Evening Star Newspaper, June 17, 1923, Page 78

Jerome's Heart Went Through a Series of Violent Gymnastics, While Alison Found the Whole Incident So Exciting WO of the three important things in life had already happened to Jerome Kenyon. He had been born, and he had just been married. Aside from these Vital eplsodes, nothing mnoteworthy had occurred until he was leaving the church with his bride. Not many minutes later his bride left him with the passionate declaration that the hoped never to look upon his face again! This happened in front ¢ the Grand Gentral station. The quarrel, flaring up like @ lighted match tossed on & heap of -unconfined explosive, left Jerome mo choice but to withdraw hastily from the danger zone. He was fully convinced that the confla- gration would be short-lived and that on his return from checking the 1ug- gage he would find his bride amen- able to argument But in this he was mistaken, for he did not find her at all. It was not the first of such quar- reis. The cause had always been the aame. Some would have called it Alison’s temperamental nature: others might have called it merely Alison’s bad temper. Like many optimistic lover feit great confidence in the power of the marital state to correct these pas- wionate indulgencies. He argued to himself that the conditions of en- gagement were in themselves most trying to a volatile temperament jerome Now, in & singular state of nno.} Jerome went back to the baggage room, barely in time to save his lug- guge and Alison's from being put aboard the train. He sent effects to her father's house in Gramercy Park and had his own put in a taxi. Turning the ridiculous situation in his mind, Jerome was astonished to discover a curlous sense of relief There had been too many such quar- rels, each abstracting its tribute o tenderness from an emotion which had been cooling through some weeks. Jerome did not know just what the solution might be for such a situa- tion. but he had @ vague idea that there was a legal remedy known as an annulment which bore about the same relation to divorce as did & be- trohal to a wedding. He stepped into the taxi and told the driver to go to the MecAlpin An the vehicle became tne §th avenue procession, leaned back and tried to compose mind. But at this moment he ca sight of & young woman who than an hour before had offered him subdued congratulations At the church ft had heen a quiet and this young lady walking home for luncheon a part of Jerome his £ht Tess noon wedding, was no doubt ¢6QTOP a moment.” said Jerome to the driver, and as the taxi drew up to the curb, he stepped out “Don’t faint, Sylvia,” said he *in and ride downtown with me “But—but—" “Butt into the taxi.” “There has been the mass——" Sylvia oheved in a state of trance, then turned and looked at him in dis- may. ‘Oh. dea “Get said Jerome most said she. “T did hope you two could manage to gelL away without a fight “We haven't, though.” "l suppose that at Alison is on her way annulment.” “What happened?" “Listen and be judge.” said Jerome. “As we were about to start away from the church. a messenger Jerome. moment for an said this to apply my boy stepped up to the car and handed | excused myself to Alison and opened it. There were a few brief lines and a telegram. I glanced at both and shoved them into my pocket.” “Without showing "Yes." “She asked to see it?" She demanded to see it. told her that it was a business com- munication which I would rather not discuss at the moment.” “What a beautiful start!” murmured Sylvia. “Knowing Alison, 1 can re- construct the rest. Did vou end by showing her the note?" “No. If I had, I would not be here this moment. Moreover, I am not all sure but what T would rather bo here in this taxi with vou.” “T think you had better let me out.’ sald Sylvla. “An annulment is better than a divorce with alimony and a former sweetheart named as co- respondent. You could not afford the alimony and 1 could not afford the scandal. But first tell me what was tn the note?” “Not until you tell me yvour de- cision. What would you have done?" Slyvia pondered for moment. Jerome watched her anxious He had once got nearly as far with Sylvia as he had with Alison, but cir- cumstances had interfered. Looking now at her pretty profile and thoughtful gray eyes with their long black lashes, he wondered that he had let them interfere. Poverty social position which each felt under obligation to maintain had been the principal factor. Then came the geo- graphical separation of the Atlantic ocean, and then—Alison Sylvia took a deep breath she answered slowly, “if 1'd gone as far as Alison, I'd have seen it through. T'd have carried on it had been bigamy.” “Why?" The color flooded her face. “Oh— for a lot of reasons. But T don't think I'd have stopped to weigh them just at that particular moment. What Alison did is rather like playing a roulette bet. then snatching it away after the cropler has said “Rien ne va plus.” Jerome gave a sigh of relief. cisely my idea.” sald he. “Just what did you sa asked. “I said that 1 would show her the note and telegram when the proper time came.” “Was that the end of it “That was the end of everything. She implied that 1 was holding some- thing back until it would be too late for her to retrieve her mistake. Her ma a note. I them to Alison?" 