The evening world. Newspaper, September 19, 1914, Page 9

The 10918, by Louie Jeemph Vasce,) W i] r i ‘i ¥2 iit i ih tik F es | a} By 2 i i i k i @rentuste in their marriage, drinking, ond one day while they ra s f ii He made understudy of the star tn "Mr, Miner,” and later ‘Mace star, Mecnwhtie Matthiaa's play pene ile iit #e “Tomorrow's People,” The night it Mattbiaa gues to ee Joan's in- ‘ig'eygaemad im her stellar role, She scores zi —_ XVI. towed.) AUSING 1 in the lobby to light ®@ cigarette before leaving Matthias overheard one of Arlington's lieutenants con- fiding to another the new: of the rulnous failure of the third Initial production of that night—tho play in which Nella Cardrow atarrod. Half an hour later he met Wilbrow by appointment in a quiet, non-the- atrical club, and received from him confirmation of rumors which had already reached him of his ow: trigmph with “To-Morrow's People.” “You're a made man now," Wilbrow told him, with sincere good will and some little honest envy; “by to-mor- row morning the pack will be at your heels, yapping for a chance to put on every old script in your trunk.” “I suppose so,” Matthias nodded, aoberly. “But there's one comfort about that,” Wilbrow pursued, cheerfully: “whatever the temptation, you won't give ‘em anything but sound, sane, workmanlike stuff. You've proved yourself one of the two or three, at most, playwrights in this country who are able to think and to make an audience think without losing sight of the fact that, In the last analysis, ‘the play’s the thing. We've got plenty of authors nowr “ays who can turm out first-chop melodrama, and we've got a respectable percentage of ‘em who write plays #o full of honest and intelligent thought that it gives the average manager a headache to look at the script; but the men who can give us the sort of drama that not only makes you think but holds you on the front edge of your seat waiting to eee what's coming next. * @ © Well, they're few and far between, and you're one of ‘em, and 'm proud to have had a hand in putting you before the public!" “You've gqt nothing on me, there,” Matthias grinned; “I'm proud you had, And if I can get my own way after this"-—- ‘You don't need to join the Should-Worries on account of that “You'll be the only man who will ever produce one of my plays.” Between 1 o'clock and 2 they parted. Matthias trudged home, completely ‘agged in body, but with a buoyant heart to sustain him. Venetia would lim. ee He was ascending the steps of No. 289 when @ heavy touring car, coming from the direction of Longacre Square, swung {mto the curb and stopped. Latohkey In hand, Matthias paused and looked back in some little sur- prise; the lodgers of Mme. Duprat were a motley lot, but as far as he knew none of them were of the class that maintains expensive automo- hiles, But this car, upon inspection, sroved to be tenanted by the chauft- feur alone, who, leaving the motor purring, jumped smurtly from his aeat and ran up the s#tens. “] beg your pardon, sir,” he said, touching bis cap, “but I’m looki for a gentleman named Matthias"—— “Jam Mr. Matthias.” ‘Thank you, sir. I've been sent to fetoh you. It's—er— important, I fancy,” the man added, eying Mat- thias curtously. “You've been But who sent you? “My employer, sir—Mr. Marbrid, “Marbridge!" Matthias echoed, startled, Without definite decision, he turped and ren down tb: eps in company with the chauffeur; Venetia in need of him, perhaps * * * “What's happened?" he demanded. “qe Mrs. Marbridge”—-- “If you'll just get in, sir,” the man replied, “I'll tell you-as much know--on the way, It'll ‘e tim opened the door of the tonneau, < be glad for nt to fetch me? Com THE EVENING te Novel in Evenin but Matthias turned from tt, walked round the car, and climbed into the seat beside the driver's, With a nod of satisfaction, the chauffeur joined him, threw in the power, and deftly swung the ponderous vehicle about. “Well?” Matthiag asked as the ma- chine shot across town. ofr,” the man after a moment— bg eay anything, i¢ it's all the same to you.” “Tt isn't,” Matthias insisted ourtly. “T'm not on suffictentty friendly terms with Mr. Marbridge for him to send for me without exptanation.” “Yes, sir; but you see, part of my Job ts to keep my mouth sbut.” “I'm afraid I shatt nave