The evening world. Newspaper, September 14, 1915, Page 15

errs we tes Omen | Seeee Rg An Mord four sat amiahly about / the room and held pre- \ else and pleasant converse, . something like a cheerful eneny written in disiogue, about many amusing, intelligent things which didn't especio!ly matter. ‘The LAberry Teacher liked it. It was pleasant beyond words to sit nestling in @ pluffy chair, and hear about all the little Nehtty treated scholarly day - before-yesterday things ber father bad wood to talk of. @he carried on her own email part fin the talk blithely enough. Bhe ap- Proved of herself and the way abe was behaving, which makes very much for comfort, There was only once that she was ashamed of her- eelf, and thought about it in bed afterward and was mortified: when her eyes flied with quick tears at a quite dry and unemotional—indeed, (rather @ earcastic—quotation from Horace on the part of Mr. De Guenther. But she smiled when sho aw that they noticed her. “That's the first time that I've heard a Latin quotation since I .ame away from home," she found herself aaying quite simply im explanation, “and father quoted Horace so much every day that—that I felt as if an ola friend had walked In!" But ber hosts didn’t seem to mind. Mr. De Guenther in his careful ev: ning clothes looked swittly across at Mrs. De Guenther in her gray-allk- and-cameo, and they both nodded little satisfied nods, as if she had spoken in a way that th were wind to hear. And then dinne¥ was served, a dinner as different—well, she didy’t want to remember in its Presence the dinners it differed from; they might have clouded the mo- ment, She merely ate it with a shameless inward joy. Tt ended, atill to a pleasant effort- les achompaniment of talk about books and music and pictures that Phyllis was interested tn, and had found nobody to share her interest with for eo long—so long! She felt happily running through everything * the general, easy taking-for-granted of all the old, gentle, inflextbie stand- ards of breeding that she had nearly forgotten, down in the heart of the elty among her obstreperous, afteo- thonate little foreigners. ‘They had coffee in the long old fashioned salon. parlor, and then Mr. De Guenther straightened himself, at first, about of any sort. They merely be- to tell her alternately about some elfénits of theirs, a Mrs. Harrington her son: rather interesting peo- from what Phyllis could make ,Bhe wondered if she was going to Rear that they needed a librarian, “This lady, my client, Mra, Hur- ington,” continued her host gravely, “te the one for whom I may ask you to consider doing some work. I way may, but it te a practical certainty. She is absolutely alone, my dear Miss “Oh, but I want to hear!" said Phyllis; with that quick, affectionate sympathy of hers that was 60 win- n.ng, leaning forward and watching them with the lighted look in her blue eyes, It all eeomed to her tired, alert mind like some story she might have read to her children, an Arabian Nights narrative which might begin, “And the Master of the House, as- eribing praise unto Allah, repeated Sedilowins ‘Tal ere have always been just the two of them, mother and son," said the Master of the House. “And Allan hag always boon a very great deal to ‘hig mother." “Poor Angela!" murmured his wife. “They are old friends of ours," her husband explained. “My wife and Mra, Harrington were schoolmates, “Well, Allan, the boy, grew up, dowered with everything a mother could possibly desire for her son, personally and otherwise. He was handsome and intelligent, with much charm of manner." “I know now what people mean by ‘talicing like a book,’" thought Phylits irreverently. nd I don't believe one man could be all that!" here was practically nothing,” Mr, De Guenther went on, “which the poor |, had not, That was one trouble, I imagine. If he had not been highly intelligent he would not have studied so hard; if he had not trong and active he might not taken up athletic sports so whole-heartedly; and when I add that Allan possessed charm, money and social status you may see that what he did would have broken down most vouns fellows. In chert. “ * not speak at all he kept awe & whudien, eporte gving at during bis four yeare a wut he Was youn and strong ‘sod mart hot have Feit ail thet muck U1) effets trey though bu doctors eaté ef. that he wae nearly at the ’ fo the story! toler n her Intense interest, Why, it ike one of her fairy tales’ id her breath to lietem, while old lawyer went gravely on. | bee aA) " than