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A Lesson Worth the While---Speak Little a.nde@LMMEWM__Mfl___W
‘ ; .
THE GEORGIANS MAGAZINE PAGE—
-Itiomance! Thrill! Action in
The Heart of 5
| o Wetond o
Tony Wells Asks if the Young Wife Is Certain of Har
din’s Non-Appearance. -
e .
Novelized from the Frohisan-Be
lasco production of George Scarbor
ocugh's play, now running at the Ly
ceum cheater, New York., Copyright,
1916, International News Service,
By ANNE LISLE.
“NAUMU! Nauma! Nauma!
Look! See! He come! He
come!” she cried suddenly,
for even an Indlan maid feels the need
of someone in whbm to confide her joy,
And a second later Nauma was receiv
ing the little 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
stoop-shouldered, was to be propl
tiated after the manner of alJl womeh
—eitßer Dy being told she was beau
tiful or by being presented with the
wherewithal to make herself beautiful
in her own eyes! “Now! Oh, I am
S 0 glad to see you, Tony! Mr. John
say you come soon!”
A Complacent Smile.
They were alone—they were to have
ten minutes together, Wetona had
never looked sweeter or more alluring
than she did now, in her simple house
gown of blue—but a sudden apprehen
sion seized Tony. “He said I would?
He doesn’t know that I'm the one——-'
In that moment it almost occurred
to Mr. Wells to suspect Mr. Hardin
and suspect him of dinbolica]’clevero
ness. But Wetona set him right about
that directly by explaining that when
she had told the man who had married
her of her confidence that her own
fan would come soon hie had said she
was right.
Tony smiled complagently. 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
it you?” cried the girl, eagerly.
~ “Told him nothing—but we had a
nice little talk-——"
“He say make yourself at home.”
Wetona smiled £hyly. ‘
' 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. “I doan’ think he mean that
way.” £
Tony was ready with the rough
‘masterfulness whieh had always
served him well, and he caught Weto.
nu In his arms and kissed her soft
red lips,
' “Mebbe I ought not te kiss you at all
~but when 1 see you there just now 1
kiss you beforg 1 think—l doan’ be
lieve I kiss you.'nother time. Mebbe
it not right for Wetona to kiss you
here—in his house.”
- The girl made an effort to explain,
1o analyze herself. She was not in
the habit of doing that; she was too
simple—too primitve. But something
‘had forced her to think—to question,
‘aß she had never before questioned.
‘And she was trying desperately to ex
plain herself to Tony. ;
~ He wanted neither philosophy nor
‘morajzing from Wetona—what he
"g'jhlmd was very different and he
meant to have it. So now he brushed
Ber scruples aside lightly. ’
~ “Oh, well, if you feel that way about
fi» out in the yard in the moon
-1 It be like old times.”
too loving to criticise his lack of gym
pathy or of understanding mfiuf
attitude. She loved and he
‘would net accept muv-fivm she
Kept Spreading. So Bad Cowid Not
SleepatNight, Itched and Burned.
Ashamed to Go Anywhere, ‘
HEALED BY CUTICURA
SOAPAND OINTMENT
“Ringworm first began on my face and
spread to my neck and It got almost all
over my face. 1t first came out in one lttle
bump and kept spreading,
LOND, 2nd 1t got s 0 bad I could not
5 ] eep at pight. The ring:
worms were large and as
B thick as they could be and
the skin was red and In
@ flamed. They fehed and
ey o ey e B
" * face by soratoding. | was
sshamed 0 go anywhers
T A friend asked me to try Cuticura
B R a S o T
M?i wan hm?.*lllub ilnp Sallie
Harwood, Rvensville, Teon., July 16, 1915,
Sample Each Free by Mall
With 32. p. Skin Book on request. Ad-
Aress postonrd “Cutienrn, Dept. T, Bos
‘ Sold throughout the worid. |
was very likely to accept his. The
girl was a strange mixture of sim
plicity and native coquetry and deep
emoticn., Tony Weills 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
musie was wafted through the open
window.« Over at Fort Sill there 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
geemed. 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 at last.
