The evening world. Newspaper, November 29, 1915, Page 15

ta aeadeneeleaelaaeiens mie ottiatentananenenemeateeae aimee “mother.” The Evening World Daily Magazine, Monday. November 29, 1915 iTHE W ) peoesooesees HITE ALLEY The Mystery of a Man Who Vanished and of a Fortune That Didn't Pee eSOSO ESOS Wopsridht, 1016, by the J. B. Lippincott Oo.) CHAPTER I. White Birches. “Oh, Justin,” she cried, Portico, “we've had such a time! T'thought we'd never got here!” “There, there, Dorothy, don't be LMOBT before the big motor car stopped the girl aprang out. Lap Tobes flung aside, veils fying, gauntlet carnation of youth, mayety and modernity, pping, she was the tn- as she ran up the steps of the great Two punctures and a blowout! a ee Let me greet your Dorothy Duncan pouted at the rebuke, but stood aside as Justin Arnold went forward to meet the older lady. “Dear Mrs, Duncan,” he said, “how do you do? Are you tired? Have you had a bothersome journey? Won't you sit here?” Mrs. Duncan took the seat offered, and then Arnold turned to Dorothy to help unfasten her motor veil. “Just,” she sald, “why can't you Jearn to do such things? How can I # through life with a man who can't get my head out of a motor vell? By the way, Justin, you haven't kissed me yet." She lifted her lovely, laughing face, and, a trifle awkwardly, Arnold bent and Kissed the rose-leat cheek. Justin Arnold was one of those men whose key hote seemed to be re- retraint. The kiss he gave his flancee was formal but significant, like the seal on a legal document. It exas- perated Dorothy, who was accus- tomed to have her very glances sought for, her words treasured and hér smiles breathlessly awaited. To “have a kiss almost ignored nearly sep me took her off her foet! “H'm," she said; “not very lover- Ike, but I suppose you're embarrassed at the audience who has strolled into the room. Come, mother, let's go to our rooms and—— Ohb, there's Letla Duaneé Hello, girlie!” Another motor came purring up, and a@ tall, graceful girl stepped out and joined the party on the veranda, ‘With a calm correctness of manner, she greeted her host, Justin Arnold, and acknowledged an introduction to Dis secretary, Ernest Chapin. Then, turning to Mrs, Duncan and Dorothy, she chatted gayly after the manner of reunited friends. “How heavenly to be here for a hhousé party! But 1 thought we'd never get in at those forbidding look- ing gates, It's like a piente in a Bas- tille or something! Don't you just love itt” “T love it with a lot of people arqund,” returned Dorothy, “but it Is Bagtille-ish—in spots. However, as it's to be my life prison, I must get ‘used to it.” “A prison, Dorothy,” sald Arnold sternly. “You look on it like that?” “Of couree I do! But you will be a gentle jailer, won't you, Justin, and Jet me out once in a while to play by > yself? “By yourself!” cried Leila; “mi {ne Dorothy Duncan playing by her- self! You mean with half a dozen of our grovelling slaves!” ‘i “Are you sure, Mr. Arnold,” Inughea “you can keep our Dorothy tn You know she is a super- “Was, you mean.” corrected Ar- nol, calmly; ‘Dorothy's flirting days re over.” Ore crothy glanced at him, about to n @ gay and saucy retort, but solething in his fuce deterred her, ‘and she Contented herself with. ide glance and smile at Ernest Chapin, whieh revealed grnall evidence of er baer! to Arnold's state ouberhere is Miss Wadsworth?”, she asked; “such a dear, quaint, thing, Leila.’ You'll adore her! She's Jus- tin’s cousin, and, incidentally, his enough like her to be his own cousin! Where is she, Just? “Bhe will see you at tea time,” he replied, “She begs you will excuse her until then.” White Birches was one of the finest old places in America, and took its name from the trees which covered & 1 art of its 100-acre estate. “forth of New York City, on Wi ington Heights, it was scarcely near enough to the metropolis to be called @ suburb; yet, easily accessible by ‘steam, trolley ‘or motor car, White Rirches was a delightful home for its = occupants, and most hospitable to the stranger within Its gates. Justin Arnold, who had Inherited the place, kept its grim old boundary walls intact, and had connected its big iron gates with an electric bur- gler alarm. He also employed a night ‘watchman. There were teleg wires, all laid in under duits, to prevent their being cut, and these gave quick communication to the police or the fire department in eed, corre guests followed Mrs, Gar- the housekeeper, upstairs, Do ph and telephone tind con~ pool paused and detained Arnold a ent. more lovely