raduated, on ae me very short while after | ward that hy beeame engwaed to a young wirl, the daughter of « family friend. Levine Frey was her name, love?’ t ie right,” sald hie wife “Laowine Frey” “A beautiful girl” he went on ‘dark, with « brilliant color, and fu life and good both very y reason why the m: layed, and it w lowing Bept A Vrincenss he story! But where had she gone? “The two of them only,” he had said | et have been scarcely a the story went on-—Mr De Guenther was telling i! as if he were stating & case rly & month be- fore the date ‘or the wedding, riage should wet for the! to when the * t for a long automobile ride, acrom 4 range of mountains near 4 country place where they were both staying. were alo They of course, was driving, doubt | leas with @ certain degree of iinpetu- sity, we he did most thin oo 18 lowering curred an Unforescon wreckage in the car's machinery, The car was thrown over id badly Both young people were pinned under {t ‘No far aa he knew at the time, Allan waa not injured, nor was he in any pain; but he was held in abso- lute inability to move by the car above him. Miss Frey, on the con-| trary, was badly hurt, and in suffer- ing. She died in about three hours, ' @ little before relief came to them,” Phyllis clutched the ‘ms of her chair, thrilled and wide-eyed. she! could imagine all the horror of the happening through the old lawyer's Precise and unemotional story. The boy lover, pinioned, helpless, con. demned to watch bis aweetheart dy- ing by inches, and unable to belp her by #0 much fting a hand—could anything be more awful not only to are) but to remember? yet,” she thought whimsically, | “It mightn't be so bad to have one “An real tragedy to remember, if you haven't anything else! All I'll have to remember when I'm od will be bad little children and good little children, and books and houses, and the recollection that peo- ple said I was a very worthy young woman once!" But she threw off the thought. It's just as well not to think of old age when all the idea brings Up is a vision of a nice, clean Old Ladies’ Home. “But you said he was an invalid she sald aloud. “Yea, I regret to say,” answered Mr. De Guenther. “You see, it was found that the shock to the nerves, acting on an already over-keyed mind and body, together with some spinal blow concerning which the tors: are still in doubt, had affected Al- Jan's powers of locomotion.” (M: De Guenther certainly did like lo words!) “He has been umble to walk since. And, which is sadder, his atate of mind and body has become steadily worse, He can scarcely move at all now, and his mental at- titude can only be described as pain- fully morbid—yes, I may say very painfully morbid. Sometimes he does for days together, even to his mother, or his attendant.” “Oh, poor boy!" said Phyllis, “How long has he been this way?" “Seven years this fall,” the answi 6 consideringly. “Is it not, love said his wife, “seven ye "Oh!" sald the Liberry Teacher, with a quick catch of sympathy at her heart. Just as long as she had been work- i for her living in the big, dusty library. Supposing—oh, supposin; e'd had to live all that time in such suffering as this poor Allan had en- dured and his mother had had to witness! She felt suddenly as if the grimy, restless Children’s Room, with its clatter of turbulent little outland volces, were a safe, sunny paradi: in_comparison. Mr, De Guenther did not speak, He visibly braced himself and was vis- ibly {il-at-ease, “I have told most of the story, Isa bel, love,” sald he at last, “Would you not prefer to tell the rest? It ts at your instance that L have under- taken this commission for Mrs. Har- rington, you will remember.” It struck Phyllis that he didn’t think it was quite a dignified com- mission, at that, “Very well, my dear,” sald his wife, and took up the tale in her swift, soft voice, “You ean fancy, my dear Mi Braithwaite, how intensely his mother has felt about it.” “Indeed, yes!" said Phyllis pitifully, “Her whole life since the accident s been one long devotion to her son, 1 don't think a half-hour ever passes that she does not see him, But in spite of this constant care, as my husband has told you, he grows steadily worse. And poor Angela has tinally broken under the strain. She was never strong. She is dylag now: ey give her maybe two months more. “Her one anxiety, of course, ts for poor Allan's welfare. You can iin- agine how you would feel if you had to leave an entirely helpless son or brother to the mercies of hired tendants, however