New Britain Herald Newspaper, February 4, 1927, Page 24

Quicksands of Love Adele Garrison’s New Phase of Revelations of a Wife A Dinner That Is to Bring a Big b Climax. Lillan looked up at me with a twinkle in her eyes, and immedi- ately there died my hope that she had not caught the meaning of lhe‘ question which I had chopped short | at its first word. ) “Don't worry,” she sald. “I'm not | going to Invite you all to a delica- tessan pick-up in my small room “Please don't Lillian,” I sald mis- | erably. “I didn’t mean e | “Of course, you dldn't,” she sald cheerily, “and please don’t by any more kinds of an {diot than yuu; know how because you began to ask | me a perfectly pertinent question. | It we're going to etage a dinner in| order to foster an acquaintance be- | tween Mary Harrlson and Noel Veritz we want to make the ges- | ture & good one. You have room | enough here, but as we've already | decided, you couldn’t have the ele- memnt of surprise for Mary which we wish. Therefore, I suggested en- | gineering the affair, and you \\'cre‘ perfectly justified in your sudden | mental panic as you pletured my tiny euite. That you didn't get be- yond the first word of oral protest | is a tribute alike to your self-control and your affection for me. Take that distressed look off your face this minute, or I won't tell you a thing about my plans.” There was not the slightest indl- cation of chagrin in her voice and I choked out an appreciative, “You dear!” which brought a quick af- tectionate smile to her lips. “Now, I'll hand you out the real dope,” she said merrily. “This hotel of mine, as you probably know, is a second-rater now, but it used to be | a top-notcher. And a room on the | same floor as mine was once the | last word In a luxurious private dir- ing room. The proprietor of the hotal, who used to be the head waiter in the days of the house's| heyday, has never permitted that | room to be changed, and often some | of the old patrons of the place come back and engage that room for a dinner—there's more sentiment in New York than you'd dream. Now | 1 happen to have a stand-in with the proprietor—he imagines 1 did him a good turn once—"" “What a deluded man,” I gibed, but she went on unheeding. The Schemers - “And 1 can have that room any >n!l;h( that it is not engaged without paying a cent. Also by,picking out the dishes which are the favorites of the good but somewhat limited chet, T can put on a fairly creditable dinner. I'll find out when I can have the room and when Noel can come. Then I'll let you know and you can plan accordingly. You'd better give me a line on your en- gagements and Dicky's for the next week or two, so that I can be sure they won't conflict with the date I select. Of course, Mary has no en- gagements.” “Neither have I'" I returned promptly. “Dicky is the only one you'll have to consider.” “I'll talk to him in the morning,” she sald. “That leaves only one thing more to settle, Thera are only five of us. We need another man. But who? That's the question.” I did not answer her, for she pa- tiently expected to do that herself, and the next instant she went on re- | flectively: “Phil Veritzen won't do because he and his son are at ewords’ points; Hugh Grantland—Dicky would foam at the mouth if he appeared—I have it—your father next week anyway, and Tl just n my dinner while ha'a here, I'll make it In his honer. Tn that way Mary will suspect nothing.” She stretched ksr arms above head and came ioward the bed. “It T don't get to sleep,” she sald, “I'll never be able to wake up In time to see Dicky In the morning. Good-night! Me for the mattress.” But long a lay pondering something said. er she had What was the husiness—known to | her and not to me—which would compel my father's presence in the city during the n BY THORNTON W. BURGESS He who would not his duties shirk Must learn to plan as well as work. —Chatterer the Red Squirrel, Chatterer the Red Squirrel wasted no time now. You will remember | that he had discovered a store of beechnuts safely hidden away in a hollow ip a tall, dead stump of a tree, and that he was certain that the very beechnuts had been taken {rom one of his storehouses. Chat- terer climbed up and poked his head out of the entrance hole, a little round doorway. His head almost filled it. He