“We doan’ talk abeut it,” replied
Wetona earnestly. “Oh, Tony, 1 so
anxious—l so afraid something hap
ipfin to vou--that peoupls know-—why
you not write me a letter or come be
}iore?"
“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'™ dancing
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
wonderfal night for music and danc
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 Qid 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 naivets made her
safe for the moment. “Yes, Wetona
very pretty whem she happy.”
In real simplicity a strong man
finds always g certain wistful guality
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 did remember! He loved her
as much as she loved him. Suddenly
everything was right with Wetona's
world. No longer any question for
her—just Tony and love. She rese,
and swaying to the music darted to
ward him. He eaught her in his arms
and went on with the wooing which
set every note In Wetona's nature vi
brating. . |
“Ah, dear, the very instant 1 saw
you, even before I Rnew whether you
were an Indian princess o a Spanish
senorita. 1 turned every other girl's
picture so the wall. Yes, and when
my arms went around you a little
later in that first waltz I Xnetv that
the Great Spirit had written our
names together inh the Big Book be
yond the stars, 1 love you--there's
nobody else in the world——*
And with Wetona there close in his
arms, warm and sweet and trembling
at his embrace, Tony thotight he
meant it
“If you love some other woman 1
think I scalp you. * * * An 1
only play.” Fer Tony was holding
her very close and memery stirred
within her—~memory to held 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 voice thrilled softly in
response to the demand he was mak.
ing her: “Ah—it's mweet to ifsten to
my man's love words again.”
——
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)
{ Do You Know— i
In Asie tvory fusks are only possessed
by male Olcphln:-. .
The youngest general in the British
army is !Nmm.tn‘ £
The human body is subject to some
2,400 disorders.
Seeking Perfection.
A famous lady vmu&x & firm be
liever in constant prac 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 exertises. Every
morning a boy employed about the place
passed ler open window and heard her
working away at something whwh& in
loe course of n few days, he learned to
identify, When he heard her playl
1t cverz’ morning for more than & w:g
he could no longer contain ngnlf
:hor-n the open window he shout
“HE Can't ye play it yut '
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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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 ope of the first
kinds of money. For the American
Indians wampum beads made from
shells took the place of gold. The
ornamental usés of vhells. 25 Mr. L.
P. Gratacap shows in the American
Museum Journal, are as curious as
they are numerous. The most strik
ing in appearance are the imitations
of flowers, although this appeals to a
very primitive taste. It is the in
genuity of the combinationd and the
surprise felt that two such essentially
different natural objects can he made
to resemble each other, that afford the
pleasure given by the 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 blendings it
is questionable whether some shells
are not superior to flowers, In the
property of itidescence the finer shells
certainly possess an advantage over
any vegetable substance. Pearls are
a kind of shell, formed within shel's,
and they have always been regarded
as the most queenly of gems.
The Central American Indians have
long beén famous for their skill in
making she'l flowers, and some ex
quisite spechmens 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
niscences” tells the following
about Mr. Knight-Bruce, BRish
op of Mashonaland. e had been
preaching on the famous text which
bids us to turn the other cheek to
hiln who has smitten us. s
“During the following week he met
4 bullying Boer farmer, who grossly
insulted him, and then smacked nim
on the face. ‘Now,” cried he to the
Bishop, ‘turn the other cheek and I'll
smack that, too.” The Bishop meexly
did as he was told, and the Boer
caught him an awful crack on that
slde of his face alsQq. Then he turned
t 0 g 0 away.
“‘Wait a minute,’ quietly remarked
the little Bighop, taking off his coat
(00t ettentetts ot
E@ctionlfiemsmsmf able
HERE was once a man whose
T boast was, “I 1 want what I want
when I want it
' He was always very sure of what
he wanted—and equally sure that in
the changing course of huq\an 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
milestones that meant little desires
accomplished and little points gained.
But there had been so many little sat
isfactions In his life that he had had
no time for blg ones.
1!0 had never gone hungry at the
lunch hour and then sat down to din
ner with added zest of starved hours
to whet his appetite.
Suddenly when he was 32 Ilise
brought beforg 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 suitors, and to win her meant
the need of conquering them. The
position he craved had a long list of
applicants and to win it meant ab
sorption in hard work.