2t at a “Well,” “Pre- Sylvia final words on reaching the station | were that she wished she might never see my faca again.' uneasi “Well, * ok kK SYL\'!A Jerry,” she said, “now that I've moved given my decision, show me the note mnd let me out. Can't vou realize what will happen to me if some friend discovers uys riding down 5th gswanye together at this particular Alison's | awful and a | it | | moment in a taxi heaped with lug-) | gage?” | | 1l right.” said Jerome. “I'll show You the note as soon as you answer | one more question! “Will you marry me as soon as Alison gets the mar- | riage annulled?" | Sylvia crowded back even in her corner. “Yes,” she murmured. loved anybody but you. Jerry. Jerome bent toward her. “What it this telegram warns me to leave the | | country, and quick? What if it tells| | vou that I'm the bigamist vou just | | suggested, Remember that I've been | tour years abroad.” Sylvia looked at him with dancing eves and a smile on her red lips. “Well, Jerry. if you've got two already. one more wife won't make | the sentence any heavier. Besides, there’s luck in odd numbers.” | “There's luck in vou!" said Jerome, | and picked up the speaking tube. “Go to Hobhoken," he ordered. The driver nodded. Sylvia looked surprised. “Why Hoboken?' she asked. ‘Just to go across the ferry.” =i Jerome. "1 want room to kiss vou, and if T don't get it pretty quick, I'll | burst.” ! | “You must have been awfully in love with Alison, Jerry.” “Well, I'm not now. Heavens, what escape! What & time we have had! And I've got a would inevitably have come He took Sylvia's | | farther 9 never 'i i 4 id a close ! would hunch it to this in the end” hand and raised it to his lips. Then | suddenly his face whitened. “What | it she shouldn’t annul the marriage! he exclaimed | Sylvia gave him a steady look. | “Then vou'll be the one that would have to carry on, Jerry, and all of this will have to be scrapped with | | the rest of the might-have-beens.” Jerome's face darkened. He picked | up the tube again. “Draw up to the | curb.” he said | “You're right. Sylvia. I'll set you down here. But remember, I've your | promise.” | “I'm not apt to forget it. Jerry but it doesn’t matter. You're not going to escape as easily that. | Alison has had a change of heart by | this time, and her father will take & hand.” The taxi slowed and stopped on a side street, where the sidewalk was' littered with bales and boxes, Jerome opened the door. “How about the note?’ he asked 9ylvia stepped out. then turned and looked at him with a smile on her | quivering lip=. and eves which | sparkled through a sudden gush of | te You can show me that the day after we're married—if that day ever saild whe: whercupon she stumbled over re- heree!f and PR EROME hung up the receiver the telephone and #tood for & mo- He was displeased at the nature of the message just received: “Mr. Arnold would like to see Mr. Kenvon at his office between ten and eleven.” Jerome had telephoned his father- in-law that he would be at the Mc- Alpin for the next two days. and the | message just received was the answer | to this information ! An hour later Jerome imself at the law offic of Arnold, Thoron & Maltby, where. to his fur- ther annovance, he was requested to wait for nearly three-quarters of an bour in the reception room. Then a rather supercilious young person | ushered him into Mr. Arnold's pri- vate office. The lawyer., a big man with a rather pompous and at this| moment aggressive manner, looked | up with a frown as Jerome was| ushered in. Jerome bowed slightly and stood at attention. | “Well, young man,” said Mr. Arnold | in a heavy bass, “what {s vour ver- sion of this silly business?’ v‘ “1 haven't any, sir.” “Then what {s your excuse?" “1 have no excuse, sir.” Mr. Arnold's trown deepened. “Then {1 understand that I am to form my opinion entirely from what my daugh- ter tells me?" “Why not?" asked Jerome. “You surely don’t suspect her of not having |tola the truth?” | “Onh, come, Jerome< said Mr. Ar- nold. abandoning his magisterial air. | | “I know, of course, that Alison Is quick-tempered and impulsive, but you could scarcely expect any woman not to insist on learning the contents lof a message handed to her husband |as she was leaving the church just | after the ceremony.” | “I told her she might see it a little |later,” Jerome answered. “T safd that it was a business matter which I would explain at the proper time. She was not satisfied with this and | intimated that it might be something | to interfere with our mew relations, | and she insisted on knowing what it was before it became, as she ex- pressed it, ‘too late. " | “In which I think she was quite | within her right, said Mr. Arnold. “Very well, sir,”” Jerome answered. |“In that case there seems nothing | more to be said.” The blood surged into the lawyer's face. “There is a great deal more to |be said, young man. You persuade | my daughter to marry you, which she does—not, T may say, entirely with my approval. While your con- nections may be good, we know ac- tually very little about you beyond the fact that you are said to be an architect of some promise and have a good record. Your earnings are small, while the expectations of my daughter are considerable. Believing the attachment between you to be sincere, 1 have been willing to waive other considerations. And then just as you are leaving. the church, you receive a mysterious communi- | cation. the nature of which you re- fuse to divulge until. to use my daughter's own expression. which 1! find_explicit, ‘it may be too late’ " | “Quite so, sir,” Jerome answered. But there is one point which you appear to overlook. Your daughter told me that she hoped never to see my face again.” Mr. Arnold made a gesture of im- patience. “An exasperated woman is apt to say anything.” he stated, and for the first time during the inter- view unconsciously scored. “If you had not taken her so literally, she would have returned to you, and yo would have gone aboard the train and presently made up the quarrel. and | all of the unpleasantness been | avaided.” H J | comes.” turned covered J ment in thought, crate, moved aAwWay . presented | ok ok % EROME could not help but feel that there was a good deal of truth THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. OLDEN SILENCE C, JUNE 17, | good | that she 1923—PART 5. a sudden change of tone and manner, “don’t vou think, yourself, that you might have been a little more for- bearing?” Jerome felt his resolution giving way. He had counted on the lawyer's anger, but now suddenly he saw his own position in a different light. The | thought of Sylvia struck him with a frighting pang, it was a pang of renun- ciation. He moistened his dry lips. does Alison feel about it now, he asked. “She regrets it answered Mr. Ar- nold. “She has authorized me to s is sorry for her hastiness, and would prefer that the whole In- cident be stricken ou Jerome's heart sank. “Then am T to understand, sir,” he asked in a strained voice, “that she wishes to go ahead as if nothing had occurred “How sir?” | to interfere with our plans.” “Such is her desire” said Mr. Ar- nold. “And ghe does not insist on know- ing the contents of the message 1 received?” “No. But 1 think unless there's RBome particular reason for your not doing o, it would be much better to clear up the cause of the misunder- anding.” . “And you don't Insist on knowing yourself?” Jerome demanded, a deal as one sinking into a quicksand might try to extricate him- gelf by shifting his welght to the other foot Mr. Arnold observed the pallor which spread over the features of the young man “If this message {8 purely of a busi- ness character,” said he, “I really think that you owe it to me to be it | guided by my greater experience. But JEROME HAD ONCE GOT NEARLY AS FAR WITH SYLVIA AS HE HAD WITH ALLISON, BUT CIR- Aligon for better or for worse, then at the first disagreement had left her | without the least attempt to smooth | the difficulty Mr. Arnold saw his hesitation and was quick to take advantage of it. | The lawyer was astute, or he would | CUMSTANCES HAD INTERFERED. 1 not have occupied his prominent po- His own will had clashed fre- quently with that of Alison. whose hasty and had up to this time interfered seri- ously with other desirable prospects of marriage. He believed her to have sition |been in the wrong, and he felt not | the slightest doubt that if Jerome | had received any news which might intemperate conclusions | have proved detrimental to his newly | tickets.” wedded wife, he would have told her immediately of its character. “Come, now, my boy.” said he, with if it i3 a personal matter which may have to do with a previous love affair, 1 am quite content to leave it to your own judgment and sense of honor." “I told Alison, just as I told vou a few moments ago, that it was a busi- ness matter,” said Jerome wearlly. “I find my future prospects to be much altered within the last forty- eight hours. 