forced her to think—to question,
A 8 she had never before questioned.
And she was trying desperately to ex-
Blain herself to Tony,
He wanted neither philosophy nor
moralizing from Wetona—what he
Wanted was very different and he
E”.l to have it. So now he brushed
Ber scruples aside lightly.
. "Oh, well, if you feel that way about
N-—step out In the yard in the moon
* 11l be like old times.” \
% etona evaded him. She was far
100 loving to eriticise his lack of sym
é&w of understanding with her
" Ehe loved him, and if he
_—_-——
ITCHING RINGWORN
ALL OVER FACE
Spreading. So Bad Could Not
HEALED BY CUTICURA
SOAP AND OINTMENT
T
B it Pl
S
was very likely to accept his. The
girl was a strange mixture of sim
plicity and native coquetry and deep
emotion. Tony Wells had waked the
“sleeping princess,” and so inevitably
she turned to him: “No. I no come
in yard. 1 blow you kiss! There!
Wetona look at you, 'That joy enough
for her!"
Not Enough for Him.
It was decidedly not joy enough for
the man, however. The sound of
music was wafted through the open
window. Over at Fort B§ll thgre was
dancing and gayety and the strain of
a waltz was beating on the air. But
Tony heard it only subconsciously,
He was afraid that John Hardin
might not be such an utter idiot as he
seemed. Destiny may have no mes
sengers—but premonitions come to all
of us at times, and Tony was vaguely
uneasy, though he hardly knew why.
“You're certain Hardin doesn't sus
pect me?” he asked as last.
“We doan’ talk about it,” replied
Wetona earnestly. “Oh, Tony, I so
anxious—l so afraid something hap
pen to you-that people know-—why
you not write me a letter or come be
fore?"
“Couldn’t take any chances with a
man like Hardin,” replied Tony,
gravely. ‘““That dance at the Post
gave me an excuse for coming to
town today-—why, they're danqnl
now. We ought to be there”
~ He came closer. The music, and
‘the air, and the delicate perfume of
the girl's presence were beginning to
have their way with him. “It's a
wonderful night for music and dane
ing and love,” sald he.
Wetona, too, heard the waltz, They
had played it the night she first met
Tony Wells. She wondered If he re
membered. Wetona did not know that
the very danger a man like Tony
Wells has for women, is that he does
remember. Men who have a big In
terest in life forget—but the profes
‘sional love-maker, the man who lives
by the light he kindles in loving eyes
~~he remembers; that is his business.
“My, but you're a little beauty!”
sald Tony suddenly, leaning toward
her,
But Wetona's very natvete made her
safe for the moment. “Yes, Wetona
very pretty when she happy.”
~ In real simplicity a strong man
finds always a certaln wistful quality
which makes him want to protect a
woman even from himself.
He Thinks He Means It.
“You're perfection,” ecried Tony
Wells. “Listen! You remember that
‘waltz? They played it the night we
met at the Post"”
. He 414 remember! He loved her
in much as she loved him. SuAdenly
everything was right with Wetona's
‘world. No longer any question for
her- just Tony and love. She rose,
and swaying to the music darted to
ward him. He caught her in his arms
and went on with the woolng which
set every note in Wetona's nature vi
brating.
“Ah, dear, the very Instant | saw
you, even before I knew whether you
were an Indian princess or a Spanish
senorita. T turned every other girl's
picture to the wall. Yes, and when
my arms went around you a little
later in that first waltz 1 knew that
the Great Spirit had written our
names together in the Big Book be
yond the stars. I love you-—there's
nobody else in the world——*
And with Wetona there close in his
arma, warm and sweet and trembdiing
At his embrace, Tony thought he
meant it
“If you love some other woman 1!
think I sealp you. * * & ,Apnt 1
only play.” For Tony was helding
her very close and memory stirred
within her—~memory to hold her to
him even as his arms were pressing
her against his heart now. She could
hear its rapid pulsing beat. She was
happy and her voloe thrilled softly in
response to the demand he was mak-
Ing her: “Ah--it's sweet to listen to
my man's love words again *
(Te Be Continued Tomorrow.)
! Do You Know— I
In Asia tvory tusks are only possessed
by male m:‘ S
The youngest general in the British
army s M-l.bt. .
The human body is subject to some
2,400 disorders.
Beeking Perfection.
A famous lady viclinist is & firm be-
Hever in constant practics, no matter
where she happens 10 be located. She
Was once staying in the summer at &
country place. Every morning she went
through her customary axercises. Bvery
morning & boy smployed about the place
passed her open window and heard her
%‘%}Eh?a’
maote
:Ne passed the open windew shout
Can't yo play it ynr
Shells as Things of Beauty
Some of the Uses to Which They Have Been Put. |
Part of a Shell Basket Made by the Indians of Lower California.