The man sat down for 24 hours and
s iy §
; B, il el 3
i Wt L% o
| g | A LA
| B . ~%f:? by &
o b “é‘«,‘ Vg ,"‘“ i 1&&‘3. }
i 4 . RN
| L eet
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’!s R g
| 4 AN i
b el X ;.,3- ‘
2
B L e A 2l
Shell basket made by the
Indians of Central America,
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
structed with fine wire. In
the American Museum.
r—————————
| alilke composed of white and delicate-
I'-" tinted shells, held in shape by fine
3 wires, Flower Laskets made, of shells
|by the Indians of Lower California,
trllthmu:h very striking in appearance,
|are ranked belew the Central Ameri
{r:m products, because glue instead of
invisible wiring is employed to hold
the work together.
AMruly magnificent object is a pair
of bonbon dishes, belonging to Mrs.
¥ M Constable, and loaned to the
museum, which are formed of abalone
B A e e e
W
as hie spoke and hanging it up on the
ibouxh of a neighboring tree. ‘There,
now, that's the Bishod, he’'s done his
‘duty; here’s Knight-Bruce in his shirt
sleeves; come on.'
Half an hour later théy took the
Boer home on s.wh.e‘ol.barrow.
J. Pierpont Morgan, the milllonaire,
tells a good story about his father, the
founder of the family's gigantic for
tune. The late financier was one day
showing a friend his magnificent dog
kennels, when suddenly the visnor'
stopped to admire a particularly fine
poinier,
“That's a beautiful dog!” he exe
claimed. “What do you call him?”
considered the matter so earnestly
that he entirely neglected to eat or
sicep. Here was the girl he loved so
well that he felt sure he would go on
loving her through long years of hap
py marriage if only he dared take
time to win her.
Here, on 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 trifles. He had had a few suc
cesses in’ business and so was not
either a fallure or an unimportant
beginner, "
« He had had a few merry little imi
tatjon 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 un]
thing to crown his life. 8o he went
to seek his sweetheart and found that
she had eloped with his partner the:
day before, 5 1
Then he decided to console himself
by starting to work for the position hql
craved. But when he went to make
application he found that his urtmt'
had gotten it and was to assume
Charge on his return from a week's
honeymoon.
MORAL~~Bome people get what
they want—until they really want
something! <
shells supported by seahotses, the lat
ter and the outiside of the shells being
coated with silver. The nacreous
splendor of the inner gide of the ab
alone shells, forming the interior of
the dishes, is remarkably attractive.
But it is when shells are employed
not to imitate something else in ha
ture, but for the sake of their own
beauty, that the most admirable or
namental effects are obtained with
them. This principle does not forbia
their use in the form of head
dresses, belts, pendants, ete. ”
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 hava
;Aot. been disgulsed in the form of im
itation flowers. Primitive man in this
respeeé has really shown better taste
than civilized man, for among savage
tribes shells were not used imitative
-Iy, although they were often employed
as symbpols.,
*The Fijian 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
esthetle than their employment to
make imitation flowers is the adop
tion of their forms and their combi
nations of eolow suggestions in the
arts. Mr. Ruskin thought that he
could trace such nu{muonu. derived
lrrom the t:locmo shell, in some of the
ornamen features of Buropean ars
chitecture. A fine abalone shall might
afford to any artist fresh ideas in fho
combinfition of color tints,
“Lord Rothschild,” answerea Mr.
Morgan.
“Why on earth do you call him
that?” asked his friend, in surprise.
“That's easily explained,” replied
the millionaire. “It's because he never
loses a (8) cent!”
L .-
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,
| addbessed 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
E Weather by Si;m ;
N these days of uncertain weather
the old signs relied upon by our
fathers are worth remembering.
Experience has -hogm. them to be
fairly reliable, and sbme of them can
be explained on a scientifie 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 backe
ground raia or snow follows soon.
t A st wind with stormy
*m whoamo from chimneys
hangs near the ground.
Here are a few in verse:
Clear moon,
Frost soon.
Year of snow,
Frmt will grow.
Rain before seven, : |
Fine before wleven,
It the sun sets in gray
The next will be a rminy 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 l:n. January,
Lock your n your granary,
Evening nfimfl morning gray,-
Halp the traveler on his WAY
Bvening gray and morning red
bring down rain upon his head
When the clouds appear like rocks
and towers .