looked this way, he looked that way, he looked up, he | looked down, he looked around and around. Then he chuckled. No one | was there. He disappeared. In a| minute he poked his head out again. ‘This time he looked as if he had the mumps. Once more those bright eyes of his looked in every direction. Then Chatterer climbed out and ran quickly down that tree. He scampered across the snow— little red spot against its whiteness. He likes the snow, but just then he would have liked it better had there been ho snow. He would have liked it better it the ground had merely a covering of dead brown leaves. But he had to make the best of things as they w.re. 8o he scampered swift- Iy across the snow and disappeared | under some young hemlock trees. In ‘ a moment ho was hack again, hurry- | ing to that tall, dead stump. He no | longer looked as if he had the | mumps. Up he climbed, hastily, | looked around, then disappeared in- | stde. It was but a moment befors he was out again and once more he looked as if he had the mumps. He aid Just as he had done before—he scampered across the snow and dis- appeared under the hemlocks, When he reappeared ‘he looked just as a squirrel should look. Of course, you have guessed what he was doing. He was taking those beechnuts out of | that hollow in the tall, dead stump, and he was hiding them under those low-growing hemlocks, where few were likely to venture, As he worked he talked to himself, a way Chatterer has of doing some- times. You know there are people who, when they can get no one else to listen, will listen to themsel So Chatterer worked and talked to | himself, when he didn't have his mouth full, “TIl get all these out of here,” said all out and hidden awav ju as I can. T don't helic will look for them under lock traes, so T'll 1 only until T ean place to put the these hechnuts ont and hidden T'll Tun over home and that every- thing is all right th Then Tl come hack here and T'll enrl up in that bed up in that hollow stump and Tl wait. ¥ Tl wait. T think T know now who my beechnuts, T wonder T aidn't think of him before. Put T'll have to waif until dark to make sure. That mueh T know. When he does come he'li get a littlo It won' so0 pleasant a 3 the surprise T had these sweet beachnints. My, but they are good! Y would like to sit right down and eat my fill this very min ute, But that to do. There will be time enough 1o eat after T have all t he nuts hidden where no one else will | find them.” After & while Chatterer reached ths bottom of that hollow. Not one single little thr Ided beechnut was When he had made sure of s. ha laft the old tree and started for home. It was quite a long way, | sir, v stola surpris ¢ surprise when 1 och He scampered across the snow, a little red spot against the whiteness, but he had to get there to make sure that none of his other storehouses had been found and robbed while he was away. He knew that he couldn't possibly sleep easy without knowing this. And all the way there he |chuckled because he had found his missing beechnuts, he had discov- ered who had taken them, and he | was planning a surprise for that one. The next story: “Timmy the Flying Squirrel is Suspicion Menas for the Family (BY SISTER MARY) Breakfast—Stewed dried apri- cots, cereal, thin cream, codfish hash, spider corn bread, milk, coffe: Luncheon—Baked Macaronl with dried beef and mushrooms, bran , hearts of celery, apple spider cake, miik, tea. Dinner—Boiled mutton rice, molded spinach W cooked eggs, whole wheat peach charlotte, milk, coffee. No salad s suggested in the di r menu but of course can be adde if wanted. However since the fresh w vegetables required dally s served at noontime and spinac forms the dinner ve; ble the day's menu is well balanced and not lack- ing in vitamine. Apple Spider One tablespoon bu light brown sugar, 1 . bread, cup iredded eup flour, on baki e 4t 1-S teaspoon c powder, 2 nly ¢ over rinkle hottom 1 with Beat eg in suga st mi mixing light, & sift flour into z with th and vani ising over cover with minutes on hot apple sauce Am @ cake must covering with the whipped cream (Copyright, 1927 NEA Service, Ine.) Soap, Ointment, Talcum sold everywhere. 