The Seattle Star Newspaper, September 26, 1921, Page 9

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER APER ‘an (Continued From Saturday) Mr. Fergerson dropped back Into Into his deep chair: he looked rather @tim. Rorle paced we coxy room| With agitated steps; from time t time he glanced at the lawyer, a! Mest suspiciously it seemed. Pres ‘@Atly he came to an abrupt stand in front of him. “Have you heard anything down Qt Bedmund?" he asked suddenly “Anything fresh, 1 mean,” Old Fergerson met his gaze com Tit you believe I am keeping any from you why not go down Make your own inquiries?" he deliberately. ing Briton turned away with an gesture. mever want to go near the S@ again.” he sald, impulsively Rt ts possible to sell Four Winds ts do 80, and buy a place in Py “It is not possible, unfortunately,” ened Mr. Fergerson smooth!y estate ty entailed." His volce d all at once; he rose to bis laid a hand on the young arm. “Roderick, when are going to make something out of fe? When are you going to flinging your youth and money YY. and do somethig in the world fs worth while? You told me ‘the poor little girl—your wife you ashamed because you to her: and I tell you now Such influence as hers ts the you need. You want a woman ® brave, true-hearted woman—to pw you the way-—not a doll!—not ‘with no mind above the things can buy her. Your &re filled with opportunities, Rederick; are you going to let them ‘fall to the ground?” Young Briton had flushed a little, he stood staring in front of him hard eyes. He had never sup that old Fergerson would ch” at him—he resented it nd it hit hard, too, that Teminder of Rosalie. Rorie under the blow. vividly that night In the sod. field outside the huge canves came back to him, and Rosalie her flapping goloshes and ugly coat and paper roses! She bad shamed him then with her) ery and pluck—he wondered she would think of him now, she know! “hit ae conscious of a sudden | in his throat, as in a the scene of his memories He was out in the coun. Toad leading from Bedmund, ng with Rosalie at the cro» where he had set her down their marriage. He could see timid eyes raised to his—sho never shown fear of him before the soft touch of her hands on aheuiders. Q “Whatever happens, I shall always glad you married me—whatever then— 3 . id old Fer- id softly to himeelf; “I think I take the risk.” CHA x1 Briton went off down: the ‘at a furious pace. of the afternoon when the of the circus band had drawn to follow in the steps of the! ¢ he shivered as if with ‘et the memory. He wondered /a@ kind of desperation if would ever allow him to for. mad folly of that one week. ‘xi creeping up the road over. him. The driver, with an eye possible fare, leaned forward m his seat and hailed him. “Taxi, Briten hesitated—then he ADVENTURES OF “Hey, there!” called Away went the Twins thru the toward the bay where Mr. had his big net spread to catch as many of the Wiggle- Raipeovie as he could. Nancy hadn't trouble at all unhooking two of corners and Nick shouldered the two and swam away as easily ru the water as tho he were lift ing the mosquito netting off the 's bed. | “Hey, there!” called out a volce, pharply. “What are you here are you taking us? You are the fisherman, are you? The Twins looked beck and were u ined to find that they had ever | bo many creatures prisoners in their shrimps, prawns, crabs and fish of all kinds. ‘The person talking was the queer- ever, a big flat fellow with a nus their voices with aston- it and did not answer at once. would you feel, my dears, if Rights Reserved + doing? | of a tall and two funny eyes | top of him, Really he was #0) that Nancy and Nick 26, 192 ! Seeeccccccescccccesecesese . ROSES” M. AYRES “AN right* He opened the door, “Where to, sir? Roderick did moment, then he flung up h with a sort of reckiohe: address in a loud, Weflant v Forty-five ldersiey Gardens West The taxi sped off thru the warm Rorle leaned back in Bis seat stared out of the window with eyes | not answer for a head v Ave the ce in night and nse | He did not know what impulse had him give Lilian f ad dress. Ho knew it was unlikely that she would be at home; he wa: ing morning dress, and great Mony Was always observed at lider» ley Gardens But somehow he did not care nothing seemed to matter very much He felt as he had done the day when his father’s will had teen read, when