The earth's refreshed by frequent
showers,
- Their Married Life
(Copyright, 1916, Interm.tioflal Neys
oy Service.) | -
‘¢ HAT do you think about
- W Anne's marriage to Jack?”
e Heleh asked Francey as
the two sat in t& tiny apartment
having tea togéther,
“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 Anneé pretty well” she
said, shrewdly. - °
“Now, whataver ade you think
that?” saia Frances, snipping a thread
and sMliling one of her brilliant
R
ell, to tell you the truth, because
you and she have managed to live so
amieably together.” 4
Frances looked .up jin surptrise.
“Why, Helen, did you really think it
would be too much of an experi
ment?” ’
© "I really did,” said Helen, laughing.
“You see, 1 know you so well, dear,
and I knew that Anne was quite op
posite from you in temperament, even
though she won't believe me.”
“T 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 isn't as seifish as I am. She's a
real! 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 balieves.”
“Then if you aro' going to miss her
£0 much, why did you say that about
it being just as welli?” said Helen
curiously.
“Well, T do think it wil be better
for her. Besides, I am heginning 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, bt 3
just long Tor the old days sometimes
when I am in a particularly wild
mood. I long for the Poominess of
the studio and my solitary loneliness,
and everything connected with the old
life.,”
. “Then why did you éver plan to live
With Anne?” 5
| An Unselfish Idea.
“Because,” said Frances dryly, *1
am genuinely fond of her. I dian't
iike the idea of having her llve just
anywhere while she was in New York
with ne. one to look after her, and I
concelvéd the brilliant idea of making
a home for her.”
“Do you mean teo say, Frances
Knowles,” said Helen in amazement,
“that you have taken this apartment
sos no other reason than to make a
home for Annet” .
“It is hard to c¢onvince you, isn't
it?” sald Prances 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 ghe love me?” queried Fran
ces, the soft materlal in her lap show
ing for a moment the tenseness of her
slim fingers, :
“Does she? Why, she simply idol
izes you. Bhe has you on a pedestal
a mile high.”
"“The dear,” said Rrances softly.
And thén, with a return to her own
light menner, “Well, it's nice to
have some one care.”
“Frances Knowles,” said Helen se
verely, “you carry a pose about with
you continually. Why don't you let
people love you?”
“Because I don’t want people to love
me. Mokt people boré me to tears
I want the love and friendship of a
few people, but as for wholesale af
féction from the uninteresting prole
tariat, I don't want it, never have ana
never shall”
“You would make an interesting
person Tn adebate with a soclalist,
wouldn't you?” said Helen, laughing.
“Can't help it; that's the way 1
~ “But, seriously, Frances,” . said
The Coming Baby!
e ing y
Hooray! Hooray!
Nothing else ean so completely endear
|US to the present and the fumr? as the
| (3 —— expected arrival of o
Iy baby. But in the mean-
I 1 B J time the comfort of
d 0) the mother Is of wast
L] K Im'pomn«-. There ls n
2 splendid external rem.
L— r] edy known as “Moth
— h er's Friend" which ex.
erts & wonderful Infly.
) ] = ence upon the expand.
o ing muscles, They be
. [l come more pliant,
L— f 2 4 streteh without undue
J WPRE Pain, make the period
v g one of pleasant antio
ipation f...ma of ap
prehension. In o series of splendid letters
from all ovér the eountry mothers toll of the
great help ‘‘Mother's Priend'' was 16 them
Even grandmothers tell the wonderful story
to their own daunghiors about to enter the
state of motherhood, Get a bottle of ' Moth
er's Friend'' today of your nearest drug
gist Use this splendid Relp with your ows
hand guided by your own mind For a free
book of interest and importance 15 all motk
ers Write to Bradficld Reguinte 3 400
Lamar Blag Atlanta, Ga It rélates the
personal experisnees of many RApPyY WMo
&rs, 1t telly many things that all womer
should he familineg with ' it Is M ones &
Suide and as inspiration. Write for this bouk
A Narrative of Everyday Affairs
Helen after a moment’s lull in the
conversation, “hasn't this apartment
interfered sériously with your work?