25 to come up here | ter she was asleep 1| spoon va- | NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1927. READ THIS FIRST Bobble Ransom, a demure and pretty little school teacher, is any- thing but a flip of girl you would expect to he “movle struck.” But she is. For years she has dreamed of going to Hollywood to break into pletures. The only drawback to her ambi- tion is lack of money, for everything she makes has a way of slipping through her extravagant fingers. Her father, a widower, and her Aunt Gertrude, who brought her up, both refuse to lend her money to go on “such a wild goose chase.” So does Andrew Jerrold, who wants her to stay at home and marry him. Final- ly Bobble borrows $500 from the Widow Parkins, who i3 goling to be her father’s second wife, and starts off to Hollywood with a fat purse and a high heart. At Mrs. Mangan's boarding house in the miovie city, she meets Stella Delroy, an extra girl in pictures. Through her Bobbie finds work at the Magnifica Studlos, where Roy Schultz, a famous director, becomes {interested in her. So does Gus Mac- Cloud, an assistant director, and she |gets a small part in a big picturg, MacCloud makes love to Bobbie, an‘n | one night they go to his house and spend several hours there. Next morning, Monica Mont, who's work- ed Magnifica for years, tells her that | she’s not the only girl who's been | entertained at MacCloud’'s house, |and hints that she's been there her- . Monica is a gold-digger, and she never pays her own way. When | she runs short of money she moves into Bobbie's room with her al- though Bobbie doesn’t want to share it with anyone. One afternoon when Bobbie is go- [Ing to a party at MacCloud’'s house, | she gets a wire from home telling | her that her aunt is {ll. MacCloud is | turious because she leaves town for home at once. He wanted her to stay over for his party, and while Bobbie knows he's spoiled and sulky, she goes right on being in love with him. Andy Jerrold meets her at the sta- tion with the news that her aunt was | dead at the time the wire was sent, and Bobbie contrasts the way he looks after her with MacCloud's self- ishness. One morning, just after her father has announced that he is go- ing to sell the house and marry the widow, Andy comes—and Bobbie knows he's going to propose to her again, NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER XXI thing to her a dozen times before, in different ways: ays be hanging around like a swing when you get ready to change your mind about me, Bob- ble.” Or: “You can't get rid of me, honey. I'm golng to stick around like glue—and I'm going sticking around.” But no matter how he said the thing, Bobbie had always felt that it was true. She had felt some- thing n him that was dependable and firm as a rock. he knew tha she had only to reach out her hand tor him when she necded him. And that sunny October morn- ing, she feit that she did need him. She neaded him for comfort in the sudden loneliness that had come over her. She hald on to him with both hands as it she would never let him go. “Dad’s going to sell the house, I suppose,” she fold him In a shak Ing volce. “I didn’t know I'd c: if he did—T didn’ know how much but I do like it. T don’t even mind taking care of it, now that I have to.” She drew him down beside her on the old horse-hair sofa that stood against the wall, and put her head down on his shoulder. She never would have dared to do that sort of | thing with any other man—not with a man like Gus MacCloud, for in- stance—If she hadn't wanted him to make love to her. But Andy was so different. O friend that he was, ho was as comfortable as an old shoe. "0t course, you like taking care of the house,” he said to her now in a voice as passionless as the voice of a professor. hat's why I've been trying to tell you for years. You were cut out for this sort of thing—" With a wave of his arm he took in the Ay room with its clean curtains, | its shining silver on the sideboard, the spotless table, even the rack of cold toast. "It you'd o me In a houss see that you'd queen—" “Queens | queens,” Bc “Well, you'd could make v settle down with of your own, be as happy as a n't happy. Not all as happy as I then," A impatient You to go batiing around the way you've been do- last You were made for me.” He moved away from her on the couch and stuck h hands in his pockets, the opposite wall. Bobbie look 28 was drean, tdea of w