Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, August 31, 1907, Page 8

By GUY CHAPTER Vil.—(Continued.) | Marjorie started. Her mother went to a side table on which was a little portable telephone. She held the re- ceiver to her ear, and, when the clerk from the downstairs office replied, asked that Sir William Gouldesbrough should be told at once that Lady Poole would be very glad to see him in No. 207. Marjorie rose and began to pace the room. A growing excitement master- ed her, her hands twitched, her eyes were dilated. Perhaps she was at last going to hear something—something definite, something new—about Ger- ald There was a knock at the door. A waiter opened it and Sir William Gouldesbrough came into the room CHAPTER IX. Gratitude of Miss Marjorie Poole. As the man to whom she had been engaged came into the room, Marjorie rose to meet him. She was not embarrassed; the hour and occasion were too serious for that, and she herself was too brok- en down for any emotions save those that were intensely real and came from an anguished heart. She went up to him, all pale and drooping, and took him by the hand. “Thank you, William,” she said, in a low voice, and that was all. But in her words Gouldesbrough re- alized all that she was powerless to say. He heard, with an inward thrill and leap of the pulses, an immense re- spect for him, which, even in the days of their engagement, he had never heard. Always Marjorie had reverenced his attainments; never had she seem- ed to be so near to him as a man as now. He looked straight into her eyes, nor did his own flinch from her direct and agonized gaze. The frightful power of his domineering will, the horrible strength of his desire, the intensity of his purpose, enabled him to face her look without a sign of tremor. He—this man with a marvelous in- tellect and a soul unutterably stained by the most merciless perfidy—was yet able to look back at her with a kind, sorrowful, and touching glance. Sir William Gouldesbrough wore no metal helmet which should make the horror of his thoughts and knowledge plain for Marjorie to see. The man who had committed a crime as foul and sinister as ever crime was yet; the man who was responsible for the pale face of the girl he loved, the drooping form, the tearful eyes, yet smiled back at her with a mask of pa- tient resignation, defiance and chiv- alry. “Iam so glad you've come, Will-+ fam,” Lady Poole said. “And I’m sure, distressing as all these circum- stances are, we cannot thank you enough for what you have done and are doing. No one else in your posi- | tion would have done so much. And on Marjorie’s behalf and on my own I} thank you with a full heart.” Sir William bowed. Then Lady Poole, voluble as_ she usually was, and unabashed in almost every circumstance, hesitated a little. The situation was certainly very deli- eate, almost unparalleled, indeed, and it was certainly quite outside even her wide experience. But her voice had a genuine ring of thankfulness and gratitude, and the real woman emerg- ed from the veneer of worldliness and baffled ambition. There was a pause for a moment; mo one of the three spoke a single word. Then Lady Poole, by an intu- ition, said and did exactly the right thing—perhaps old Sir Frederick's “hobby of tact” had not been without its use after all! She sank into a chair. “There's no need for any explana- tion, I can see that,” she said, with a sigh of relief. “With any other man it would have been so different, but it’s all right, William; I can see it in your manner and in your presence here. Then let me say once and for all that both Marjorie and I feel at last we have got some one with us who will help us. We have been terribly alone. ‘We have both felt it most poignantly. After all, women do want a man in a crisis! You, dear William, are the last man we should have thought of ‘Alive or Dead?’ The Strange Disappearance of Gerald Rathbone. asking to help us, and yet you are the first man who has come to do so.” “Dear Lady Poole,” Gouldesbrough answered, in a quiet voice, “I think perhaps I see a little of what you mean. I am not sure, but I think I do. And I regard it as the greatest privi- lege and honor to come to you with an offer of help and assistance in your trouble.” He turned to the younger lady. “Marjorie,” he said, “you must treat me just like a brother now. You must forget ali that has passed between us and just lean on me, rely on me, use me. Nothing could make me more happy than just that.” Lady Poole rose again. Who shall gay, in the volatile brain of the good NEEEOCTIVE THORNE. dame, that already, in the exhiliara- tion of Sir William’s presence and kindness, new hopes and ambitions were not reviving? Lady Poole was a woman, and she was an opportunist, too. Woman-like, her mind moved fast into an imaginary future—it had always done so. And it is possible that upon the clouded horizon of her hopes a faint star began to twinkle once more. Who ‘shall blame Lady Poole? “Now, my dears,” she said in a more matter-of-fact voice, “I think, perhaps, you might be happier in discussing this matter if I were to go away. Un- der the circumstances, I am perfectly aware that it’s not the correct thing to do, but that is speaking only from a conventional standpoint, and none of us here can be conventional at a mo- ment like