he had dashed off to find Rosalie, his selfish desire to secure to him. | self one friend. } When he found himself on the Fanes' doorstep a sudden unaccount able nervousness selzed him. | He had not seen Lillian since that night she kissed him goodbye when old Fergersan’s wire had summoned him down te Four Winds to bis father’s deathbed, He had not swered her letter of dismineal; had not even told her of his renewed for tunes emorse and respect for Romalic had kept him away, when perhaps desire might have driven him; but he had oft@n pictured their meeting her abandon of delight when he told her that there was no longer anything to prevent their marriage Marriage! Memory was at her tricks again; had forced him back into the little out-oftheway church, where the autumn leaves blew about the graves outside, and the chill rain drops pattered down on the tomb stones like tears, He could feel the frembling of Rosalie’s little hand in his, hear her timid voice, and the wheezy responses of the verger from behind. That had been his mar riage, all binding; how could he even | contemplate another, with the mem Jory of that tragedy fresh in his heart? He rang the bell with a furious hand. He felt somehow afraid of the night and the silent street When the door was opened he stepped Into the hall without waiting to be asked. The servant knew him. She looked at him doubtfully. She ad- mitted that Miss Fane was in, but would Mr. Briton please walt unti!— But Roderick would not wait; he! crossed the hall towards the drawing: | |room. As he neared it the door opened and Lillian Fane herself stood on the threshold. She fel back @ pace when she sw young Briton. She gave a little cry| —"Rorie?* | He followed her into the room, and shutting the door stood with his back to ft. | “You did not expect to see ma," he said, breathieasty. His heart was racing—he was pale to the lps. She looked at him acrom the width of the room: there was a Little frown between her brows. “You ought not to have come here. I ex-, plained in my letter.” “I know. It's not that I've come for, but to ask you a question. Are) you engaged to Querne?™ There was a little silence, Ligian | Fane let the silken wrap fall from | her shoulders. It elipped to the thick | carpet with a pleasant little soughing |mound. She stood there with the |ehaded famplight playing on her, i bare throat and beautiful | fade. She wore a clinging Gress of palest amber silk and a cluster of yellow hothouse roses at her breast: there was a golden ofnament tn her dark) hair, a magnificent diamond star gieamed in the lace of her low gown. | Young Briton knew that star: ft was one of the many extravagances he had lavished upon her In the early i days of his infatuation. | an’ answered him a little haugh- | tly: } | “I don't know what you mean by! coming here, and questioning me in this manner. What is it to do with you if I~" He strode across the room, seized her wrists, “It's everything to do with me. I love you, and you said you loved me. ma: ane’s wear in ‘ and out a voice, sharply the door-mat should suddenly ad, | dress yo a sort of three cornered | |kite-shaped doormat with one long | raveling of a tall? “lL say,” repeated the creature |sharply, “you are not Mr. Fisher- man, are you? And why are you taking his net away?” | “We—we are helping Cap'n Penny-| | winkle,” stammered Nancy, for the [creature looked so fierce she was frightened. “He wants the net.” “So do 1," snapped the creature. “And you are taking my dinner with | |you. I eat a dozen shrimps and a} |dozen crabs and a dozen prawns for |my lunch and you are preventing \me from having them, I'ny’ Mr.! | Flatfish Flounder.” | | He said it as importantly as tho |he were announcing that he were the president. “But how do Nancy. "Oh, that's eas Flounger. “I know a way.