et out of marr ing for ti month. too, but h yot 1an ghould Iy and and softly Mot | T then added tho “Oh, T suj ushand would co ove for her ci —and t gome ed tha shioned id admit } " W | | l That finished | for that d | seer 2 to blaze on him, and hot color flar | her ches “x\flin'mz. indeed! A | had had a ¢ hat life could t Ihkn. in Hollywood! What kind of as sh tame pussycat did Andy think eh was anyway? One of these mu I silly women who cut out cake r JOHNSON FEATURES | WIOLLYWO Andy had probably said that same | to keep on | I lked this ramshackle old dump, | yowd | and make their husbands’ shirts from a bolt of pongee? Namby-pam- by women who let their families use Ithem for door-mats and scrubbing | bruehes. And yet, of course, Andy wouldn't treat his wife as it she were a ‘doormut. He was too much of a man for that, Bobbie knew. What Andy |would do would be to completely | spoil his woman—roll her in cotton, | wool and feed her with a gold spoon. | Andy would practically kill his wife | with kindness. | “Andy, how can you say such a {thing to me?” Bobbie asked him, and the look she gave him was blighting. “How can you talk to me |about such fool things as church | bazaars and china painting when I have a real career mapped out for myself 2" “You mean the movies?” He gave | her a sidewise look from his eyes, | that seemed to measure. her. She nodded her corn-colored head. “That's not a career to be com- pared with being [dp’)s from the back of magazines, | | Andy in that quiet sure way of his. | | “Suppose you do go ahead and | make a big success of it. You say you | have a good start.” “I have a wonderful start. Eve body says &o,” Bobble told him ex- | eitedly. “I haven't been in Holly- wood more than three weeks, | Roy Schultz has given me a little bit of my own in a picture. He had a | screen test made of me, too!"” | Naturally Andy had heard of Roy | Schultz. Bobbie had been dragging him to the movies for years, and | pointing out the names of big direc- I tors and players. Oh, yes, Andy knew |in a minute who Roy Schultz was, | and his eyes narrowed with jealousy. | “Is he a married man, or a bache- {lor?” he asked abruptly, and Bobby laughed. “Married to a woman he's wild about, you silly gob!” she cried. | “But—ne has an assistant director, a | bachelor, who thinks pretty well of your Bobby, if yon must know.” She | made eyes at Andy as she said it, but | he was too busy glowering at the | sunlit wall to see her. [ “His name's Angus MacCloud. | Tsn't that a nice name?” She repeat- led MacCloud’s name. It gave her a | certain mourful joy to say it. Then all at once she leaned close to Andy, and her fingers tightened {on his. “Oh, I want to go back to | Hollywood—I'm just plain terrible- 1awful homesick for it— but I hate to go away from home, too.” She did, toco. Home scemed 8o | peacetul, so qulet, so heavenly now | that her father was going to break {up h eping. And yet when she closed her eyes and thought of the white walls of the Magnifica Studios rising against the sunny blue s she felt that she must go back to them again, “Oh, I don't know what T want to do!” she wailed, as many an- other woman has wailed hefore her. , We are an uncertain fickle lot, we | women—changeable as the wind. | “I do know then!” Andy said, and | pulled her up close to him with a quick violent movement of his arnms. | “I do know! Youw're a normal natur- | al woman, old enough to be marricd | —and that's what you want to do. | Yowll never be happy or satisficd {until you do it. Until you sweep all [ these wild ideas out of your head!” She pushed him away from her. { “T never could marry you, Andy. I 1 just like a r toward you,' told him, strugsling to keep him length, “I found that out, | ! sting,” Andy re- ‘You see, T met a man that I— | dian't feel sisterly toward, 'she ex | plained to him, and though her | words were all twisted, her meaning { was as clear as glass to Andy. “I | found out that there is a man in the I cor- | rlc “FIRE! FIRE!" 1926 married,” sald | and | Beatrice "HONEY LOU"ETe. world-—well, I think perhaps I could | give up my career for him. “Marry him?” Andy asked, cool and business-like. “You can talk to me about him if you want to. I won't annoy you any more.” - Bobbie put her head to one side. “l don't know whether