to ask you to forget that duty to some extent, or else stop the car and let me out.” “Very good, gir. I don't suppose 1 can do any harm telling what little I know. After supper to-night Mr. ag: World Daily HE EASELS ASE September 19; ‘| Joan Thursday Marbridge told me to take the car & to the garage and not to expect a call for it until some time to-morrow morning; but when I got there he was already wanting me on tho tele- Phone, He said there'd been an ac- cident, and told me to find Mr. Ar- ington frat then you, and ask you to come immediately,’ ' “But why me? Matthias asked, more of himeelf than of the driver, “He didn't say, air.” “Did he state what sort of an ac- cident?” “No, sir.” “You found Mr, Arlington?” “No, air; he wasn't in when I asked St his hotel. But I teft a message be- fore coming on for you.” Matthias sat up with a start. In- id of turning up Broadway the man was steering bis car straight across Longacre Square. Before he had time to comment on this fact they were speeding on toward Sixth avenue. “Look here,” he cried, “you're not taking me to Mr, Marbridg “No, sir.” “But"— “Mr. Marbridge badn’t gone home when he telephoned me, sir.” “Where Is he, then?” “We'll be there in a minute, eir—an apartment house on Madison avenue.” “Oh!" said Matthias thoughtfully. “Was Mr. Marbridge—ah—alone when you left lim to-night?" “I'd rather not say, sir, if you don't mind.” Troubled by an inkling of the dis- aster, Matthias composed himself to patience. Turning south on Fifth avenue, the car passed Thirty-fourth street be- fore swinging castward again. It stopped eventually in the aide street, just ahort of the corner of Madison r to Make Good GHBDOHHBHDDDOOGHODIDDGHODHDSHGOHHWIDVD\DSGODOODIGGOES avenue, before a priva' ntrance to @ ground floor apartment such as phy- sicilans prefer, But Matthias could discern no physician's name-plate upon the door at which his guide knocked, or in either of the flanking windows. Opening the door disclosed a pan- elled entry tenanted by a white- Mpped woman in the black ami white uniform of a lady's maid. Her fright- ened eyes examined Matthias appre- hensively as he entered, followed by the chauffeur, This last demanded bricfy: tor been?” Tho maid assented with a nervous nod: “Ten minutes ago, about. He's with the lady now”—— the chauffeur echoed. “But I thought it was Mr. Mar- bridge”—— “I mean the other lady,” the maid explained—"the one what done the shooting. When Mr. Marbridge got the gun away from her he locked her up in the bathroom, and then she had hysterics, The doctor's trying to make her hush, so's she won't disturb the other tenants, but * * * You “Doc- can hear yourself how she's carrying on.” In @ pause that followed Matthias ‘was conscious of the sound of high- pitched and incessant laughter, slightly muffled, emanating from some distant part of the flat. He asked abruptly: “Where !s Mr. Marbridge?" The maid started and hesitated, looking to the chauffeur. “This is Mr. Matthias,” that one explained, “Mr. Marbridge sent for him.” “Oh, yes—excuse me, sir, This way, if you please.” Opening a door on the right, the woman permitted Matthias to pass through, then closed it. He found himself in a dining room of moderate proportions and hand- somely furnished, Little of it was visible, however, outside the radius of illumination cast by an electric dome, which, depending from the mid- dle of the ceiling, focused its rays upon a small round dining table of mahogany. This table was quite bare save for a massive decanter of cut- glass standing at the edge of a puddle as an Acire of spilt liquor: as if an uncertain hand had attempted to pour @ drink. Near it lay a broken goblet. On the further side of the table a woman with young ana slender figure stood In @ pose of arrested action, holding a goblet haif full of brandy nd water, Her features were but indistinctly au ed in the penum- bra of the dome, but beneath this her bare arms and shoulders, rising out of an elaborate evening gown, shone with a soft warm lustre. Matthias remembered that gown: Joan Thursday had worn it in the last act of “Mrs. Mixer.” But she neither moved nor spoke, and for the time being he paid her no further heed, giving his attention entirely to Marbridge. Sitting low in a deeply upholstered wing-chair—out of