1 this until after mon the wedding cere- Mr. Arnold did some swift thinking. | This statement surprised him consid- because Jerome had told him frank asking Alison’s hand In marriage. that aside from a few thousand dollars which he had saved, and a small legacy which he might expect to inherit some day from an unele, he had nothing to offer but his profession and his small but sufficient earnings as the junior partner in a firm of rising architects. fore appeared to Mr. Arnold that either some unfortunate investment must have swept away his savings, or that for some reason he might have forfeited his position with the firm. But he was now given no time to weigh the problem for Jerome turned to him and asked with a certain grimness: “Then Alizon wishe: incident as closed, sir’ “Yes" answered the lawyer. is waiting to learn the result of my erably on to consider the interview with you; so if you feel jus- | tified, you have only to call for her with your luggage and carry out your original plans. 1 can send a clerk to secure the reservations and mect you at the station with the “Very well, sir,” sald Jerome. ° doubt we have both been too hasty 1¢ you will kindly telephone to Alison, Some Words Regarding the Servant Problem O THE EDITOR: Am in receipt of & letter from one of my ad- mires who makes the squawk that some of my articles don't mean nothing to him as they refer to topics which he don’t know nothing about like for inst. my articles in| regards to bridge whist and etc. and | will I please write a article once in a while on gen. topic which is familiar %o everybody so as he can understand what [ am talking about | such as mah jong or duck pins or the care and feeding of cel 1 Unluckly the undersigned must con- | fess ignorance of the topics named | some YPTLTTH BY RING have got this problem solved provided the U. S. don’t pass no law baring ail Japs from this country as at the pres- ent rate which our Japs quits and new ones takes their place, why it is only a matter of 3 or 4 more wks. before all the Japs that was in America when we begun hiring Japs will of spent from a hr. to 3 or 4 days in the em- ploy of the undersigned. tut I don’'t want to frighten nobody off from hiring Japs with the state- ment that they only make short calls {n your home because what is the dif- ference how soon they walk out on vou as long as you can fiil their place “THE MRS. SAYS MR. L—R DON'T CARE FOR NO ICE CREAM, CAKE OR CHOCOLATE YAMAS, BUT YOU CAN FETCH HIM IN A BOTTLE OF BEER.” 1any other readers would be inter- | ested in a few wds. regarding the servant problem which must be a | subject of gen. interest as no matter where You go you hear it disgusted | by men and women of both sexes young and old, married and eingle, jbut maybe my correspondent and |in 5 or 10 minutes by phoning to the agency and telling them you are just out of Japs. * k % ¥ URTHER and more they seems to be a rumor in the air to the effect that Jappers is high price in the mat- in this. He had promised to take| Well friends it looks to me ilke-we'ter of wages but this don’t mean LARDNER nothing neither because the most of them disappears in the night with you still owing them 2 or 3 days' pay besides which nobody should ought to mind a $1.00 to $2.00 per month extra when it means that you ain't only getting good but also making o many new acquaintances to say mothing about enjoying a life| which 1s just one supprise after an- | other. | Like for i . one of my children, or kiddles as I am learning to call| them, was having & birthday party | and 1 got home from a hard days| work with a niblick just when the re- | freshments was being served | Well one of the guests had brought- | en their mother along with them and | her and the woman of the house was | having a quiet dish of ice cream, cake and chocolate in the living rm. The Japper pro tem was in the rm. wait- | ing on them and T was asked did T want what they was having, so I says ! no but I would like a bottle of what we jojkingly call beer. 1 may as well exclaim at this pt. that the Japper of the day was a bov | ! name Yamas which nine out of 10 of them goes by that name which is probably short for Pajamas. Well any way the Mrs. says Mr. | L—r don't care for no ice cream. | cake or chocolate Yamas, but you can | | fetch him In a bottle of beer. Well it couldn’t of been more than 2 or 3 minutes elapsed when Yamas come back and served me with a cup of | chocolate