he’s the marrying kind or not. He strikes me as being too selfish to marry anyone. He's selfish and spolled and crazy about himself. He's not a bit like any man 1 ever saw before. You'd probably hate him." “I would. He sounds just like one of those Hollywood parlor pinks that we read about in the newspapers. T'll bet a hat that he wears a wrist watch and runs around bare-headed and in a colored shirt and Kknickers. I know the kind.” Bobbie i4t her lips. Angus Mac- Cloud did wear a wristwatch, and | he did wear knickers and run around without a hat. She wondered how on earth Andy had guessed all that. He certainly had struck the nail on the head. “Bam!" she sald aloud, and got up to clear off the breakfast things. | Both she and Andy forgot the cup of | coftee that he had come for, in the | beginning. e s | By the first of November Bobble | was back at Mrs. Mangan's. She got there on a’ gray windy afternoon, let herself in with her | front door key, and went straight | up the stairs to her room. H And what a room it was! Tt had | | been neatness and order when Bob- | bie left compared to what it was | now. | “I domt belleve Monlca has touched it since I left!” Bobbie | wailed inwardly as she stood inside | | the door and looked at it. | It looked as it comeone had beat- | en it up with a giant-size egg beater. |Clothes were tossed everywhere. | There was even a pink silk shirt | hanging to the head of the bed. | Among the powder, the rouge, the bottles of perfume, the brushes and the combs on the dresser was a dried | |loat of the brown reducing bread |that Monica nibbled when her hun- | ger pangs became too severe. Monica fought a constant fight agalnst chins. | There was a bag of ripe oranges on the table in the center of the | Some of them had begun to rot in- side the bag, and the paper was wet with thelr juice. Beside it lay a small | half-emptied perfume flask. The | perfume had trickled from the | flask, and made a large white stain on the varnished table-top. | Under the bed were pinkish lav- ender boxes—hat boxes, suit boxes, a |long narrow box with the end of a | white fox scarf hanging from one end and trailing out across the car- | pet. |" Bobble dragged out the boxes, one |after another. In one of them was & dinner dress, heavily beaded In pea- | cock blue, In another was a pale blue negligee crusted with silver em- broldery. The fox scarf was long and smooth and fine—an expensive thing. There were six tiny felt hats in [the two hat boxes—smart little |things with fewcled pins stuck |through them, “Ior cat's sake! Monica's been | gold-digaing deep this time!” she said to herself with a kind of re- spect. “She sure is a high-stepper!” Monica was a high-stepper, and no mistake. At least where clothes and restaurants and things like that were concerned. She stepped very | high indeed, when it came to things | that she wanted for herself. “Where in the dickens do you suppose she got ail this loot?” Bob- bie asked herself, holding one of the littie French felt hats in her ‘hands. It hadn't cost a penny less than thirty dollars—not in the store where the pinky-lavender boxes came from! And she knew it | As it in answer to her unspoken question, the door behind her flew open and a gay voice called to her from the threshold: ‘‘Well, Bob- bins—you old sweet good-for-noth- ing! Coming without even sending wire! Weren'lt you snooty to Monica! Nobody else used such heavy perfume! No one else had such a voice! And certainly no other girl of Bobble's acquaintance used a word like “snooty’” the way most girls would use the word “horrid.” And then she turned and saw Monica, and her eyes grew wide and round and full of puzzlement, CHAPTER XXII ‘Wealth and prosperity seemed to have descended upon Monica, like a showerof gold. From head to toe she spoke of money—and she spoke of it loudly! To begin with, there was a brand- new black satin turban on her small head. None of your quiet little tur-, bans, but a gleaming lustrous one with a great rhinestone arrow stuck through its folds. Then, she had a black seal coat trimmed with monkey fur wrapped around her slender body. Below it her beautiful slim legs were sheath- ed with the thinnest of thin chiffon stockings, and upon her satin slip- pers were what must have been the largest palr of