faithful. And t have no relatives: they are the last of the family,” ‘The listening girl began to see. She was going to be asked to act as nurse, perhaps attendant and guardian, to this morbid invalid with the injured mind and body, “But how would I be any better for him than a regular trained nurse?” she wondered. “And they sald he had\an attendant,” She looked questioningly at the aale. & “Where does my part come int she asked with @ certain sweet di~ rectness which was sometimes hers. “Wouldn't I be a hireling too if—if I had anything to do with it?” “die.” ead Mra De —— _The Evening World Daily Can You Beat It? . You &ravely. "You would not. would have to be his wife.” CHAPTER IV. HE Liberry Teacher, in her sober best sult, sat down ia her entirely commonplace chair in the quiet old par- lor, and looked unbelieving- ly at the sedate elderly couple who had made her this wild proposition. She caught ber breath. But catching her breath did not seem to affect anything that had been sald. Mr, De Guenther took up the explanation ‘gain, @ little deprecatingly, she thought. “You see now why I requested you to Investigate our reputability?” he said. “Such a proposition as this, ea- pecially to a young lady who has no parent or guardian, requires a consid- erable guarantee of good faith and honesty of motive.” “Will you please tell me more about it?" she asked, quietly. She did not foe] now as if it were anything which had especially to do with her. It seemed more like an interesting story * she was unravelling sentence by sen- tence, The long, softly lighted old room, with its Stuarts and Bullys, and its gracious, gray-haired host and hostess, seemed only @ picturesque of it * © © Her hostess again. Rearly distracted,” ‘And the idea has come to that if she could find some con- sclentious woman, @ lady, and « per- son to whom what she could offer would be a consideration, who would take charge of poor Allan, that she could die in peac “But why did you think of ask- ing me?" the girl asked breathlessly. “And why does she want me married to him? And how could you or she be sure that I would not be as much of a hireling as any purse eo may have now?" Mrs. De Guenther answered the last two questions toget “Mrs. Harrington's idea 1s, and I think rightly, that conscientious woman would feel the marriage tie, however nominal, bond that would obligate her to a certain duty to- ward her husband, As to why we ac- lected you, my dear, my husband and 1 have had an interest in you for some years, as you know. We have spoken of you as @ girl whom we should Ilke for a relative’—— “Why, isn't that strange?" cried Phyllis, dimpling. ‘That's just what I've thought about you Mra, De Guenther flushed, with a delicate old shyness, “Thank you, dear child.” sha said “I was about to add that we have seen you at your work all these years without knowing you to have the kind heart and sense of honor requi- site to poor Angela's plan. Woe feel sure you could be trusted to take the place. Mr. De Guenther has asked his friend, Mr. Johnson, the head of the library, such things we need- ed to supplement our personal knowl- edge of you. You have everything that could be asked, even to a certain of outlook, which peor urally, lacks in a meas- ure. “But—but what about me?" asked Phyllis Braithwaite a Uttle piteously, in anewer to all this. They seemed so certain she was what they wanted—was there any- thing in this wild scheme that would DING Bust IT! Ou ARE SNEEZING IGQHT SHACK WN : Ag > < AND LOO cea | THE Boarn ug \ 5 JS Don T By Maurice Ketten OP Fussing ) a? Th Tre Fry mea ™ \ BE ALARNED SIR. MY SNEEZE IS HYGIENIC Too a IS HYQ it NIC keeper of a roomful of turbulent little foreigners? “Unless you are thinking of mar- riage"— Phyllis shook her head— “you would have at least a much easier life than you have now. Mrs, Harrington would settle a liberal in- come on you, contingent, of course, on your ‘faithful wardership over Allan. would be your only judges 4s to that, You would have a couple of more months of absolute freedom every year, control of much of your own time, ample leisure to enjoy it. You would give only your chances of actual marriage for perhaps five years, for poor Allan cannot live longer than that at his present state of retrogression, and some part of every day to seeing that Allan was not neglected. If you bestow on him half of the interest and effort I have known of your giving any one of a dozen litte = immigra boys, his mother has nothing to fear for him.” Mr, De