this. have me stay, just say so. But it is with pride and pleasure that I know I can leave you with Marjorie, William, even under these miserable circum- stances and in this unhappy busi- mess.” Gouldesbrough smiled sadly. “It is as Marjorie wishes,” he said. “But I am confident that Marjorie knows she can trust me.” The great man saw that once more the girl lifted her eyes and looked at him with something which was almost like reverénce. Never before had he seen her look at him like this. Once more the evil joy in the possibility of victory after all leapt through his blood. No thought or realization of the ter- rible thing he had done, of the horrors that he and the pink-faced man in Regent’s Park were even now perfect- ing, came to trouble that moment of evil pride. Everybody had always said—everybody who had _ been brought into contact with him always knew—that Sir William Gouldes- brough was a strong man! Lady Poole waited a moment to see if her daughter made any sign of wish- ing her to remain, and finding that there was none, for Marjorie was standing with drooping head and made no movement, the dowager swept out of the room with rustling skirts and gently closed the door. Sir William Gouldesbrough and Mar- jorie Poole were left alone. The man of action asserted him- self. “Sit down, Marjorie,” he said, in a commonplace tone, “and just let me talk to you on pure matters of fact. Now, my dear, we haven’t seen each other since you wrote me the letter telling me that our engagement was a mistake. You know what my reply to that was, and I believe and trust you know that I shall remain perfectly true to both the spirit and actual words of that communication. That’s all we need say now, except just this. I loved you dearly and I love you dearly now. I had hoped that we might have been very happy together and that I might have spent my life in your service. But that was not to be in the way that I had hoped. At the same time I am not a man easily moved or changed, and if I cannot be yours in one way, dear girl, I will be yours in another. However, that’s all about that. Now, then, let me tell you. how hard I have been trying to discover the truth of this astounding disappearance of poor Mr. Gerald | Rathbone.” A low sob came from the girl in the chair. It was a sob not only of regret for her lost lover, but it had the same note of reverence, of utter apprecia- tion, of her first words. “You are too good,” she said. “Will- iam, I have treated you horribly badly. You are too good. Oh, you are too good!” 5 “Hush!” he said, in a sharp, stacca- to voice. “We agreed that aspect of the question wasn’t to be spoken of any more. The past is the past, and, my dear little girl, I beg you to real- ize it. You loved poor Gerald Rath- bone, and he seems to have been wiped out of ordinary life. My busi- nss is to find him again for you, so that you may be happy. I have been trying to do the utmost in my power for days. I have done everything that my mind could suggest, and as yet nothing has occurred. Now, Marjorie, let’s just bd businesslike. Tell me what you think about the matter, and I will tell you what L think. See if our two brains cannot hit on some- thing which will help us.” “William,” she said, with a full note —a chord, rather—of deep pain in her voice, “William, I don’t know what to think. I can’t understand it. I am lost in utter darkness. There seems no possible reason why he should have gone away. I can only think that the worst has happened, and that some terrible people must have killed him.” “But why?” “Oh,” she answered, almost hysteri- cally, “he was so beautiful and so strong! They must have killed him because he was so different from oth- er men.” She did not see the tall man who sat before her wince and quiver. She did not see his face change and contort itself into malignancy. She did not realize that these innocent words, wrung from a_ simple, dis- tressed, and loving heart, meant aw- If you would ratherJ "ful things for the man she longed for. | “But, Marjorie’—the voice came | Steady and strong—‘“you know that is ' just a little fantastic, if you will for- | give me for saying so. People don’t | go about injuring other people be- cause they are better looking or have finer natures than themselves. They only say unkind things about them; they don’t kill them, you know.” “Oh, of course, you are right, Will- iam,” she answered, “and I hardly know what I’m saying, the pain of it all is so great. But, then, there is nothing to say. I can’t understand, I ; can hardly realize what has happen- ed.” “For my part,” Sir William an- swered, “I have left no stone unturned to discover the truth. I have been in communication with every force or agency which might be able to explain the thing. And no one has given me the slightest hint, except, perhaps ” She leapt up from her chair, her pale face changed. “Yes!” she cried. what is that?” . Her breath came thick and fast. Sir William remained sitting in his chair and his head was bowed. “Sit down, Marjorie,” he answered; “I didn’t mean to say that.” “But you said it,” she replied. “Ah! my ears are very keen, and there was something in your voice which had meaning, William, what is it—what is it?” “Nothing,” he answered, in a deep, decisive voice. But the voice brought no conviction to her ears. She had