and a dish of Ice cream and cake. | Well the one before that Yamas was a boy name Wm. about who I wrote you before and he held the office of chamber maid besides waiter and the one thing he hated was empty clothes baskets. Whatever vou left laying around your rm. when You went to breakfast, why he would throw it for a basket. Now when I am going to play golf I wear different kind of sox and shirt and can also brag that I have got 2 pair of g——rs which 1 wear one pair for golf and the other for the home life. But the sox and g—rs and shirt which I aln't golng to wear that morning, why I genally always leave them somewheres in the rm. * X % ¥ ELL wile Wm. was with us why T V would not no sooner get out of the rm. when he would swoop into the rm. and gather up hosery and & s and shirt, buttons inclusive, and shoot them into the clothes basket till finely I put the quietus on this custom by picking up all the garments 1 wasn't going to wear and hiding same in varlous set pieces of antio furniture, Well one of the Jappers that ain't beea to our house is in the employee service | of a friend of mine in Ardsley on the Hudson and this friend of mine got @ tooth ache though he had been to| He got the tooth | the dentist in 1908. pulled and the dentist told him to rinse his mouth in the morning with salt and water. So my friend got up the next morning and hollered down stairs to the Japper to bring him up some salt. Well they was a long delay and finely my friend started down the stairs to find out why and he met Yamas coming up the stairs lugging a large saw which he had borrowed off some men that was fixing the trees. “WE ASKED THE JAPPER THAT GOT HERE YESTERDAY WHAT lw}?‘.;{}!fi NAME AND HE SAYS Tt was just a little misunderstanding in regards to wds. and he probably thought my friend had came acrost a tough piece of whisker. Those is the kind of incidence which makes life worth wile and which a family that ain’t got a little Jap in the home can see what they are missing and personly I could write 2 or 3 columns on different supprises that has been sprang on us since we been having them but the boss says I have wasted enough space so will close by stating that we asked the [Japper that got here yesterday what was his name and he says Itchy. RING H. LARDNER. Great Neck, Long Island, June 15. —_—— The movement to allow women to use their maiden names after mar- riage is said to be gaining ground. 1t might be pointed out that mere man has no privileges at all after he is married, knew nothing about | It there- | “She | I shall call for her within the hour.” Mr. Arnold, with an appearance of greater relief than he actually felt, offered his hand, which Jerome took in a perfunctory and slightly absent- minded way. ‘“Let us hope,” said Mr. Arnold, “that matrimony may per- tal Infelicities.” PR EROME went out with a heart like lead and returned immediately to the hotel, where his first act was to call up Sylvia. “It's Jerry “Forgive me, Sylvia @ talk with Mr. Arnold. Alison tracts her statement of yesterd; and there seems no way out of i There was a moment’'s silence; then teady volce answered “I said she would, Jerry. God bless you! Good-bye™ Jerry summoned the porter, sent down his luggage, paid his bill, and stepping into a hotel taxi, directed the driver to the Arnolds’ old ecity home in Gramercy Park. On enter- ing the house, he was met by Alison, whose face was slightly pale and showed the traces of tears. She of- fered him her lips. “We've both been very silly, Jerry eaid she. “I was nervous and upset. | “Let's forget it, dear,” said Jerome in a strained voice. “You're all ready “Yes.' She touched the bell, and the butler came from the rear of the bouse. “Put my things in the taxi, Higgs." said Alfson. They got into the vehicle and were about to move away when a messen- ger boy crossed the sidewalk to the door of the house. “Walt & minute, called to the butler: Higgs?" 'Yes, Miss—I mean, Mrs. Kenyon.” Alison took the dispatch. and, lean- ing back in the cab, tore open the envelope with a word of apology to Jerome. it whiten suddenly, while her large eves darkened from the dilatatior of her pupils. Then she looked at him with an indescribable expression, ex- | citement being the predominant note mingled with an accent of triumph which was almost cruel. Then, to Jerome's astonighnient, she beckoned to the butler, who was standing on the steps walting respectfully but with a bit of curiesity to see them arive aw “Higgs!"” “Yes—Mrs, Kenyon." “Take my things back | house.” | The astonished butler obeyed. Alison turned to Jerome, and her thin | carmine lips were wreathed in a feline smile. band. | “Good-bye. Jerry sald she. “We've {had an awfully close shave from ruining our lives.' | Jerome felt his head whirling. | belleve you're right, Alison.” | “You don't ask to see my dispatch ! ‘Why should I, when I refused to | show you mine?” “Well, you might as well know what it says. I'm apt to need your help. An annulment is not like a divorce. Collusion doesn’'t matter. It's like the canceling of any clvil contract hy mutual agreement of the parties of the first and second parts. 