1 remember now that you never could
work with people about.”
“Sometimes it has, and then 1 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 love her and that
means company at any time of the
day or night. Anne has thgl faculty
of making friends wherever.she goes.”
“I know it. It's because of her ready
sympathy.” 5
s Frances Is Well Pleased.
“Exactly. But as things are now
ft's just as wéell 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
1 have put another person’s inter
ests before my own.”
“What are you going to do after
Anne is married?” ”
“Well, Anne is going home to Kan
sag this summer. She h4s inyited me
out, and I think I shall ;o for a little
while. We are going to give the*apart
ment up as soon as she is ready to
leave, and I am going to scout around
for a place of my own, as near like
the old one as possible, and more con
veniént. 1 can afford to pay rasore
now. Then I am going to byckle down
to real work.”
Frances was beginning to be ve-y
The Struggles. of
8 a Wile ¢
By Virginia Terhune Van De
Water,
" CHAPTER XXIV.
(Copyright, 19186, 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 ?”
Thé question was Perry Mnrtm’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-f—~beg your pardon!” he ex
claimed in confusicn, her cheeks
burning as she appreciatéd that he
had caught her off her guard. “I was
1 was—lookifg at some peopls down
there”—with a nod toward the street
“It is actyally 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
’ouu 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 said gravely, “was
a 8 to when you think you can let us
have that story?” .
“Within 2 week or ten days,” she
replied. . |
“You will not offer it to anyone else
first, will you?” he démanded bluntly.i
“Of course, I won't!” she exclaimed.
Dld he fancy that she ®ould be ca-‘
pable of such double dealing? He
had behaved as if Le understood that
she belonged to his class—and vet he
could ask her a question that seemed
Almost a reflection upon her sense of
honor, i
And all at once she remembered
that although this man and she had
been chatting here ‘together at a
e
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= Flavor — strength = purity 4 wholesomeness makes :‘
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— Put up in one and three pound sealed tins - whole, ‘;,
= ; ground (steel cut) or pulverized. A-k‘nur grocer, :':‘%:
_———x——————aay |
Helen Finds a New Light in the |
Ng S it
Character of Her Friend Frances.
. l 1
well known through her work in Th.
Scroll. She had written two seria -
and her shert stories were in d«
mand. There was a quality about L«
work that was distinctly differe
from the general run of fiction. Heie
had envied her ability more than onc:
and the money that she made so
easgi’- Frances still retained her po
sition with the newspaper, but wa
thinking seriously of giving it up.
- “Xou see, Helen,” she said in re
ply to a question, “I ant busier than
ever this year. I am going to writ:
a book.”
“Are you really, Frances?”
‘“Yes, why not? Avery Atwood told
me long ago that it would be but a
matter of time before I would be at
tempting something of the kind. And
row I am anxioQis to begin. Every
day 1 wait seems a lost opportunity. "
“And you can’t begin till you have
the proper surréundings?’
Frances nodded. “Yes, I'm waiting,
Foolish, {sn't it?” :
Again Helen marveled. She was
being shown an entirely different side
of the girl’s character. Frances was
not always selfish. Even. the crepe
de chine in her lap was something for
Anne’s trousseau. Again Helen wqn
dered if Frances was entirely happy
{f her feeling 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 twas noth
ing to him; Myra Webb the writer
was worth his attention until he had
made sure that she would serve his
purpose. , .
* She glanced at her watch and rose.
“It is getting late.” she memarked. “I
must be going.”
~ “I thought,” Perry Martin was say
ing, still in a practical, businessliks
way, “that you might begresitating to
promise us the story until you were
quite sure about the price we would
bay. 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 thé story may be; you
do not know whether it will suit you
or ndf"
Hg‘helpod her put on her coat and
escorted her as far as the foot of the
uptown olovaug railroad steps.
Here he raised his hat and bade her
good afternoon. ;
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 felt when Mar
tin ad praised the plot of her story.
“If you write 1t as you have told it”
~~she whispered the words to hersel,
but the emotion they haa 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. :
“Lénd me $57”
* “Here you are.”
“How can I repay you?”
“That's for you to figure out.”