detected, or thought she had detected, the note of an inner knowledge when he had first spoken. She crossed the room with rapid strides and laid her white hand upon his shoulder. “You've got to tell me,” she said, imperiously. And her touch thrilled him through and through with an ex. quisite agony and an exquisite joy. “It’s nothing,” he repeated. Now there was less conviction than ever in his voice. She laughed hys- terically. “William,” she said, “I know you so well, you can’t hide any- thing from me. There’s something you can tell me. Whatever it may be, good or bad, you’ve just got to tell me.” At that he looked up at her, and his face, she saw, was drawn and fright- ened. “Marjorie,” he said, “don’t let any words of mine persuade you into any belief. Since you ask me I must say what I have'got to say. But mind you, I am in no way convinced myself that what I am going to tell you is more than mere idle supposition.” “Tell me,” she whispered, and her voice hissed like escaping steam. “Well, it’s just this,” he said, “and it’s awfully hard for me even to hint such a thing to you. But, you know, Rathbone had recently made rather a friend of poor Eustace Charliewood. I like Charliewood; you never did. A man’s point of view and a girl’s point of view are quite different about a man. But, of course, I can’t pretend that Charliewood is exactly—well—er —what you might call—I don’t know quite how. to put it, Marjorie.” “I know,” she. said, with a shudder of disgust, “I know—go on.” “Well, just before Rathbone disap- peared these two seemed to have been about together a good deal, and, of course, Charliewood is a man who has some rather strange acquaint- ances, especially in the theatrical world. Marjorie, I hardly know how to put it to you and I think I had bet- ter stop.” “Go on!” she cried once more. “Well,” he said, wearily, “Rathbone was a good fellow, no doubt, but he is a young man, and no girl really knows what the life of a young man really. is or may be. I know that Charliewood introduced Rathbone to a certain girl. Oh, Marjorie, I can’t go on; these sus: picions are unworthy.” (To Be Continued.) “What is it— BEST OIL FOR ROADS. Results of a Test in Kansas — Oils Must Contain Asphaitum. A recent test of oils for road making in Kansas showed that the residuum from the refinery was superior to any of the crude oils, one gallon of the res- iduum being equal to two to four of crude oil. In order to determine the value of this material for road making, says Country Life in America,-a road bed was prepared in sandy soil.’ After grading it was plowed four and a half inches deep and harrowed. A harrow preceded and followed each application of the residuum, which was repeated until one gallon had been applied to each square yard. The sur- face was then smoothed and rolled. After considerable use the surface of the road became dusty and another application was made. Prof. Dickens reports that the road is perfectly sat- isfactory, being firm, but not hard. Another stretch of road treated in the same way sustained loads weigh- ing three tons and more during wet weather without being damaged. Not even a break in the surfact crust oc- curred. Oils containing less than 30 per cent of asphaltum are not fit for road purposes. No More Work for Him. © Hicks—I suppose Dremer is still pottering about his inventions? Wicks—Well, he has actually per- fected a great labor-saving scheme at last. Hicks—Really! Wicks—Yes. He’s going to marry Miss Millions! If you make your mind a cessp%ol your life certainly will have an evidest ill odor, FOR SELFISH ENDS. — The Efforts Being Made by the Ameri- can Medical Association. The Political activity of the Ameri- can Medical Association has become so pronounced as to cause comment in political circles especially as the the avowed purpose of the Doctors of the “Regular” or Allopathic school, of which the Association is chiefly com- posed, is to secure the passage of such laws as will not only prevent the sale of so-called “Patent” medicines, but will restrict the practice of medi- cine and healing to the “schools” now recognized. This in many states would prevent the growing practice of Os- teopathy, and in nearly every state would prevent the healers of the Christian Science and mental science belief from practicing those sciences in which the faith of so many intelli- gent people is so firmly rooted. The American Medical Association has a “Committee on Legislation,” and the committee has correspond- ents in practically every township — scme 16,000 correspondents in all. This committee at the last session of the American Medical Association held in June of this year expressed a hope that a larger number of physi- cians than heretofore will offer them- selves as candidates for Congress at the first opportunity. In its annual report this Committee said: “To meet the growing demands of the move- ment, however, particularly if the work of active participation in State legislation is undertaken, a larger clerical force must be employed.” This ts almost the first time in the history of the United States that any organized class has frankly avowed the purpose of capturing legislatures and dominating legislation in their own selfish interests. The American Medical Association has about 65,000 members of whom 27,000 are “fully constituted