rhinestone buckles ever made. There were four or five rows of pearl choker beads around her neck. There were more of them on one of her wrists. And upon her breast were pinned five white velvet gar- denjas—the kind that cost three dol- lars apicce in speclalty shops. Monica never did things by halves. There were white kid gloves on Monica’s hands, and from one wrist dangled a black-and-white beaded bag. She was all black and white—all but her face with its startling blue eyes, its tan and coral skin, and its lips that were painted a bright shade of scarlet. But for all her black-and-white- ness, and in spite of all the money she had spent upon herself, Monica did not look like a lady even now. She looked just what she was— rather common, keen, impudent, and gay. What people wused to call a “high stepper” back in the early days of American slang. She laughed a little, showing her sharp little white teeth, as she saw Bobbie's eyes run over her grandeur. Then she turned slowly on one heel like a clothes model. “Well, do I look like a boulevard | shop or don’'t I?” she asked loudly and cheerfully. You sure do,” Bobble assured her, “but where did you get all thé money?"” She knew that Monica had been stony broke two weeks before. “Money ?” asked Monica innocent- ly. “Who said anything about money? I haven't any money, honey. A job is what T have. A darned good job—and a job means credit.” “Did you charge all this stuff?” asked Bobble, taking in Monica's | clothes and all the orchid-colored boxes under the bed, with a sweep of her arm. Monica nodded. ‘“Nothing else but,” she answered calmly. “You know I've been telling you that Roy Schultz was going to give me a fun- ny bit in his next picture? Well, there was a plece in the Hollywood | paper about it the other day, with | my photograph. And since then, my | credit's been fine. Because all the| shops know I'm going to have plenty ot money pretly soon. See?” Bobble nodded and looked at the white fox scarf, the fur coat, the bespangled evening dresses and chif- fon underwear. Monica must be ex- pecting a great deal of money In the near future, to go ahead and charge things as she had. “I know something about some of these people we see flying around town in imported automobiles and ermine coats,” Monica went on, “For every dollar they carn, they spend twenty—and you watch your little Monlca follow suit.” She took off the sealskin and tossed it on the bed. “‘Many a fur coat hides an empty pocket,’” she quoted, “and you can’t judge anything by appear- ances in Hollywood!"” She leaned over Bobble and put| her arms around her, and kissed her on the top of her shining golden | head. | “Well, there's one thing not many | of them have, anyway,” she said soothingly. “Thera’s not many of 'em got your looks, Bobbie. I'd give all my earnings for the next six months for your halr and your eye: “Nonsense!” Bobble shook her head. But she knew that there was something in what Monlca had said, nevertheless. Monica herself, for example, had a mud-colored complexion under her paint and powder. Her only claim to good looks was her eyes. She was, as she said herself—'"As homely as a hedge fence.” But she was funny, A born come- dienne. It wasn't so much what she said that put people into gales ot laugh- ter, but the way she sald it and the way she looked when she said it. It was a gift. “I see you still have your radio,” Bobbie said to her, when she had looked at all of the new clothes and was trying to straighten the room a bit. “Oh, yes—'" Monica slanted her eyes toward it in a bored sort of way. “It needs new batterfes, and they won't come and put them in until I pay something down on it.! So I just think I'll let them have it back. I'm tired of it, anyway. I can buy myself a really good one now, anyway. ‘What Monica meant when she said | she could “buy” something, was that she could open an account and charge it—and then pay for it. May- be. “I'd take you out to supper, only I have a date with Ted Piper,” she said now, “I just ran in to put a drop of perfume on my hanky—'" And she emptied half an ounce on it. It was a new brand, Bobble no- ticed, sniffing. And it was even stronger and more pungent than the “Subtil” kind had been. It smeclled lilke banana oil flavored with clove- carnations. It was terrible, When