Guenther stopped with a grave little bow, and he and his wife waited for the reply. The Liberry Teacher sat silent, her eyes on her slim hands, that were roughened and reddened by constant hurried washings to get off the dirt of the brary books. It true—-a deal of it, anyhow. And on» thing they had not said was true also: her sunniness and accuracy and strength, her stock-in-trade, were wearing, thin under the pressure of too long hours and too hard work and too few personal interests. Her youth was worn down. And—marriage? What chance of love and marriage bad she, a work- ing girl alone, too poor to see any- thing of the class uf men she would be willing to marry? She bad uot for years spent six hours with a man of her own kind and age, Sho had not even been specially in love, that she could remember, since was grown up. She did not feel much, now, as if she ever would be, All that she had to give up in taking this offer was her freedom, such as it was 4 those fluttering perhapses that whisper such pleasant proinises when you are young. ut, then, «he wouldn't be young so very much longer, Should she—she put it to herself crudely—should she wait long, hard, closed-in years in the faith that she would learn to be absolutely con- tented, or that some man she could love would come to the cheap board. ing house, or the little church she at- tended occasionally when she wa not too tired, fall in love with h work-dimmed looks at sight, and— marry her? It had not happend ail these years while her girlhood had been more attractive and her person- ality more untirea, There was scarcely a chance in a hundred for her of & kind lover-h ¢ band and such dear picture-book chil dren as she had seen Eva Atkinson convoying, Well—her mind suddeniy Me Up against the remembrance, as inst a@ sober fact, that in her pas- slonate wishings of yesterday she had not wished for a lover-husband, nor for children. She had asked for a husband who would give her money, and lelaure to be rested and pretty, and—a rose garden! And here, ap- parently, was her wish uncannily ful- filled. “Well, what are you going to do about it? inquired the Destinies with thelr traditional indifference, “We can’t wait all night!" Bhe lifted her head and cast an al- most frightened look at the De Guen- thera, waiting courteously for her de- cision, In reply to the look, Mr. De her life better th: it was Guenther be, ving her detatis pane et, lite er ao It wee se Gu COEUR -y- and the business terms of the con- tract generally She listened atten- tively, All that—for a little guardi- anship, a litte kindness and the giv- ing up of @ little piece of life nobody wanted and a few little hopes and dreams! Phyllis laughed, as she always did when there were big black problems to be solved. ‘After all it's fairly usual,” she said, “I heard last week of a woman who left money along with her pet dog, very much the same way.” “Did you? Did you, dear?" asked Mrs, De Guenther, beaming, “Then you think you will do tt?" he Liberry Geacher rose and squared her straight ng shoulders under the worn net waist. “lf Mrs, Harrington thinks I'l do for the situation!" she sald gallantly —and laughed again, “It feels partly like going into a nunnery and partly like going into a fairy story,” she sald to herself that night as she wound her alarm. “But I wonder if anybody's remembered to ask the consent of the groou!"” CHAPTER V. JE looked like a young Crusad- er on a tomb. That was Phyllis's first impression of l Allan Marrington. He talted and acted, if a moveleas man can be said to act, like « bored, spotled -small boy, That was her second Mrs. Harrington, fragile, flushed, breathlessly intense In her wheelchair, had yet @ certain resemblance tn voice and gesture to Mrs. De Guen- ther—a resemblance which puzzled Phyllis till she placed it as the mark of that far-off ladies’ school they had attended together. ‘There was also a graceful, mincing white wolfhound which, contrary to the accepted notion of invalids’ faith. ful hounds, didn’t seem to care for his master’s darkened sick room at all, but followed the one sunny spot in Mrs, Harrington's room with a wist- ful persistence, It was such a small spot for such a long wolfhound—that was the principal thing which im- pressed itwelf on Phylils's frightened mind throughout her visit. Mrs. Doe Guenther convoyed her to the Harrington house for inspection # couple of daya after she had ac- cepted some one's proposal to marry Harrington, = (Whether It counted as her future mothor-in-law's