ptace in the din- ing room and evidently dragged in for the emergency—Marbridge breathed heavily, chin on his chest, his coarse mouth ajar, ghastly with a stricken pallor, His feet sprawled uncouthly. The dress coat and waistcoat he had worn lay in a heap on the floor, near the chair, and both shirt and undershirt been ripped and cut away from his right shoulder, exposing his swarthy and hairy bosom and a sort of tem- porary bandage which, like bis linen, was darkly stained, Closed when Matthias entered, his eyes opened almost instantly and fixed upon the man a heavy and lack-lustre stare, which at first failed to indicate recognition. Matthias heard himself crying out in @ voleo of horror: “Good God, Marbridge! How did this happen?” The man stirred, grunted with pain, and made a deprecatory gesture with his left hand. “Needn't yell,” he said thickly: “I've been shot—done for’—- His gaze ehifted heavily to the woman. With effort he enunciated one word more: "Drink!" As though by that monosyllable freed from an enchaining spell, Joan started, moved quickly to his feet and held the goblet to his lips. He drank noisily, gulping and slob. bering; overflowing at either corner of his mouth, the liquor dripped twin streams upon his naked bosom. Mechanically Matthias put bis hat down on the table. He experienced an incredulous sen- sation, as though he were struggling to cast off the terror and oppression of some particularly vivid and co- herent nightmare. From the farther room that nolse persisted of monotonous and awful laughter. Marbridge ceased to swallow and srunted, Joan removed the glass and bis face 4, A Complete Novel Each Week in The Evening World ‘The Story of a New York Girl’s Struggles drew away without looking at Mat- thias, At a cost of considerable will- power, apparently, the wounded man collected himseif and levelled at Mat- thias his louring, but now less dull, regard. “Ob, It's you, ts it?” he sald un- graciously, “Well, you'll do at a Pinch, I wanted Arlington—but you if he couldn't be found.” “Well,” sald Matthias stupidly, “I'm here. The doctor’a seen you, I sup- pose?” “Yer—did what he could for me— no use wasting effort—it's my cue to come! It's not as bad as @ bell it ain’t. The doctor knows—I know. Not that it matters, It was coming to me and I got it.” “Where's the doctor?’ Matthias tn- sisted. “Why isn't he attending you now?” * in the other room * © © to allence that crazy woman * © © She plugged me and * * * went Into hysterics.” “Whot “Nella Cardrow * © * Had the devil of a time with her before the doctor camo * * © trying to keep her from rushing out and giving her- selfup * * © all this in the papers * © © But all right now; we'll hush it up. “Then that's what you want ef mer" “weit,” Marbridge “Where's that girl?” Joan moved back to his side. “What can I do?” she said; and these were all the words Matthias heard her utter from first to last of that busl- ness. Maroridge nodded at her with a curling lip: “You can get out!" She turned sharply and left the room, banging the door, “That's the kind ehe is,” Marbridge commented. “You were lucky to get rid of her as easy as you did, Give mo more brandy, will you, like a good fellow—and be stingy with the water. I've got to hold out a couple of hours more.” Matthias served him. “I presume Venetia knows nothing w>vut thie, yet?” Having drunk, Marbridge shook his head. “Not yet. Now listen © © © You guessed it; I want you to help hush this up, for Venetia’s soke. * * * Rotten mess—do no wood if it gets in the papers—only srunted. humiliation for her. Will your’-— [ “What is it you want me to do?” “Help me home and keep your mouth shut. © © * You see, this is my place; I've had it years; very handy—private entrance—all . that’s * © Nella sometimes used to dine with me here. That's how she came to have a key. I'd forgotte: “Well, I got tired of her, and she couldn't act, and Arlington was sore about that. So we planned to get rid I guess you must ‘ve heard. a dirty business, all round. * ° © And to-night, when her play went to pieces, just as w planned it should, she saw how shi been bilked and lost her head. * * * “Came here, let herself in quietly, without the maid's hearing her, and mhot me when I came in with Joan for @ bite of supper. I managed to get the gun