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle Star) you get in?” asked answered the | mitionatre! lwhat poverty tx neath it she felt herself small and | his side, THE SEA DOINGS OF THE DUFFS "'M GOING TO LEAVE IN Five MINUTES HONEY WELL DEAR.) WISH you'd STOP aT THE MARKET AND GET DORIS THIS SPE SOME, MEAT ANO THINGS AND V'Lh COOK OUR FIRST DINNER FOR US - Answer me! Are you engaged to! Querne or not? | He looked very fierce and master full and yet there was something al most pathetically boyish about too, Lillian Fane was years o than he in things of worldly wis dom; but for all her selfposseasion « sudden splash of color dyed ber face “Rorte, you mustn't.” Her voice shook a Nttle—there is always some thing in @ masterful man that peals to the strongest woman, “You know you mustn't. Go away—go away.” “I will go when you ave answered me. Are you engaged to Querne or nor . She looked past him towards the door, almost timidty it seemed; then she rained her eyes to his face. “Yes—I am.” ‘There was a tragic silence. Then Rorie loosened his grasp of her wrists. He looked a little daged, ax if he had not quite understood. He forced a laugh. Lillian looked down at her wrists resentfully. There was a red mark on the white flesh whero his fingers had grasped her. | “You've hurt me,” she said, com- Plainingty. | Korie made no answer. He turned towards the door. j She watched him from under her Jong jashes, and suddenly she! thought of Bartlett Querne, who waa neither young, nor tall, nor good to look at, as Korte was, but—only a and for a second her Worldly heart contracted with an unusual pain. “Rorte™ She spoke his name softly, She rose to her feet and crossed the room rapidly, catching his arm as he wax about to open the, door, “Rorie, don't go like that! I couldn't bear to be poor—but 1 do love you—you know I do! Young Briton stood quite still “If you did—you would not mind being poor,” he said. Old Ferger son's words were coming back to him, with their sting of truth, | “I should.” Lillian's soft fingers! stole down to his hand. “And so would you! You wouldn't love me if I had to wear the same frock all day and every day, and cheap shoes and ugly hats. Ob, I know you think you would—that ts what ail the men say; but you wouldn't Teally! You're just as selfish as I am. I know how you must have hated it when you knew about your father’s wif. Oh, poor Rorie. 1) was so sorry for you. I cried myself! sick with disappointment. 1 know I've had to live in it all my life. Mother and I are in debt for the very clothes we wear nd the food we eat. We couldn't live at all if the horrid people didn't | believe I was going to marry Querne. | It was just the same before your father died. Rorle: they only trusted us because they believed I should mdrry you, ond they knew you would be a rich man. When that dregdtul will was known they came down on us like a lot of sharks, I had to encourage Quefne in sheer self-defense. It's impossible, utterly impossible, for me to marry a poor man.” \ “But, supposing I was not a poor! man?” | Rorle asked this question tn an odd voice. He remembered that Lil ian had not yet heard of the finding of the second will. She dropped his hand, and) shrugged her white shoulders, | “What is the use of ‘supposing? ”| she asked, with a touch of irritabil ity. “We're not living in a fairy | story.” She glanced at him. “I| wish we were,” she added. | Rorie turned; he took her face be-} tween his hands and looked down into her beautiful eyes with sudden wistfulness in his own, The scent of the roses she wore mounted gid ily to his head—real roses there, | he told himself blindly, not’ faded) paper imitations. | “And you don't love me well) enough to do without the money?"| he asked. She tried found hig gaze disconcerting. to free’ herself: she Be don’t understand,” restleasly, “You mean. But--'Yo was all she said, don't understand.” Young Briton let his hands fall to “{ think I understand—too well,” he eald, in a choking voice, He looked at her and thought of Rosalie Dean; she had been only too willing to face the prospect of hardship and poverty for his sake. For almost the first time he wor dered if she had really cared for} him; gratitude he knew she had felt, | but had there been anything more than that in her child's heart? He could not bear to think of it; but} ail at once it seemed as if there was an impassable barrier between him: | self and this woman who was to marry Bartlett Querne, The rich WON'T THAT DOES BANQUET P TTLE STARe Their First ns OW HONEY. THIS WILL BE WONDERFUL! — as pA VES-YES- IN . A JPY Page 478 SUPPOSE David tried not to look as, dis appointed as he felt when the father and mother of the min- ister-man got home. But he couldn't, he just couldn't help thinking how much more in- | teresting it would have been if Ed and litte Charley had been left all alone that cold night. His mind was hop-skipping along