Monica had gone, Bobbie looked at the label on the bottle. It bore the legend “Night of Egypt.” “Well, it's going to spend a night out-of-doors, for a change,” Bobbie 84id to hereelf, and set the bottle out on the window ledge. She wished that Monica would move into a room of her own, now coat her pocket! “I wonder who gave her that new part of hers,” Bobble mused, starting down the stairs to the kitchen to get her supper. “I wondsr if Roy Schultz did, or Gus MacCloud—I1 wonder.” Behind the closed door at the énd of the downstairs hall she could hear Mrs. Mangan banging pans and kettle covers as she got supper. She went to the telephone and gave the number of Gus MacClouds house, very softly. A man's voice answered her. It sounded as if it might be the voice of Gus's Japanese servant, “Mr. MacCloud gone out. Not home till pretty late, I think,” it said. “What name I tell him?"” “No name,” Bobbie sald, and hung up the receiver. As she did it, the door of the kitchen opened and Mrs. Mangan came out looking just as dowdy and down-at-the-heel as always, But a smile that was lovely and young lighted up her wrinkled face when she saw Bobbie. “Well, it's our dearie _home again!” said Mrs. Mangan, as if she and Bobbie had been close friends for years. “And it's nice to hear your voice, and to see you again. I'm just throwing together a bite of supper. You come along and we'll have it to- gether. There's no one but us at home tonight.” Bhe put her arm around Bobbie and they went into the kitchen that looked like a kitchen in a picture book. "J?dn't I hear you calling Mr. MacCloud just now?” she asked in a sort of absent-minded way she had. “Yes, you did.” Didn't you know he just came here for Miss Mont?” Mrs. Mangan asked. Her back was to Bobbie now, as she leaned over the table, cutting up tomatoes for salad. “No. “I saw him from parlor window,"” Mrs. Mangan answered. “Will you have French dressing on your salad or a bit of mayonnaise?"” “Eithér.” Bobble scarcely knew what she said. She was wondering why Monica had said she was going out to dinner with someone named “Ted Piper.” Why had Monica lied to her? And how come that Monica and Gus MacCloud were such great friends, all at once? She could remember the day, less than a month ago, when Monica had tartly told her what a snob Mac- Cloud was, and how he had forgotten such old friends as herself and Stel- l1a Delroy, now that he'd become an assistant director. Teeling sick and mlserable, she went to bed early. At nine or nine- thirty she gf:ar Stella come in and shut the dodr of her room. But she did not call out to her, At two o'clock when Monica tip toed into the room and undressed without turning on the light, she was sound asleep. “Why don’t you come out to the studio with me?” Monica asked her the next morning. “I've got to go, to get fitted for some clothes—and I've got such a drag out there now that I can take you in with me.” So Bobbie went. She went because she wanted to see Angus MacCloud. She dldn’t care actly. But she just wanted to look at him. It had been a long time since she had seen his blue eyes, his rough red-blond halr, and his quick smile. She felt as if she were aching, just with wanting to lay eyes on him again, “I'm a silly thing!” she sald cross- ly to herself, but she went. She walted for Monica in & bare little dressing room off the ward- robe room. It was the dressing room where Bobbie, herself, had tried on the shell-pink ballet dancer's dress a few weecks before— and she remem- bered how wildly happy she had felt, turning in front of the mirror. There had been no love affair with Gus MacCloud then, to make her miser- able and full of a childish longing to cry. She had been sitting thers for ten or fifteen minutes when the door suddenly burst open, and Monica stood in the opening. Her eyes were wild and she danced up and down in the short “Sis Hopkins” apron she wore. “Bobbie! Fire! Fire!"she scream- ed at the top of her voice. “LOOK!” There was smoke pouring from every window of the building next door— the low white frame building where the extras-dressing rooms were, Monica seized her by the hand, and together they rushed out of the dressing room and down the stairs to the wide driveway in front of the bullding. Someone had turned a hose on it, and someone