1t can be done immediately, and at no great cost.” She handed him the slip of vellow paper. It was dated the morning of the previous day from Capetown, South Africa, and it read as follows: ‘Just seen old copy of Times an- nouncing your engagement. Implore it my arrival. Leaving by ship. Liverpool and New Letter should reach vou in telling of my big strike in newly opened flelds. Millions in | signt. Wild with anxiety. Cable con- sulate Capetown that I'm not too late. Dick.” * K ok K said he, unstea re- a Carry on said Alison, and into the G ¢ York. few da. | All my love. OR the severalth time in the last twenty-four hours Jerome's heart went through some violent gymnas- tics, while his mouth was subject to that sudden dryness which comes with powerful emotion. But he was getting inured to this, and so man- aged to croak, awkwardly, albeit with sincerity: “My warmest congraf ulations, Alison. Who s Dick?" “Richard Crandall. We were e gaged two years ago, but he hadn't a cent. Then there was a silly fight, and he slammed off in a rage.” Jerome reflected that this appeared to be a habit of Alison’s flances, but it did not seem quite the moment to remark on ft. ‘Dick was really the one love of my lite, Jerry. I've been bitter ever | since. You're not too cut up about | it, are you?” “I shall try to weather it said | Jerome dryly. “How long did you say It takes to get an’annulment?” ‘Oh, father can manage that quick- |1y, with his influence. “We might go up and break the glad news to him,” Jerome suggested. “I'd rather like to have his official acquittal.” Alison laughed. “That's a happy thought. You are a good sport, Jerry." Jerome told the driver to go to the Metropolitan building. As the taxi moved away, Allson, seized with sud- den contrition, laid her hand upon his arm. “You really are a dear, Jerry. I've been a cat. But, honestly, don’t You think that this marriage of ours was foredoomed to faflure?” “I'm afraid so, Alison. Even with- out Dick, I doubt that it would have been a brilliant success. “You don't blame me, do you Jerry?” “I do not,” said Jerome with em- phasis. “You have shown a lot more sense than I did.” “But I mean about getting engaged to you in the first place. You see, Jerry, 1 might as well confess, there were other reasons besides fondness for you. I found out by accident that father was planning to marry again— a woman T can’t stand. Jerry understood suddenly what had puzzled him considerably—to wit, Mr. Arnold's ready acquiescence in his daughter's marriage to & man who, though of good social position, had so little to offer in & material way. “Do you blooded, Jerry?" think me Alison very cold sked, then added quickly: “No. Il withdraw that question. You're such an honest old dear, and T want ihat we should part friends “A girl has got to consider her future in these uncertain days,” said Jerome oracularly, “especiaily a girl de luxe like you." “I'm afraid I am extravagant, my dear,” Alison admitted cheerfully; “and as my prospective stepmother manently remove these temperamen- | I have just had | s that for me, | Glancing at her face, he saw | She offered him her | BY HENRY C. ROWLAND |1s even worse, 1 could scarcely have | expected much from father"™ “Mr. Arnold ha some good news in store for him. “Of course,” Alison agresd naivei: ¥ then laughed. “Oh, dear! 1I'm g0 . cited I scarcely know what I'm say ing. You must think me a horrid mercenary wretch. But now that it all arranged, do tell me, Jerry, wha was in that nasty note.” Jerome, a bit rattled himself, wa about to obey a sudden impulse, b as he glanced at wlison's finely chis eled and beautful profile, strane gled it. It held an expression that he ha seen there many times before, b which now for the first time he was able accurately to interpret. It toid of an intense covetousness, not alona for money nor for the man, but toward the comblnation of the two In fairness to Alison it may ba sa that money alone had failed to binc her, and Jerome's own case was t ‘nalreul in which she had ever com to surrendering herself to the ma * E had evidence enough that as a male individual he pleas. he infinitely, but looking at her now, he shuddered to think what must in evitably have happened