on a trall of its own and he was only half listening to the voice of the ministerman as he went on with the story, but he came to with a start when he realized that the danger part of the story was still to come. “The river was freezed?” Peggy had exclaimed. “Then how could you ride on ft {n the little boats?” “That was what made it so serious,” the minister-man contin- ued, “We couldn't ride on it in little boats. “And nobody else could come up or down it in little boats. We were cut off, absolutely cut off from any other human beings. “All night the snow fell thick and soft, and morning dawned cold and grey with the snow still falling. The ground was white and every tree wore a crest of the beautiful snow. THEY HAD! (Chapter 4) . “The rough fences were turned into things of beauty and the rude outbuildings might have served for palaces for snow fairies. “Father came stamping in just as we walked, with a very serious | face. “The snow ts 18 Inches deep,’ he said. ‘And that makes it im- possible for any of the cattle to graze. They'll have to be fed.’ “Fed? mother exclaimed, ‘why so they will. How much hay have we dear? “‘About three tons,” answered, ‘and with the frozen over there is no chance of getting more even if some man has a ton or so to spare. “We can only hope and trust that this uncommon weather will last only @ few days.’ “Well, we hoped. We hoped and we watched and still the snow fell at intervals till it lay four feet on the level. “Every day or two brought a tragedy among the cattle, too. One after another died, frozen to “death, till only 23 of. the 50 were left and our own food supply was almost gone.” (To Be Continued) father river Is eeecceceneceencenes #8 TB cee Persian rug at their feet seemed to narrow down to the size and shape | of a grave. Young Briton shivered ae if with sudden foreboding, “T think I'll be going,” he said, un certainly. “But not like that, Rorte! fo away like that! Won't won't you just kiss me, Rorte?’ She came a step toward him, To his excited imagination she seemed to stand on the brink of that dividing grave. He flung out his hand as if to gerd her off. Don't yeu “Don't! Don't!" “Rorie!’ There was a sort of fear in her voice: his eyesglooked so wild, his face so pale. The door opened suddenly, and | Lillian's mother came into the room. She stood quite still, looking from |one to the other. “Roderick! You here! Her voice was an odd mixture of surprise and doubtful ploasure. It sounded almost as if she wére not sure whether she ought to be glad to see him or not a at Home LOOK, SWEETHEART’ | FOUND A FRVING PAN HONEY, DO You LIKE Your STEAK RARE? NOUR FRILL’ A POSTCARD, WAS LEFT FoR TH’ DENTIST BY Now, SHE'LL GIVE ME TH’ TOSS FoR THis! OH Gee | TO HAVE PAGE 9 FORGOT THE GAS TURNED On! T DON'T WANT [T IN A JIFFY ~T WANT IT IN A WELL, YDONT SAV? OF ALLTTHINGS= OW-SAY, I MUST TELL YoU = I GOT A TAR OF ORIENTAL MASSAGE - CREAM “TODAY = “THE. CLERK “TOLD MOVIE STARS USE ITs ie ME ALL THE GIVES THAT UH-WuH = LETS SEE, WHAT NOUTHFUL BLOOM = WAS 1GONIG TD SAY 2s au VANISHING WHEN A WOMAN TELLS By RUTH AGNES ABELING (Copyright 1921 by Seattle Star) CHAPTER XLV—I HEAR A SCREAM IN THE DAWN! I had always betieved that If once a woman had been one of the prim- roses blossoming by the way await- ing the touch of any hand in the dusk—she could not lift her face to the morning! | “If you could get the straight story from most erring women,” said Grace, philosaphizing on Mrs, Ames’ conduct, “you would find that there is in the past of every one of them at least one man who has begged em to say that his love was the first! “Some of them do lie—and some of them don’t, probably because |there was someone somewhere for | She was & stout, rather over. laressea woman, with a pucker of anxiety between eyes that smiled de- |terminedly at a hostile world. She looked from Lillian to young Briton as if asking for explanations, Roderick laughed. s, I'm here, Mra, Fane; but IT jwas just going. I am only sorry I jever came,” He went away without another word or look at Lillian—leaving the | two women staring at one another. Lillian was the first to move, She dropped into a chair,and began to sob shallowly. ’ “He's been saying such dreadful |things to me, mother, He hurt my | wrists, As if I could marry a man |who has no money, It’s all very well ‘to talk about love, but love won't