mem- bers” and the rest are members be- cause of their affiliation with state or local societies. The Association owns real estate in Chicago valued at $111,- 781.91 and its total assets are $291,- 567.89. Its liabilities, at the time of the annual report which was made at the June meeting, amounted to only $21,906. The excess of assets over liabilities is increasing at the rate of about $30,000 a year, and the purpose of the organization is to dominate the field of medicine, and by crushing all competitions by securing the pas- sage of prohibitive legislation, compe all of the people of the United States to pay a doctor’s fee every time the most simple remedy is needed. SOUTH AMERICAN RAILWAYS. They Run East and West Instead of North and South. Although to the North American exponents of that project there has seemed a discouraging lack of interest in the Pan-American railway scheme on the part of South American railroad men, there has really been no cessa- tion of the activity in their more im- mediate spheres, says the American Review of Reviews. “Let us build the lines the country needs,” they say, “and don’t ask us to go out of our way to further a-scheme which, however practicable from an engineering point of view, would not pay us dividends in this century, and possibly not in the next. “We concede that we might benefit indirectly through the increased stabil. ity of government that would follow the building of an intercontinental line, but that benefit is too remote to in. terest us at a time when we have ample opportunity for expending all our available funds in the construction of lines that will yield returns from the day they are opened.” So it happens that while there has never been so much activity in railway construction in South America as at the present time, almost without excep tion the new lines are following the parallels rather than the meridians, running east and west rather than north and south. BAD DREAMS Frequently Due to Coffee Drinking. One of the common symptoms of coffee poisoning is the bad dreams that spoil what should be restful sleep. A man who found the reason says: “Formerly I was a slave to coffee. I FOR THE BOUDOIR PINCUSHION AND NEEDLE CASE IS PRETTY. Can Be Made by Any Woman Fond of Fine Needlework—Attractive Occupation for the Sum- mer Days. The woman who is fond of doing fine hand needlework can often make very pretty and dainty little things without much outlay for material, and this sort of work is quite easy, furnish- ing attractive occupation for long sum- mer days. The article pictured on this page has the added virtue of being useful. One’s favorite flower may be used as decoration for the odd little pincushion shown in the drawing. The cushion may be made of pink satin with wild roses, green satin with almost any flower, violet satin with pansies, or any desired combination. The body of the cushion was in the form of a sack, having a heavy card- board base, covered with the satin, and the sack neatly stuffed and sewed up at the top. The flowers for the top were cut from satin ribbon, the petals being tinted in the natural tints of the flower, the stamens and centers being taken from artificial flowers. If in- tended for a gift, the cushion may be stuck full of pins with fancy heads, forming symmetrical designs. In the same picture with’ the pin- cushion is another article to be made by the fancy-worker. It is a needle- and-pin case, made of fine French cre- tonne, decorated with pink flowers and green foliage in natural shades, green was like a morphine fiend, could not sleep at night, would roll and toss in my bed and when I did get to sleep was disturbed by dreams and hobgob- lins, would wake up with headaches and feel bad all day, so nervous I could not attend to business. My-writ- ing looked like bird tracks, I had sour belchings from the stomach, indiges- tion, heartburn and palpitation of the heart, constipation, irregularity of the kidneys, etc. “Indeed, I began to feel I had all the troubles that human flesh could suffer, but when a friend advised me to leave off coffee I felt as if he had insulted me. I could not bear the idea, it had such a hold on me and I refused to believe it the cause. “But it turned out that no advice was ever given at a more needed time for I finally consented to try Postum and with the going of coffee and the *com- ing of Postum all my troubles have gone and health has returned. I eat and sleep well now, nerves steadied down and I write a fair hand (as you can see), can attend to business again! and rejoice that I am free from the monster coffee.” Ten days’ trial of Postum in place of coffee will bring sound, restful, re-! freshing sleep. “There’s a Reason.” | Read “The Road to Wellville,” in pkgs. | Some physicians call it “a little health | slassic.” ribbon being used for binding. The case had a pocket for tapes, elastic, thread, etc., and was provided with Pincushion and Needle Case. pinked flannel pieces for the needles and pins. The flap has rounded cor- ners and fastens with a glove clasp. LIGHT TRIMMINGS ON HATS, Fashion’s Frown Set on Anything Too Elaborate. The white hats are many of them, made of chip, but others again are made of crin and not a few of tulle, but whatever the material, the trim- mings are light and airy, filmy and suggestive of light weight which is