proposal, or her future trustee's, ehe Y nove: » The vuly cure bi was that ft did not come from the groom.) She had borrowed a half- cay from the future on purpose, though she did not want to go at all. But the reality was not bad; only a fluttering, emotional little woman who clung to her hands and talked to her and asked useless questions with @ nervous insistence which would have been nerve-wearing for a steady thing, but was only pitiful to a stranger, You see strange people all the time in library work, and learn to place them, at length, with almost as much accuracy as you do your books. The fact that Mrs, Harrington was not long for this world did not prevent Phyllis from classing her, in her mental card-catalogue, a very per- fect specimen of the ing Nagwer, She was lying back, wrapped in ing #ray end ant, en her visitors camo, looking as If the lifting of her hand would be an effort. She was evidently pitifully weak. But she had, too, an ineradicable vitality she could summon at need. She sprang almost upright to greet her Visitors, a hand out to each, an eager flood of words on her Lips. “And you are Miss Bratthwaite, that is going to look after my boy." she ended. “Oh, it ix 40 good of you Tam so glad—T'ean go in peace now Are you sure- sure you will know the minute his dants are the least negligent I. wateh and waten bit them all the time. I tell Allan to ting for me if anything ever tx the least bit wrong-1 am always begging him to remember, [go in every night and pray with him do you think you could do that? But I always cry #0 before I'm through 1 ery and cry my poor, Hove was a strong an And you are sure you nactentions’ At this point Phyllis stopped the flow of Mrs. Harrington's conversa- rmiy, if sweetly Yes, Indeed,” she said cheerfully, But you know, if I'm not, Mr. De Guenther can stop all my allowance It wouldn't be to my own Interest not to fulfl my duties faithfully.” “Yes, that if true,” said Mrs. Har- rington. “That was a good thought sine. My husband always said was an unusual woman where busl- ness Was cc ned.” So they went on the principle that she had no honor beyond working ter what she would get out of It! Al- though she had made the suggestion herself, Phyllis's cheeks burned, and khe was about to answer sharply ‘Thon somehow the poor, anxious, lov- ing mother's absolute ‘prec ation with her son struck ber as right after all. ‘If It were my sop,” — thought Phyllis, “I wouldn't worry about any strange hired girl's feelings either, * * * T promise I'll look after Mr. Warrington's welfare as if he were my own brother!” she ended aloud impulsively, “Indeed, you may trust me." “T am—sure you will" panted Mra, Harrington "You look’ Uke=-a good Firl, and—-and old enough to be re sponsible-—-twenty-olght—thirty%” Not very far from that," Phyllis serenely And you are sure you will know when the attendants are neglectful? T speak to them all the time, but never can be sure, © © © And naw you'd better see poor Allan, ‘This is one of his good days. Just think, dear Isabel, he spoke to ma twice without my ing to him this morning!" “Oh— sald " asked Phylits, tll dix- tll it Harrington actually laughed a her shyness, lighting up like a girl, Phyliis felt dimly, though she tried not to, that through It all her mother-in-law-eleet Was taking ure in the dramatic side of the situa- tion she had engin: “Oh, my di pu must see him. He expecta you," she answered al Most gayly. The procession of three moved down the long room toward a door, Phyliis's hand guiding the wheel-chair, She was surprised. to find herself shaking with fright. Just what she expected to find beyond the door she did not know, but tt must have been some horror, for it was with a heart-bound of wild relief that she finally made out Allan Har- rington, lying white in the darkened place, A Crusader on looked 1 Bf a tomb, Yes, he 2 room's half- Magazine. Tuesday, September 14. 