pay Louise's bill and that horrid man Ecclestein. I think life is simply hateful. Why can't Rorie ‘have Bartlett's money?” Mrs. Fane came forward into the | circle of firelight. She looked at her | daughter's bowed head. “He hasn't told you, then?” he asked, rather sharply. | Lillian looked up. ‘There were only very faint signs of tears on her ce. “Told me what? she asked. “Why, that there’s been another will found, leaving everything to him. I only heard this afternoon my- |self, Heavens! Lillian, you'll be a Lillian was erying in earnest now— even if they were only tears of rage. Mrs. Fane stood silent, nervously twisting a dmmond chain which hung from her neck. She was wen dering if, after a}, Lillian had such a thing as a heart amongst ber various possessions, ‘ | nice sight if you ery like that,” for) whom they did care, and who failed them. And self-revelation is balm to their scorched souls—they do not want to lie about it. | “But women can come back, and |they do, every day thru the medium of the wedding ring—if they will let the truth go untold,” Grace | added, | “Putting it that way, you have} not made it’quite clear whether you | think coming back is a virtue or a v "1 satd “It is simply a condition. And it isn't any different with men. I can't | see that we really have a double moral standard, for when you sim-| |mer it down it is all the same, If @ man confesses that be has a past, he has created doubt. If a woman con- fesses that she has a past, she has jereated doubt. «And a man who is! | not believed in is just as unhappy as | the woman who is not believed in. So this talk of a double moral standard is all rot! | “The big difference, as T see it” {continued Grace, “ig not in the way | |the world views either the man or | woman, but in the way they consider themselves. “A man loges the consciousness of his wrongdoing—-while with a woman it sticks, and that self-contempt is worse than anything else. “That is why I tried to spare Mrs. Ames—she will have enough of it |when she does wake up. She will} }feel that every woman is pointing her finger at her—when in reality |they will have forgotten.” “Why didn’t you lie, G you met Tom, for instance when I real- ce, she said presently, | meditatively, “Roderick isn't as rich as Bartlett Querne, but hi rich enough, and Four Winds is a lovely old place—-the pictures alone are worth a small fortune. Lillian! will you stop ofying? You know we've got to Ko outairecty. A nice object you'll look."" But Lillian would not be com. forted. “I have never loved anyone but Rorie,” she sobbed, “and T know I never shall.” She would have be n| highly” indignan® had it been’ sug! gested to her that her love had only! grown to great magnitude during} | the last five minutes, since she had j heard of the finding of that second (wil, (Continued Tomorrow) “Of course,” ized the cruelty of my words; yet f couldn't resist trying to learn more of what had passed between Tom and Grace. Ss “Because—he never asked me to tell it,” she sald frankly. 1 caught the pain in her volee; yet her answer thrilled me. ‘ “You will find, some day, Miss Som ensen, that there are men with ideals was one of them. “Yes,” there was a trace of bit+ terness in her voice. “I tried to vamp him, I tried every trick of my trade, but—he was trick-proof!? An edd smile curled her lips. In the silence that followed 1 heard the front door bang shut and slow steps come up the stairs. “Who ts it?" asked Grace, strange ly afraid, “I don't know," I said. “But it isn’t unusual for some one to come here—so why look so frightened?” The words were no more than spoken when I heard a scream from Lila Ames’ room. * (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle Star) I's good, that's sure, 40c Supreme Blend. Coffee, Hansen, 40 he Market. Mother, bring home some of Boldt's Milk Bread!—-Advertisement It Is Easy to Lose An — Unsightly Complexion Have you ever exclaimed as 4 beheld your complexion in the oe ror, “If 1 only could tear off this old’ skin!” And, do you know you can do that very thing? Not to acts ually remove the entire akin all of a Sudden: that would be too bh @ method, and painful, too, worn-out cuticle comes off au Uny. particles, and 80 grad ait dogan't hurt a bit. Little by the beautiful complexion unde: comes fol Marvelous! 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