away before she could turn it on herself, and locked her up. Then—hysterice. © © © Well, I'm finished. I ed for it, and got it. * © © No; no remorse bunk, a0 deathbed repentance, nothing like that! But I realize I've been a pretty rotten proposition, first and i Never mind. * * * What I'm get- ‘a this: nobody need suffer but That's whore you come in. For Veneti: sake. You and Arlington and the doctor can cover it all up be- tween you. Artic can quiet that girl ~Joan—and the doctor's all right; he'll want @ pretty atift ck to fix the undertaker—nnd that's all right, too. Then you've got to scare Nella Cardrow so's sho won't give herself that away, and buy my chauffeur maid out there, Sara. first off, you'll have to help d get me home and in bed. I'm the sort ¥' that's got to die in the recat pi “Well Kare foes ite a good job © © © at that.” He shivered. ‘The hall door opened and Arlington entered, followed by a lean man with worried eyes, who proved to be the doctor, CHAPTER XVII. HORTLY before 7 o'clock that same morning © Mmousine car pulled up quietly just is short of the corner of Madi- son avenue, and its ocoupant, with a word on alighting to his driver, addressed himself briskly to the door of the ground-floor fiat. He was a handsome, wéll dressed, well eet up and well nourished animal of something more than middle-age; @ fact which the pitilessly clear ight early “I haven't been t Mr. Arlington,” Joan he observed, ‘you don’t look it.” ve been packing returned. “Of course=! "Or thetically. Having cloned the outside door, she moved before him into a small ing room which adjoined at hall on the left, and when he had lowed shut its door with _ part ra's Dlained, turning to o Aril He henitated, lool a doubtful But Neahe owes, at ye. outwardly, quite eool and. her manner exhibiting ne 9 amount of anxiety. i Still, a certain amount ot believe would seem no more o cent. “Look here" ho Leg almost 6 ly—“you're feelin il right, eh “Quite—only tired as @ dog; and “But you'll be fit to go about that,” Joan ad- vined him di “Ts hoping te “Yor.” Arlington | naturally"—— on toomane, you think?” @ nay — event Pion f kn sheared avoiding her [+ a “IT understand,” he Sar “Don't wo actress la sinage to to her ata , — ask you to t , Joan's figure opt a alightly bread her dark ees widened. Dac she questioned in a low vArigaee halt an hour a ande'we got him) home. ‘The it my business to see t! Ryko You must. You can’t do justice your—genius, if Wits eectaent. 1% waa” ee you know. Just as 1 ranged details of early morning betrayed, discover- 1! fines and hollows im bis clean- shaven countenance whigh would-er- nat dinarily have escaped notice, But he had passed that time of life when he could suffer a sleepless ing for it. Fue tateation a aR himself by rin paticipated, the door opening before t of anxiety without visibly pay- o¢ his finger could touch the button. He jay, ked momentarily in obvious eur- ebion, then jauntily lifted his hat as fe stepped hurriedly inside. == Novelettes of the New York Streets == Maiden Lane—The Purple Pearls. rites haprenaly By Ethel Watts jreaing Worta, Mumtord Coprright. 1914, by the Prem Publishicg Co, (The New York Eveuing World.) AIDEN LANE is a narrow, rather dingy little street. Once upon a time, perhaps, it was a lane, and maidens tripped along its bowery path- way, It was doubtless a lane of romance even then; but now, though the maidens are con- spicuous by their absence, and the beauty of the landscape is gone for- ever, it is still jostling full of ro- man for it is the highway of pearis and diamonds, emeralds and rubies, Hidden in folded papers, concealed in metal cases, and double locked in masaive safes, the offices of Maiden Lane guard treasures more marvel- lous than tho famed hordes of Indian maharajas, A thin stream of myriad fires flows from these vaults and strong boxes through the vi of the whore country, feeding ite vanity and its love of beauty, pulsating in waves of envy and temptation, bombast and tentation, glitter and sparkle and sheen and shine, Ephraim Graves loved his business; it was his pleasure. He loved the beauiy of jewels with the adoration of an artist for the masterpieces of art. His books showed for more than mere entries of purchase and profit. Each gem was catalogued with loving