of you,” she sald, smil- ‘and dimpling at him, “to make ty for me, And I'm so glad Tm here first. I like to be first part of a party.” “You're the party of the first part,” aid Arnold, smiling at his own rather vy attempt at wit. be ran pone fall, October, in merry mood, was gaily pelting the flying Year with her red and gold leaves; showering them like cSnfett! on bride. White Birches was looking its best, or one of Its bests, for the " winter and the green of iyune Vave it different but no less coloring. Lacing Wadsworth, a cousin of Justin Arnold's, was nominally the head of the house. Although a capa- bie housekeeper and a complete corps of well-trained servants relieved her of all household cares, Miss Abby felt and enjoyed the responsibility of her postion Of course she would soon have to abdicate in favor of Dorothy Duncan, but she was really glad that Justin was to be married at last. He was a man of forty years, and had grown s0 eonfirmed in his bachelorhood that Miss Abby had feared he would never succumb to any feminine charms, And then he had met Dorothy Dun- can, lovely, bewitching, coquettish Dorothy, and he had Immediately de- cided to marry her, He had no doubt as to her willingness, for was he not the wealthy Justin Arnold, master of ‘White Birches, and scion of an aristo- cratlo name and lineage? Nor had Mise Duncan hesitated, Slightly daz- ~sled- by the wonderful good fortune fat Bad come to her, she bad ap- He bungtied. swered yes to his question, and now the ding day was only a few weeks hence. Dorothy was twenty-two and tensely romantic; but if it ever seemed to her that there was a dis- crepancy between her own age and that of her lover, or if she demonstrations of affection, she never shared her thoughts with any one, | | { in.! and even her own mother had no rea- | fon to believe otherwise than that Dorothy was supremely happy. The week-end party at White Birches was partly by way of an an- nouncement of the engagement and partly because Dorothy had requested it. The girl loved social Fayety. and to be the central figure of this merry occasion, yet without being the ac: tual hostess of White Birches, ap- Pealed to her. Letina Duane, the only other young Ld! present, Was a complete foil for rothy, Leila's fair beauty, her golden hair and blue eyes and her pale blue crepe gown, set off vividly Dorothy's glowing type, her dark hair, her flashing brown eyes and rosy cheeks, Two young men, Emory Gale and Campbell Crosby, partners of the Philadelphia law firm that managed Justin's affairs, were fellow guests, Crosby was Justin's cousin, nest Chapin, Arnold's secretary, was also in the group that gathered on the veranda a little later. The other guests were Mr. and Mrs. Fred Crane, he a naturalist devoted to his cause, and his wife a pretty little woman with sharp eyes and a sharp tongue, but whose brightness and vi- vacity made her an attractive guest. She was @ distant cousin of Justin Arnold, and the Cranes were frequent visitors at White Birches. But though all present were inter- esting or charming in their several ways, all were dominated by the pres- ence of that most important person- “#2. Miss Abby Wadsworth. eré are some women who pos- seas the power of making their pres- enoe felt, and that without any ap- parent effort. Miss Wadsworth was one of these. She had only to sit in her accustomed easy chair, and her very presence demanded and re- ceived recognition and respect. She was perhaps sixty years ol cousin of Justin Arnold's father, and her manner gave the impression that to be a Wadsworth was far more im- portant than to be an Arnold, or in- deed any other name in any social register. Crosby chanced to mention a mys- terious looking tarn, or pool, among the grounds. Somewhat against the Jealous Justin's with, Dorothy ac- cepted the lawyer's invitation to stroll out and look at it, The tarn did not come up to Dorothy's hopes, and she frankly sald go as they re- turned to the others. Meantime Mrs. Crane and Miss Abby had fallen into confidential chat. “If Justin didn’t marry,” Mrs, on pe- asked, “what would eventually come of the property?” "Campbell Crosby is really the next heir.” said Miss Abby, “though he belongs to a different branch of the family.” “Campbell Croaby seems out of place in @ home like this.” “But when he was a boy he used to be here for months at a time. He liked it then well enough. Though eieht years younger than Justin, they were good comrades, and wherever Justin would go Campbell would fol- climb} low. My! I've seen then : e