when this attraction failed to satisfy. So, a* her request to see the note, he shook hse head “What good could now?" he asked ‘Oh, very welll" she answere: ritably. “But If it's what I t it might help in the annulment ¢ Imarriage.” “On the contrary strikes me that my stubborn r to show it either to yourself or to your father should count for mors in getting you clear of me. Leave well enough alone, mv dear gir! I hadn't refused in the first place, ju | think what you might have missed.” Allson nodded. “I fancy | right, Jerry, but I hope this 15 TN, going to make a woman-hater you.” “Oh, no i * * | * that do you e hink the said Jerome 1t isal T realize that our recenr | disagreement must have left a spot, | which fs still sore, while vours an | Dick’s has had time to cicatrize, ac [to speak. Besides, fresh kals is splendid surgical dressing.” | Alison shot him a susplelous look [ “You are bitter, Jerry.” said she | “I'll get over 1t. Well, here ws ara | Your father has a pleasant surprise {in store for him." | Mr. Arnold was in his office. ang/ | they were ushered in immediately | “Well” he snapped. “Wh | matter now?" “We have come to sign which we hope may be fol |1asting peace.” said Alison. | x n arm wed by a nd the formation of a new all * said Jerome don't get you,” growled the | lawyer. “There was nothing the mat ter with the ceremony, was there” | “only that it took place. | Jerome. “Show your father the tele | gram, Alison.” She did g0, and it was wonderful |to Jerome to observe the dissipation (of the storm clouds on the face of the lawyer. He glanced sharply | his daughter. | “I never had much confidence young Crandall,” said he, “but it's for you to decide.” ] “I've done so, papa,” said Alison | “Jerry and I agree that our marriage was a great mistake. We've never been compatible temperamentall: and I must admit I don't think a gir | brought up as T have been ought ever | to marry a poor man, especially | she looked with meaning at | father, who flushed beneath | knowing gaze—“when her male par | ent is still young and handsome and | a widower. | “Come, come. ce, an [ her daughter,” Mr. Ar | nold interrupted gruffiy. *You need | not go into personalities. Since you | are both of the same mind in this matter there can be but one courss for us to pursue, and we shall ger | about it with as little discussion and | delay as possible.” 1 x ¥ ¥ % HE hour hand of the big clock on | the Metropolitan building's towe} | had traveled about a quarter of & mile around the dial before Jerome received official announcement that his contract of matrimony with Al son was null and void. He sped with all dispatch to Sylvia, who recel ed him with a pale but radiant face “Oh, Jerry," she whispered. “Are, | you really free?” * he answered. “1 am engaged —to you. I expect to remain in that stage for not more than about two hours. The marriage license is | my pocket in a long envelope with the annulment papers, and I hope very shortly to have a third docu- ment to add to the collection. [ stopped at the Little Church Around the Corner, and the course is being | cleared for the third event.” Thers was no hitch to this { gram, which was carried out befors { & small but carefully selected aud ence. As they rolled away, nestled close to her husband looked at her with sparkling “I think it's time I showed you that scrap of paper which ruptured reia tions between Alison and me.” He reached into the pocket and produced the yellow envelope, which he kissed and handed to his bridce “Read it aloud, sweetheart. I love hear it Sylvia read: “Shreveport, La., June 1, 1922. Over the top of the derrick, twenty thousand barrels strong Standing off the rush for leases. Your™ share worth a million. Better bring your bride here for honeymoon. Hatr got Nlagara swamped for gush Hearty congratulations. Love to. 4 Jerome snatched the paper the trembling hands of his whipped out his pencil, drew a through the last word of th patch, and wrote above fit: “Syl (Copsright, 1928.) He from bride Oldest Confection THE greater part of black licorice is derived from Spain, where it is made from the juice of the plant and mixed with starch to prevent it from melting in hot weather. The licorice plant is a shrub that attains & height of three feet, and it grows wild where its roots reach the we- ter. It flourishes especially on the banks of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Since the valley of the Euphr contained one of the earliest civii- zations in the world. the probabii is that licorice is about the ol confection of all, and the taste which the boys and girls of today like so well was enjoyed by the youngsteds of three thoussnd years ago,