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B LT MO 7 R N 57974 R LI b et s e e
By GARRETT P. SERVISS. |
EAUTIFUL shells were among
B the first objects of adornment
for his person and his dwelling
that were used by man, and their
forms and colors furnished some of
his earliest lessons in esthetic educa
tion,
Shells were also one of the first
Kinds of money. For the American
Indians wampum beads made from
shells took the place of gold. The
ornamental uses of shells, as Mr. L.
P. Gratacap shows in the American
Museum Journal, are u‘cufloul as
they are numerous. The most strik
ing in appearance are the imitations
of flowers, although qm appeals to a
very primitive taste. It is the in
genuity of the combinations and the
surprise felt that two such essentially
different natural objects can be made
to resemble each other, that afford the
pleasure given by thg sight of a bas
ket, or garland, of shell-flowers.
Petals, stamens, pistils, leaves,
stems, are all imitated in shell forms,
while in color tints and biendings it
is questionable whether some shells
are not superior to flowers. In the
property of iridescence the finer shells
certainly possess an advantage over
any vegetable substance. Pearls are
a kind of shelf, formed within shells,
and they have always been regarded
as the most queenly of gems.
The Central American Indlans have
long been famous for their skill \n‘
making she!l flowers, and some ex
quisite specimens of their work are to
be seen In the museum in Central
Park West. Baskets and flowers are
Facts About the Famous
LFRED CAPPER in his “Remi-
A niscences” tells the following
about Mr. Knight-Bruce, Bish
op of Mashonaland. He had been
preaching on the famous text which
bids us to turn the other cheek to
him who has smitten us.
“During the following week he met
& bullying Boer farmer, who grossly
insulted him, and then smacked n'm
on the face. ‘Now,' cried he to the
Bishop, ‘turn the other cheek and I'l
y 5 Kl
Im'm:: g s
caught him an awful crack on that
side of his face alsg. Then homnodl
to go away,
““Wait a minute,’ quietly remarked
the little Bishop, taking off his coat
Fictionless Fable
HERE was once a man whose
T boast was, “1 want what | want
when 1 want it*
He was always very sure of what
he wanted—and equally sure that in
the changing course of human nature
he might not want it long and so had
best go after it while it meant some
thing to him.
When he arrived at the age of 32
his life was marked by a series of
milestonss that meant little desires
accomplished and little points gained.
But thers had been so many littie sat
isfactions in his life that he had had
no time for big ones.
lloluuvcm‘mmutho
lunch hour and then sat down to din
ner with added sest of starved hours
to whet his appetite.
Suddenly when he was 132 liife
brought before him two things he
wanted. One was the love of a beau
tiful young girl and the other one a
position of great Importance. To
have both these things at once was
almost Impossible. At last the man
was faced by the need of making a
cholce.
The girl he loved had an endless
array of sultors, and to win her meant
the need of conquering them. The
position he craved had a long lst of
applicants and 1o win it meant ab
&muhflvofl
The man sat down for 24 bours and
B 7
F[k S 5
E Qfii;,
‘3,” ,&,wfix. 4
| B e i
R
» 4 p
(e 73 4
; ‘%bé-’»’ £
Shell basket made by the
Indians of Central Ameriea,
formed of small white oval
shells; flowers are made of
thin and shallow, white and
rose-tinted shells, and both
basket and flowers are con
strueted with fine wire. In
the American Museum.
alike composed of white and delicate
ly tipted shells, held in ghape by fine
wires. Flower taskets made of shells
by the Indians of Lower California,
although very striking in appearance,
are ranked belcw the Central Ameri
can products, because glue instead of
invisible wiring is employed to hold
the work together.
A truly magnificent object is a palr
of bonbon dishes, belonging to Mrs.
¥. A. Constable, and loaned to the
museum, which are formed of abalone
e
us he spoke and hanging it up on the
bough of a neighboring tree, ‘“There,
now, that's the Bishop, he's done his
duty; here's Knight-Bruce in his shirt
sleeves; come on.'
Half an hour later they took the
Boer home on a.vb.ool.b.rfov.
J. Pierpont Morgan, the millionalre,
tells a good story about his father, the
founder of the family's gigantic for
tune. The late Anancier was one day
showing a friend his magnificent dog
kennels, when suddenly the vis'tor
stupped to admire a particularly fine
polinter,
“That's a beautiful dog!'"” he ex.
claimed. “What do you call him?
e ————
considered the matter so earnestly
that he entirely neglected to eat or
sleep. Here was the girl he loved so
well that he feit sure he would go on
loving her through long years of hap
py marriage If only he dared take
time to win her.