exactness, not only its size and weight, but characteristics that were of his own fancy. He named the most fascinating ones. Bometimes he held a stone for months until he had decided on its name, unwiiling to dispose of it, till he had catalogued it according to his whim. His clientele was large, and a feat- ure of it was the number of collectors who patroni: the dingy little office, for not only was his honesty proverb- ial and his word as good as his bond, WORLD but he had the “flair” for the unusual stone, the stone with a history, or with some strong individuality of shape and color, One autumn afternoon he sat behind his green balze-topped table with squares of black velvet at the corners, and with a tiny pair of compasses he turned and lifted and weighed a lovely sphere—a perfect peurl, as largo as a boy's marble, perfect in shape and lustre, and softly purple. ‘Khe dove," he m ured, “that’s your name—the dove. There is no Such beauty of color except on the throat of a pigeon." He turned it again loving! led it on the black velvet and weighed it in the palm of his hand. Then he folded it in many tissues and laid it safely away, just as his assistant en- tered from the outer office. ‘There's a man oytside, sir," he said, “and he's got a wonuey of a pearl ho wants to sell. You'd better seo it.” Graves nodded, and a ‘moment later rose to greet the newoomer, a thick- set man in worn “store clothes” and the ungainly walk of a fresh water pearier used to wading shallow bot- ‘oms. “Ah, Breen,” the feweller smiled “another goud one, 1 hear. — Let us sec, The three last you brought in were excellent, excellent,” The man nodded, fished for a mo- ment In the inner pocket of his vest and drew out a lump of paper. He unwrapped it with clumsy, scarred fingers and rolled out on the black carpet before him a glistening gem, Graves gasped. He thought for a moment that it was “the dove” that gleamed before him. Then he real- ized, together with its resemblance in size and ape and color, the peculiar differences of “orient,” a blue cast in the lovely mauve color, a@ glamor more soft that, while pe tly lustrous, held a veiled qualit “The twiltght,"” he murmures hia is the twill, “Flye thousand with decision, “not n cent less. Graves nodded. “All right,” he said. “I don’t mind telling you I wouldn't pay you that, but f weppen to have @ purple pear! that will go with it, and it's h it to me to have the pair. Weed will go with you to the hank and pay you the money.” He rang the bell, made out said the pearler the check, ond dispatched the pearler und his assistant. When they had gone he took out the steel box where “the dove" rested and with trembling fingers unwrapped it and let {t slip to the table, where It rolled as if attracted by a magnet till it kissed the allken side of its fellow. Graves looked at them with delight —so ulike, yet so different, the most wonderful match, and yet such in- finite variety. ‘1 were delicious together, a feast r the eye. He began to wonder to whom he would write, announcing his find, The love- ly American Princess ought to have them, but he knew that the drain upon'the privy purse had been heavy Mrs. McGlory, the steel magnate’ wife, would jump at them, but he could not bear to think of “the dove” and “twilight” displayed on that un- beautiful expanse of bosom. There was-— A knock on the door of the office broke in upon his musings. He slipped both the pearls into the metal box and glanced at the revolver on the shelf beside him before he went to the door. But there was no cause for alarm. He beheld the heavy form and bullet head of Robertson Klein, one of his best clients, and a lavish buyer. “Hello, Graves,” he said, “What have you got that's good? I want somethivg for a present for a lady.’ He leered evilly as he came in, walked directly through to the inner office and pulled up a chair with an air of proprictorsiip. His eye fell upon the steel box. ‘Been looking something over, have you? Well, roll her out and let's have a look.” Graves hesitated, He did not like Klein, He would have preferred to show him some limpersonal lamond, but he did not see how he could re- ‘A moment later the two purple pearly lay gleaming side by side on le background sald the big What's the damage? Twenty thousand,” said Graves. “They're worth eight thousand apiece of any man's money, but matched, they're matchless.” Klein whistled. “Whew! that’s go- ing some. However, I know you're square, by Jove’ ‘They are hot ones— look too good to be true, don't they? Like some of this Paris junk. Well, I'm afraid I've got to cough, ‘They're some pippins, and they're going where they'll do the most good. The lady's a golden blonde-—real thin and a neck, say, blanc mange isn't in It." There was a wolfish gleam in the big man's handsome, heavy eyes, ~ deep-ringed, with dark sockets. would suggest a platinum la valltere,” Graves observed, “very plain, with perhaps just an ‘emerald and diamond chip at the point of mounting.” “Yes, by Jove! I think you're right. Too big for earrings and some big locket thing wouldn't look well on this particular kind of a lady. The other'd look Frenchy. I'll take ‘em ulong uptown and icave ‘em to be made up, Here's your check, Must way, Graves, you're the one best bet when it comes to having the stones with @ punch to ‘em, blamed if you're For days after Ephraim Graves was conscious of a sense of loss. Even the handsome profit “The Dove" and its sister Kem had netted him could nov console him for their absence, until he acquired “Aladdin's Amulet,” a mar- vellous antique emerald, bearing on its table edged facets an indecipher- able inscription in Arabic, That mys- terlous Inscription was a challenge, and the lover of gems forgot all else in its interest, But the purple pearls were to retura to him—in their own seuson. Threo months had passed and the Christmas — season approaching brought with it increasing business in the dingy street of a thousand wonders, Graves had just concluded a satis- factory trade with a fellow expert when Weed came in. “ICs Mr. Anthony, nounced, Graves looked up in surprise. Mr Anthony and his beautiful wife had been ood clients, but Wall street reverses, he knew, had left them in Almost straightened circumstancos. ‘Then it flashed through his mind that perhaps Anthony had come to dispose of some of the gems he bad purchased in the heyday of his good fortune. He rose to greet his former patron and was shocked at what he saw Anthony was haggard and drawn. His eyes were haunted, mad eyes, and His Nps twitched and his hands were shoking. There was a wreck of the man that had been. He stammered a Jame oxcuse for his appearence, He had been ill, he said, and perhaps Mr. Graves also knew that he had met with losses, Things had gone badly for him for the past two years. It would be necessary for him to raise some money In order to keep afloat a scheme that might reimburse him. Graves nodded sympathetically. Certainly he would be glad to make an offer for some of Mra. Anthony stones. If she were willing to part with the pearl necklace she had bought four or five years before he felt sure he could place it at once, sir,” he an- and at @ better price than had been paid for tt. Pearls had gone up. There was the pear-sha) canary diamond, too; that could be sold quickly." Indeed, Mr. Graves stated, he would bo glad to buy It back for what Mr. Anthony had paid for it. Mr. Graves was truly sorry for the broken man before him. He had al- ways liked him, and admired his wife, whose wonderful Iden blond col- oring, even more her beauty of feature, had made her famous. Gravos strove to make the Interview as easy as possible. But Anthony seemed at nea, He could not bring himself to the point of negotiation. His ner- vous hesitancy increased, and his evi- dent misery could not voice itself, “Perhaps,” the jeweller suggested, “you brought something with you, I can give you an immediate price on anything you wish.” Suddenly, with a broken motion, as if his arm and hand were somehow maimed, Anthony dragged a packet from his pocket and threw it on the table, His lips twitche: nvulsively, and he thrust his hands deep in his pockets, as If unable to control their shaking, The older man took up the little wad of silk and tssue, unwrapped them with great show of care, hoping to give his visitor time to get him- self in hand, A slender platinum chain rippled between his fingers, and a second later the twin purple pearls rolled on the black velvet before him. Graves could feel the blood receding from his heart. In a flash of under- standing