es- sential to summer comfort. One of the latest Parision fads is for the use of skeletonized flowers, but those of slightly more definite form are pre- ferred on this’side of the sea. A very lovely example of a recent hat of chip is of the rather large, modified mush- room sort and is trimmed extensively with princesse lace and great masses of white morning glories. These last flowers are favorites at the present time, both in white and in color. A second hat, which also is of the fine French chip, is faced with moire and is trimmed with big bows of wide moire ribbon and large white roses, but in this instance there is a touch of color found in the foliage, which is of the natural green. One of the pret- tiest of the crin hats that yet has been noted is trimmed with condor plumage but is worn with such a big envelop- ing veil that the details are entirely CORD FOR THE PURSE. Simple Contrivance That Will insure Against Loss. Perhaps one of the most simple and effective ways of attaching a safety cord to a purse is illustrated by the accompanying sketch. It merely con- sists of a piece of silk cord and a large china bead or a small key-ring. The bead or ring is knotted on to one side of the cord, and the other end passed through it.to form a loop to go over the wrist. The two ends are then sewn firmly on to either side of the purse. When the hand is placed through the loop, the loose end of the cord can be pulled through the bead, thus tightening the cord on the wrist, and thereby rendering the loss of the purse almost impossible. If this little precaution were always taken, it would save many a purse from being laid down and forgotten, lost, or per- haps snatched in the street, and as the cord may be attached to any purse in a few moments, the little trouble of doing it may save us the annoyance of losing our purse and its contents. SATIN ON SHEER FABRICS. Favorite Decoration Seen Upon the Summer Gowns. Soft satin is more extensively used than ever for trimming sheer sum- mer fabrics, and looks especially well against a background of fresh, crisp organdy. One of the models of the week along the Rue de la Paix is an old yellow organdy, the skirt weighted with bands of yellow satin. This hangs from under a girdle of the same material, embroidered on the upper edge with yellow silk. The Roumanian, Breton, Chinese and Japanese embroideries in all their brutality of color are also favor- ite trimmings for summer stuffs, and add charming touches to the soft ma- terials of lustrous finish used for em- bellishments. When well handled they are gay, with a certain elegance that goes well with the summer of a secondary nature. As distinct a novelty as anything the season has brought forth is of pure white straw trimmed with a mass of flowers and their foliage, which are all made of white batiste. The fiat has apparently gone forth that the lighter and more filmy the hat the more fashionable and attractive it is. To Shorten Thin Dresses. A simple way to shorten wash linen or crash skirts that have a deep hem at the bottom is to take up a tuck on the inside of the hem. This need not be stitched on a machine or very particularly sewn, as the starch used in the laundry will hold it in position, and it can be more eas- ily ripped if the washing shrinks the material. months. Tinted filet lace is used upon many charming summer gowns. Ankle Corsets. When everybody is leaving for the country with the children to take long walks and look for rosy cheeks, it is well to make provision for those who have weak: ankles; says the Chi- cago News. Until now mothers have thought a flannel band sufficient, but there is little value in this practice. The flannel band often works loose and if fastened tightly enough to pre- vent this is apt to induce a painful swelling above and below it. The de- mand for something to take the place of this has brought out the “ankle corset.” These are thin bands of leather, covering the heel and the low- er part of the leg and lacing in front like a boot. The foot in this little covering is well protected in all its movements and little ankles run no risk. Materials for the Waist. In selecting materials for waist with the circular tucked yoke, a plain tabric without stripe or figure is most suitable as the tucked yoke does not develop prettily in other than plain material. If made up in striped mate- rial, the lines of the stripes would be all broken up and irregular. In a fabric with figures or flowers scat- tered over it the effect would not be quite so bad. At the same time, how- ever, the tucks would not show to nearly as much advantage as when plain material is used. Ventilate to Avoid Germs. Give the dining-room a good airing every day, winter as well as summer. Germs are in dust everywhere, but in the dining-room they get into the food and thence into our bodies. The din- ing-room, above all rooms, must be kept clean and well aired. Ventilate the halls. The stale odor of cooking, which too often greets one coming in out of the fresh air, savors of a third-rate boarding house. ae ir Sealy Music a Structure. As statues are made of clay, marble or bronze, and paintings or colors 3 as houses are made of bricks and stone, so music is built up of sounds, of sound on top of sound, sound against sound, sound woven in and through sound.—The Delineator.