Here, un the other hand, was the
position that would crown his career
with success. He looked back over
his life and saw how he had filled it
full of trifies. He had had a few suo
cesses In business and so was not
either a fallure or an unimportant
beginner.
He had had a few merry little imi
tation love affairs, and so his life was
not empty of brightness and color,
He had always had what he wanted
and he had never wanted anything
big before.
At last he decided that love was the
thing to crown his life. So he went
10 seek his sweetheart and found that
she had eloped with his partner the
day before.
Then he decided to console himself
by starting to work for the position he
craved. But when he went to
mummtmux:
had gotten It and was to assume
charge on his return from a week's
honeymoon.
. MORAL~Some people get what
‘my want--until they reslly want
shells supported by seahonrses, the lat
ter and the outside of the shells being
coated with silver. The nacreous
splendor of the inner side of the ab
alone shells, forming the interfor of
the dishes, is remarkably attractive.
But it is when shells are employed
not to imitate something else in na
ture, but for the sake of their own
beauty, that the most admirable or
namental effects are obtained with
them. This principle does not forbid
their use In the form of head
dresses, belts, pendants, etc.
Thus at the museum there may be
seen a life-size figure of a Tahitian
“fire-walker,” with his head encircled
with a garland of shells which have
not been disguised in the form of im
itation flowers. Primitive man in this
respect has really shown better taste
than civilized man, for among savage
tribes shells were not used imitative
-Iy, although they were often employed
as symbols.
The Fijlan chiefs wore the orange
cowry as a badge of office, and shells,
used simply as shells because they
were in themselves beautiful, have
been found among the personal
adornments of early man in all parts
of the world.
Another use of shells more truly
esthetic than their employment to
make imitation flowers is the adop
tion of their forms and their combi
nations of color as suggestions in thol
arts. Mr. Ruskin thought that he
could trace such suggestions, derived
lflfln the cockie shell, in some of the
ornamental features of Buropean ar
chitecture. A fine abalone shell might
afford to any artist fresh ideas in the
combination of color tints.
“Lord Rothschild,” answered I(r.l
Morgan. !
“Why on earth do you ecall him
that?” asked his friend, in surprise.
“That's easily explained,” replied
the millionaire. “It's because he never
loses a (») cont!". b ’
Queen Mary, in writing to her per
sonal friends, uses a small sheet of
note paper with Buckingham Palace
stamped in dark blue letters. Queen
Alexandra uses a much larger sheet,
addressed from Marlborough House.
But neither of their majesties has a
crown stamped on their private note
paper, as have almost all other Buro.
pean royalties.
M—_
N these days of uncertain weather
I the old signs relied upon by our
fathers are worth remembering.
tawmuhuohmtmtcb.
fairly rellable, and some of them can
be explained on a scientific basis:
Moonlight nights have the heaviest
frosts.
The higher the clouds the finer the
weather,
The farther the sight the nearer the
rain,
Dew is an indication of fine weath
er.
When stars flicker in a dark back
ground rain or snow follows soon.
ta wind with stormy
-m vhzm'moh.mcmm
hangs near the ground.
Here are a sow In verse:
Clear moon,
Frost soon.
Year of snow,
mtb‘:‘t‘:nm ’
Fine before sleven.
if the sun sets in gray
The next will be & rainy day.
When the wind's in the south
The rain's in its mouth,
The wind In the west
Sults everyone best.
If you see grass in January,
tockmunhhmrm.
Evening and morning gray,
ll.btholunlcrumm;
.“h:.'fl‘“mmmnl
Bring min upon his head.
When he clouds appear like rocks
m“flh"m by frequent
showers
Their Martied Life
(Copyright, 1916, International News
Service.)
6 HAT do you ‘think about
V‘/ Anne's marriage to Jack?”
' Heélen asked Frances as
the two sat in the tiny apartment
having tea together.
“I think it is just as well,” said
Frances, easily. From her manner no
one would have supposed that she
cared anything for Anne, but Helen
knew better. ‘
“You like Anne pretty well,” she
said, shrewdly.
“Now, whatever ade you think
that?” said Frances, snipping a thread
and smiling one of her brilliant
smiles.
“Well, to fell you the truth, because
you and she have managed to live so
amicably together.”
Frances looked up in surprise.
“Why, Helen, did you really think it
would be too much of an experi
ment?”
“I really did,” said Helen, laughing.