1915 in alli es en featured face and hie long. ctear-out hatde Cae HeBry the wate as ihe Hitenene uf the couch draperies, Hie . . en and waving, Mung bark from his forehead like # crest ad hie dark br the Te ws ond lank nly note uf fied his eyeiide and ely t to taik to her, dar [ bie mother persisted, naif breath, but sUll full of that up ‘bie, Moving energy and ie ¢ which he would probably the laat minute of her life ead the Crusader, @tili tn empty, lntlons tones. fi ther fot talk. Pim tire Hin mother seemed pot at all put hoop te N jon and pity, jat all, Phylity would fe to he to te etill and have that done to you for a term of years. The result of her wonderment war a decision to forgive her unen zis ae future bridegroom — for what whe had at firm been ready to slap him. ently Mrs. Harrington's broath and the three women went ack to the re they bad been r Phyitis and let herself ked to for @ little longer, Then me linpuinively. your won and Just a minute?” she asked, 4 had gone before Mew Harrington permiansion had a her She re her nd wtood by finishes ted in the uname had tien [the white couch again, | Mr. Harrington,” ehe anid elearty, | "l'm worry you're tired, but I'm afraid 1am «olng to have to ask you to listen to me. You know, don't you, that your mother plana to have me marry you, for @ sort of interested Are you willing to have Because | won't do tt un- ain. “i don't mind," sald Allan Harring- ton lat quiet and trustworthy, or De Guen~ ther wouldn't have went you. It will kive mother a little peace and tt | makes no difference to me.” He cloned hia eyes and the subject the same time, | “Well, then, that's all right,” #aid | Phyllis cheerfully, and started to go. Then, drawn back by a sudden, ner- vous temper-impulse, she moved back on him, “And let me tell you,” she added, half laughing, half impertt- nently, “that If you ever get into my lauiet, trustworthy clutches you may have an awful time! You're a very | epoiled invalid,” She whisked out of the room before he could have gone very far with hts reply, Rut he had not cared to reply, apparently, He lay unmoved and un- moving. Phyllis discovered, polsing breath- lews on the threshold, that somehow ashe had seon his eyes. They had been a little like the wolfhound's, a sort of wistful gold-brown, For soma reason she found that 1 Harrington's attitude of abso- ent made the whole aft- jor for her. And on slipped a soll~ nd into her hand as #he dof disliking it whe en- on her finger anf the fish of it In the light, She thanked Mrs. Harrington for it with real grat- itude, Put it made her feel more mothere-in-law, She walked home rather allently with Mra, De Guenther, Only at the foot of the De Guenther steps she “He must have been delightful,” she fald, “when he was ally CHAPTER VI. “TER a week of the old A the Liberry Teacher's visit to the De Guenthers’ and the subsequent one at the Harringtons', and even her apark- queer story she had finished and put back on the shelf, The ring was the most real thing, because {t was some: thing of a worry, She didn't dare to wear it Sho finally sewed tt ina chamots bag that she safety-pinned under her whirt walst. Then she dismissed Hittle time in a Liberry Teacher's life for meditation, Only once in a while would come to her the vision of the wistful Harrington wolfhound fol- light, or of the dusky room where Allan Harrington lay inert and white, and looking like a wonderful carved statue on a tomb. clothes, but not very much, because she had neither time nor money, Mr, De Guenther had wanted her to take some money in advance, but she had she had earned it, and, anyway, it would have made the whole thing so real, she knew, that she would have backed out. to a lover,” defied herself to Mra. De ( with a little wist- ful smile. N ty will Know what have on, any more than they do than ever engaged to marry her made one absent remark, bustling, dusty hard work, ling white ring, seemed part of a loave It at home, nor did she want it from her mind also, ‘There is very lowing bis inadequate patch of sun She began to do a, Uttle to her refused. She did not want it till “And It len'e as If T were going now," Mrs. De Guenther give « scandal- jzed little ery, Her attitude was de- terminediy that it was just an or dinary marriage, as good an excuse for sentiment and pretty frocks as any other, y dear child," she replied firm- ly, “You are going to have one pretty frock and one really good atreet it now, or I will know why! The rest you may get yourself after the wed- ding, but you must obey me tn this, Nonsense!—you can Fret half day, byes Ping T peraet te ra What's ert in for, if he can't favors fo Fs friends!” ™ ul And, it proved that Al- ‘Tran tn Dises < seesa inasooes, hed told her she could hawe the fortman: i ae 8 teen, vt the sort ¥ owt of turn wae vet heard om surprieed to object te frock part of the situation, | « btthe longer, y stolea) young © fuse to have paptty wag for her, and the end of at soot in « salon whieh she had “ye sidered 80 expensty v4 seareely ought to look winde “Mad it better be a Diack ewit?’ Mra. te Guenther on Angela pansed away, but it would chowing proper reapest, mber my own dear ne planned all our mourning outfits while she was dying, It wae Quile © pleasure to her,” fh kept her face straight, persuasive hand throughi? d's arm, lieve I could buy mourn. “And—ol Td wan really blue blue sult! Only, it would + have been tao vivid to wear wi always knew that-—because you afford one only every other year, And’—Phyllis rather difidently voiced 4 thought whi you think Id be best? HBverythi nd in that house seems sombre enougps) no Perhaps you are right, dear child." said Mrs, De Guenther. “I hope yo! may be the means of putting & grew deal of br'thtness into poor Ailan's life before he joins his mother.” “Oh, don't!" cried Phyllis imput- sively. Somehow she could not bea to think of Allan Harrington's dying: He was too beautiful to be dt where nobody could see him at more. Besides, Phyllis privately cot sidered that a long vacation before he joined his mother would be only the fair thing for “poor Allan.” Youth sides with youth. And—the clear-cut white lines of him rose in her mem~ ory and stayed there, She could al most hear that poor, tired, t yet so deep an: te end to find Mrs. De Guenth beaming with the weary rapture cou the successful shopper, and hi the proprietreas of a turquoiséd velvet walking sult, a hat to match, @ pale blue evening frock, a palo green be= tween-dreas with lovely clinging and a heavenly white erepe thi ore rosy ribbons ere re a che eY, jacea—the negligee of one's reany, There were tp 4 shoes? and stockings and—this..was too bad of Mra, De Guenther half- dozen set of lingerie, straight through.% Mrs, De Guenther sat and continued ~ joyously over the array, in 's little bedroom, 3 whe said” It's my present, dearle, calmly. “Soe you needn't tbh abour. using Angela's money. Gracious, It's been lovely! I haven't had suck a mgood time since my husband's littl Krandniece came on for a week ‘There's nothing like dressing @ girl, after all.” And Phyllis could only kias her. But when her guest had gone laid all the boxes of finery ‘under ; bed, the only place where there any room. She would not take any of it out, she determined, ttl her sum- mons came. But on second thought, she wore the blue velvet atreet sult on Sunday visits to Mra, Harrington, which became—#he pever ki when or how—a regular thi Vivid blue made hér eyes ne: color, and brightened her hair mtiafactorily, She was time one haa to live up to a uolse: velvet hat and coat! She found self, too, becoming very fond of the restless, anxtous! ing, passionate, unwise child wi dwelt in Mra. Harrington's. frall "ako derly body and had almost worn out, She sat long hours of every Sun.<® day afternc holding Mrs, 4 rington’s thin litte hot hands and® listening to her swift, italicised mon- olowues about Allan—what he must do, what he must not do, how must be Jooked after, how his moth- er had treated him, how bie wishes Must be ascertained and followed, Though all he wants now te dark and quiet,” said his mother piteously, don't even go in there now te ery, ’ She spoke as {f it were an estad-—. lashed ritual. Had she been using het? son's sick-room, Phyllis wondered, & regular weeping-place?. She coule™ feel In Mrs, Harrington, even in thigy mortal sickness, the tremendous driv- ing influence which ts often part of a passlonately active and not very wise personality. ‘That certitude and in- sistence of Mra, Harrington's could hammer you finally {nto believing or, doing almost anything, Phyllis wont dorer how much bia mogher’s hearts broken adoration And pil might hay had to do with making her son hopeless-minded as he was, aturally, the mother-in-law-elect. she had acquired In such a strangesS way became very fond of Phyllis. But indeed there was something very way and sweet and honest-minded about the girl, 3 something whiche eave people the feeling that they were very wise In liking her. Some” are fond of against youg nm people cared for Phyllia it was with @ quite irrational feeling” that they were doing a sensible things They never gave any of the credit to her very r though almost in- Visible, charm She never saw Allan Ha any of the Sunday vis the servants thou for she knew that ever: great, dark, old house the young lady who was to marry Mrawy Alla She believed that she was, supposed to be an old family f1 perhaps a distant relative. she dige she tonse- * one in the new her as not want to see Allan, But Want to be as to his ly-loving mot 4 et $3 her about And she succeeded. . (To Be A OG ER woe Strays A] PRET BQ PORE