ho realized and guessed many things—Mrs, Anthony with the golden wonder of her loveliness Klein and his millions Anthony, and the terrible questioning fear that burned In his ick eyes—he realized that a trap lay open at hin feet “What—wh-at will you give me on these?” he asked. Graves Mfted the great jewels and held them before his eyes. Dangling from their slender chain, each pearl wos secured at the stem by a tiny cluster of emeralds and diainonds, Klein had evidently followed his ad- vice, Graves was thinking hard, To gain time he weighed the pearls and examined their surface with a micro- scope. He made up his mind sud- denly. “T regret to tell you, Mr. Anthony ~perhaps you set great store by this pendant, The setting is 1, and in excellent tas! He pause Over Anthony's white face @ look of relief bes n to dawn, “Yo p said iinploringly, “Yes?” Graven laid down the necklace. "There are imitations, aa perhaps you know—so excellent as to deceive any one but an expert.” MISS WEALTHY, Deputy Sheriff. eee @ A ATO BY OF. LAW, LOVE AND A staat AA (OOM) ‘0! thank God! thank Godl" burst from Anthony's lips, He laid his arm head sank upon them and he sobbed without restraint, There was a sound in the outer office—a woman's anxious voice, Graves recognised It and ai forward. “Will you please come in here, Mra. Anthony?" suid. “Your husband sooms upset over this trinket of yours, 1 don't deal in fake pearls, Of course, I'm aorry. She was standing wide eyed and terrifie he door, her hand went . Tears of gratitude from Pathesy put out bis nd, groping “Can ry eae N caive me?" he sobbed, couldn't believe, I knew Graves—Oh, Marion!" ‘The jeweller turned away. He was sick at heart. “Your beads, Mra, Anthony; wrap them up for you?” She shuddered Throw them aw: T don't want to see them, They have caused too much unhappinesa—throw them away!" table toward the dealer. There was command and appeal in her face. He nodded comprehension and rolled the pearls carelessly aside into a drawer. “I'm sorry,” sho said siowly, “that you should have had to learn of this. I'=ashe blushed paintully—"told him thi were clover Imitations-—he felt he had reason to doubt me. I can ne forgive myself that he should have ever had 4 paused again, her voice. “Don't! dog!" M grave. There was truth in said Anthony. “I'm a . Anthony's eyes were “He doesn't understand, Mr, Graves, that T only love him. T ought to have been above any sort of decuption ~- even — imitation’ Sho could not finish her sentence. hope you understand,” she sald at length. mree nodded, “Please don’t speak 16 said ome," she said softly, laying a hand on her husband's arm, He rove, mumbling apologies, ‘The door closed upon them. Graves drew a sheet of paper toward him. r, Klein T enclose of it Dear Sir," he wroti my check ‘for twen thousand dollars, On second thought I have decided to keep the gema now in my possession--since you have no further use for them." He picked up the linked thread and held the purple pears up to the and sighed, jy—=——$$==@ halb I | be before him on the table, his|I brought On do ‘Arlington placed the be. pate aera, | They're. sl folded with your" del ® viggs ‘uppermost. = iar gee Ribined 20 much!” az ie act of a bundle, he, Joan Dealtated here's pothing about?” she ‘. ing ange tt ror, And the oor Sareea © knife—oy peratively She pushed them across the | tice, suppose you know, didn't leave any papers of that sort lying round here ‘There was no mn anery He paper rustle, and " the girl with her ai attention all sorbed by one of her not sa. y reason to"—— She| You’ re all ready, to leave when | Ve ‘d things up with her? " she returned without Jook: ited a moment by the remarking the flush phe 3 ne that a deepening in her cheeks; tifled shake of his bead het he etre the room very quietly. “t 2 wel She remained alone for half an hour, in the course of time she read all the revier ne some of the more enthu twee. ‘Then carefully fold! the she put them aside and ws ys She Thought Por a Fata out moving, her eyes hint looked ahead out of sordid turmoil of yes' golden promise of to-mo: She thought by no mea with a brain confused by pi sodden with fatigue, but aoe welter of her thoughts ® ali mendous fact stood ont. unshakable, like a mountain ¢ ing about cloudwrack: She was a Success. (The