“You see, I know you so well, dear,
and T knew that Anne was quite op
posite from you in temperament, even
though she won't believe me.” ‘
“I should say she Is,” said Frances
quickly, “She’s a million times nicer.”
‘“Oh, no, she isn't,” denied Helen,
“but she isn’t quite so selfish.”
Frances only laughed. “Of course,
she i{sn't as selfish as T am. She's a
rea! dear, and, of course, I shall miss
her terribly. But I think it's better
for her to marry Jack. They are so
well suited, and she loves him much
more than she really belleves.”
“Then if you are going to miss her
s 0 much, why did you say that about
it being just as well?" said Helen
curiously.
“Well, T do think it will be better
for her. Besides, ] am beginning to
chafe under the domestic routine of
this establishment. I know that it's
sweet and homy, and quite as artistic
as it is necessary to have it, but }
just long for the old days sometimes
when I am in a particularly wild
mood. 1 long for the roominess of
the studio and my solitary loneliness,
and everything connected with the old
life.”
“Then why did you ever plan to live
with Anne?”
An Unselfish Idea.
“Because,” said Frances dryly, “1
am genuinely fond of her, I aldn't
like the idea of having her ltve just
anywhere while she was in New York
with no one to look after her, and 1
conceived the brilliant idea of making
a home for her.”
“Do you mean to say, Frances
Knowles,” said Helen in amazement,
“that you have taken this apartment
for no other reason than to make a
home for Anne?™
“It is hard to convince you, isn't
117" said Frances quietly.
Helen sat still in perfect silence.
After the talk that she had had with
Anne and her motherly advice about
not living with Frances Knowles. No
wonder the child adored her.
“No wonder Anne loves you as she
does,” Helen said aloud.
“Does she love me? queried Fran
ces, the soft material in her lap show
ing for a moment the tenseness of her
slim fingers.
“Does she? Why, she simply idols
izes you. She has you on a pedestal
a mile high”
“The dear,” sald Frances softly.
And then, with a return to her own
iight manner, “Well, it's nlce to
have some one care.”
“Frances Knowles,” said Helen se-
Verely, “you carry a pose about with
you continuall Why don't you let
people love you?”
“Because I don't want people to love
me. Most people bore me to tears
1 want the love and friendship of a
few people, but as for wholesale af
fection from the uninteresting prole
tariat, I don't want it, never have and
never shall”
“You would make an interesting
person in adebate with a soclalist,
wouldn't you™ sald Helen, laughing.
“Can’'t help it; that's the way 1|
feel”
“But, seriously, Frances” sald
i . T T—
The Coming Baby!
- Hooray! Hooray!
i Nothing else can so sompletely endear
[Us 1o the present and the future as the
r
expecied arrival of o
baby. But In the mean
i time the comfort of
‘ :bo mother s of wast
mportance. There v a
' splendid external rem.
' edy known as “Moth
er's Friend” which ex.
| erts & wonderful infly.
ence upon the expand, |
ing muscigs. ‘Pwy he
Come more pliant,
stretch without undue
.‘!n.“luo the period
| one leasant antic
| pation Luou of s>
prebension. In & series of splendid letters
from all over the country mothers toll of the
great halp ““Mother's Priend'’ was 10 then
Evea grandmothers to!l the wonderful story
0 their own doughters abdout 1o enter the
state of motherhood. Get & bottls of ** Moth !
or's Frieond'' today of your nearest drug
et Use this splendid Belp with your ows
{ud gnided by your own misd. For & fres |
bock of interest and importance to all meth
s write 0 Bradfield Regulster (o, 409
Lamar Bidg. Missta, 6ia. It relates the
persona! erperiences of many happy moth
e i el many things that » »ame ‘
ehould be Tamiliar with £ 80 oner »
Onide aad am inapiration. Write for this book,
A Narrative of Everyday Affairs
Helen after a moment’s lull in the
conversation, “hasn’t this apartment
interfered seriously with your work?
I remember now that you never could
work with people about.”
“Sometimes it has, and then I have
gone for a walk until I could properly
control my temper to the extent of
playing amicably, as you say, with
Anne and her friends. But Anne has
been dear and ,considerate always,
only so many people lpve her and that
means company at any time of the
day or night. Anne has the faculty
of making friends wherever she goes.”
“I know it. It's because of herready
sympathy.” .
Frances Is Well Pleased.
“Exactly. But as things are now
it's just as well for us to separate.
My mission is finished. Anne doesn’t
need me any longer, and I have the
knowledge that for once in my life
I have put another person’s inter
ests before my own.”
“What are you going to do after
Anne is married?”