else was throwing clothes and suitcases out of the windows. “How did it start?” Monica shriek- ed to a couple of electriclans— “juicers,” as she called them—who were standing nearby. She was still jumping up and down like a me- chanieal toy, in her excitement. Then all at once she stopped and stood stock still as two men came out of the smoking building, carry- ing llmp figure in a blue checked dress, Bobble caught a glimpse of a white face, a mop of red halr, and a blackened arm hanging from the blue-frocked figure. Stella!"” she said aloud. She put her hands to her temples, pressing them hard as she ran forward. “Dear God! It's Stella!” She heard Monfca crying beside her, as she came up to the pile of burlap where the two men were lay- Ing Estelle Delroy, whose name real- | 1y was Stella Riges. Monica was wringing her hands and saying the same thing over and over and over. “Thank God, I'm not in her shoes. Thank God, it's not me!” That is what Monlca was saying! (TO BE CONTINUED) Stella in-the next chapter of “Holly wood Girl.” Louis XIV deserved the titla of “grand monarch” for his treatment of doctors. cost him $200,000. Quick relief from pain. Prevent shoe :ol:nure. Atall drug and stores that she as going to make some money. But she didn’'t know Monica SHE SCREAMED, —Monica never went anywhere if it was going to mean money out of DrScholl’s whether she got a | chance to speak to him or not, ex-| | Bobble hears a thing or two from ; He was subjected to an | operation for fistula in 1686, which | Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of Iliness (BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN) Editor Journal of the American Medical Assoclation and of Hygela . the Health Magazine. When the Curies first announced the discovery of radium, medical sclence greeted the announcement with great optimism. Here was a new and potent sub- stance which unquestionably had definite effects upon tissues when applled directly, and which th:re- fore might apparently be used for all eorts of conditions. Leaders of medicine in Germany and Austria suggested the use of radium for rheumatism, .gout, inflamed joints, neuritis, neuraigia and all sorts of pains generally. Not only was the radium used through drinking water containing the emanation of radium, but also by exposure, in epecial emanatori- ums, directly to the inhalation of the radium emanation. Optimistic at First Fifteen years ago all sorts of op= timistic reports appeared on the use of radium. Manufacturers began to develop radlum emanators which were supposed 16 contain radium in their walls and to have the power of activating the water within them by the emanation. These were sold both to the phy= sician and to the public with the claims that they would greatly bene- fit high blood pressure and other diseases that have been mentioned. Recent investigations just completed by the physicians mentioned and controlled by the study of other cases not treated by these methods are disappointing. A person who I3 suffering from a chronic diseases and who is besieged with offers to sell him expensive radium apparatus for drinking ra= dium water or inhaling radlum emanation will do well to consult scientific advice before making any, such outlay. There are, moreover, numerous radium devices which do not provide enough radium to have even the slightest appreciable effect. The American Medical Associa« tion, 535 North Dearborn St., Chi- cago, I8 glad to give information concerning the reliability for any any such radium devices. Small patterned silk tles are the smartest for men. These are red oval dots outlined In black on a yellow background. FLAPPER FANNY SAYS:! 1527 BY NEA SERVICE, NG AEG.U. 3. PAT. OFF. The well-dressed girl doesn't need much of this world's goods. TREE-TOD STORIES MOTHER'S FACE Y Mother's face is SO soft!” Marjorie said. She had just been sitting on Mother's “1 think she is the most beau- tiful lady in the world. I'm glad she doesr't have another kind of nose. And her cheeks have smooth places for my fingers to e down. “I wonder what my Mother looked like when she was a little irl. l[: mubt have beeg such a ong, long time ago, She has been grown up all my life...and... | guess she couldn't ever have been a wee baby! “But Ol | AM w0 glad she's MY Mother!™