“Well, Anus is going home to Kan
sas this summer. She has invited me
out, ar&l think I shall go for a little
while. We are going to give the apart
ment up as soon as she is ready to
leave, and T am going to scout around
for a place of my own, as near like
the old one as possible, and more con
venient. I can afford to pay more
now. Then I am going to buckle down
o real work.”
[_ Frances was beginning to be very
The Struggles of
8 a Wife @
By Virginia Terhune Van De
Water.
CHAPTER XXIV.
(Copyright, 1916, Star Company.)
S Horace Webb saw his wife's
A face in the restaurant window
above him, he started violently
and hesitated. Then, at a word from
the girl who was with him, he stood to
one side to let her pass out and fol
lowed her, the door slamming behind
him.
“When will you have it ready?”
The question was Perry Martin's
and Myra was aware that he was
watching her with a perplexed ex
pression. Evidently he had spoken
before and she had not heeded him.
“I—l—beg your pardon!” he ex
claimed in confusion, her cheeks
burning as she appreciated that he
had caught her off her guard. "I was
—I was—looking at some people down
there”—with a nod toward the street
“It is actually all that some of them
can do to walk against the wind. But
I must have seemed very inattentive
to what you were saying. Pray ex
cuse me! What did you ask me?”
Her confused manner did not es
cape her companion. What could have
caused it? he wondered. |
“My question,” he sald gravely, “was
as®o when you think you can let us
have that story?”
“Within a week or ten days,” she
replied.
~ “You will not offer it to anyone else
first, will you?" he demanded bluntly,
"Of course, I won't!” she exclaimed.
Did he fancy that sshe could be ca
pable of such double dealing? He
had behaved as if he understood that
she belonged to his class—and yet he
could ask her a question that seemed
almost a reflection upon her sense o
honor,
And all at once she remembered
that although this man and she had
been chatting here together at a
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= SUMNTAL SOTYEE coMPANY (SRR Yy
e e e ———————————————— B
Helen Finds a New Light in the s
M
Character of Her Friend Frances.
well known through her work in The
Scroll. She had written two serials
and her short stories were in de
mand. There was a quality about her
work that was distinctly different
from the general run of fiction. Helan
had envied her ability more than onoce
and the money that she made mo
eas!'-- Frances still retained her po
sition with the newspaper, but was
thinking seriously of giving it up.
“You see, Helen,” she sald in re
ply to a question, “T am busier than
ever this year. lam going to writs
a book.”
“Are you really, Frances?”
“Yes, why not? Avery Atwood tola
me long ago that it would be but a
matter of time before I would be at
tempting something of the kind. Ana
rnow I am anxious to begin Bvery
day I wait seems a lost opportunity.”
“And you can't begin till you have
the proper surroundings?”
Frances nodded. “Yes, I'm walting.
Foolish, isn't It 7”
Again Helen marveled. She was
being shown an entirely different gide
of the girl's character. Frances was
not always selfish. Hven the creps
de chine in her lap was something for
Anne’s trousseau. Again Helen won
dered if Frances was entirely happy,
if her feellng for Avery Atwood would
always be a closed chapter.
(Watch for the next incident in this
unique series; it will appear here
soon.)
luncheon at which she was his guest,
‘they had met for but one purpose—
‘that of business.
~ Myra Webb the woman was noth-
Ing to him; Myra Webb the writer
was worth his attention until he had
made sure that she would serve his
purpose. i
She glanced at her watch and rose.
“It is getting late,” she remarked. “I
must be going.”
“I thought,” Perry Martin was say
ing, still in a practical, businesslike
way, “that you might be hesitating to
promise us the story until you were
quite sure about the prl,o we would
pay. We will, of course, give what
we gave for ‘Bitter Waters'—if that is
entirely satisfactory.”
“We can settle that later, can't
we?” she ventured. “I do not know
yet how long the story may be; you
do not know whether it will suit you
or not*
Hohelpodhctwtonb-mtuu
escorted her as far as the foot of the
uptown elevated raflroad steps.
Here he raised his hat and bzde her
good afterndon.
Seated In the uptown train, Myra
tried to fix her thoughts on what had
‘happened. She strove to bring back
the thrill that she had feit when Mar
tin ad praised the plot of her story.
“If you write it as you have told 1"
—she whispered the words to herself,
but the emotion they had aroused did
not return. She did not even recall
how the speaker had looked when he
uttered them.
For uppermost In her mind was the
recollection of the expression of sur
prise in her husband's eyes as they
met hers and the presence of the
slender figure at his side.
(To Be Continued.)
Up to the Lender.
“Lend me $57"
“Here you are.”
“How can I repay you?
“That’s for you to figure out.”