slopin, turret roofs and walking sround the tower battlements till tt rly made my hair stand on end. They, were harum-scarum boys. And Campbell is that still, though Justin quieted down as he grew older, “Yes, Justin seema very staid.” said Mabel Crane, “though I dare say his marriage to a bright young thing like Dorothy will have a rejuvenating ef- him.” et Gare say," add Miss Abby dryly, “and of course It cuta Campbell out of the Inheritance. I've no doubt Justin will leave him a handsome legacy tn hia will, but of course Dor- 111 be his hetr.” Crosby, crossing the veranda, heard 6 words. , tht ear Misa Abby," he sald, “I don’t think I've ever given you reason to talk like that, I've never looked upon myself as heir to White Birches, and I wouldn't want it anyway, though I don’t mean that for ‘sour grape: T hope old Just will live heaps of years yet to enjoy tt, and Dorothy, too. His voice broke a little as he men- tioned the girl's name, and, as his h rers were well aware of his feeling toward her, they quite understood Just then Arnold came by paused to listen “No, old Just," and Crosby turned to his'cousin, "I don't want your for- tune and I don't want this feudal castle of yours, but unless you're pretty careful, I'll kidnap your girl and carry her off.” “You can’t do it, Cam," and Arnold put his hand on the other man's shoulder; “not only is the burglar alarm in’ good working order, but I've added some modern contraptions, that make it impossible for anyone to got in or out of White Birches unbe- knownst “Love laughs at locksmiths," said Campbell, “By the way, Cam," said Arnold, “I want you and Gale to draw me up a new will, I'm going to leave a fairish little sum to you, whether you want it or not; and a bunch to Cousin Abby, and a good bit to Driggs and Peters,"* “And the housekeeper?” ‘Oh, yes, Mrs. Carson, But these legacies are the same as they stand in my present will." “Oh, cut ft, Justin! You're only making this will because you think and t | | | fl The Day of Rest ot =) ——_ FIVE More WAFFLES, REAL HOT PLEASE HURRY UP JOHN ANOTHER CROWD, Just CAME ANOTHER ORDER oF WAFFLES FOR EVERYBODY NEVER MIND - KEEP WAFELING .ITS A GREAT it devolves on the head of the house of Arnold to do that sort of thing. Don't bother about it for the present. You'll be married in a few weeks, and then Dorothy will be your legal heir, and you can fix up your will and that ‘precious legacy to me after- ward.” “You're a good sort, Campbell. 1 have got a lot of things to attend to before the wedding, so perhaps it would be as well to leave that matter until afterward, Any way, | suppose I'd better take up the subject with Gale. It might be less embarrassing, as I'm not going to leave him any- thing. Or, if you prefer, I'll get an- other lawyer for the purpose.” “Do as you like, old chap; but T say, Just, I wish you'd let me off from being your best man I'm hard hit by that little b witch, and, confound It! a fe to stand tamely by and fairly assist another fellow to marry the girl he cares fol “Why, Cam, I didn't know you were so serious as all that, Of course, I'll let you off, if you Insist. Chapin contd be my best man, I suppose—or Gale—or even Fred Crane. There are plenty of fellows, but I expected to hove you, “Well, I'd rather you'd get some one else, if you will, I say, Justin, do you remember the day we climbed t turret? Shinned up the outside! We were a turesome pair of kida, wer" weren't “Yes; I expect there were mighty few places about this old house that wo didn't climb up or over or through.” “And you used to boost me up Into all sorts of dark holes where you were too big to get in yourself, and I felt honored to be used for such a pur- pose! We never climbed over the wer ‘o, We never could manage that. ‘sa pretty good wall, Cam.” s, as walls go. But I think It's a blot on the Jandscaps. It's of no earthly use; why don't you tear It down?" “Taar it down! rating the house to the ground! ‘a stunning old pile, tsn't It? CHAPTER I. With Dancing Steps. T'd as soon think of It's NNER next night was a gay function, A few rueats had been invited to dine J and more would come later. Dorothy was grandly be- witching in @ frock of rearlet chiffon For the first hour of the dance she Wan overwhelmed by partners. At last, Ernest Chapin came to her to clatm a waltz, Justin drew her astde for an instant to complain half! fokingly of the number of dances) she had given Crosby. He added: ‘I give you falr warning: every time I see you with him, I'm coming | to take you away. I only wish I| could dance myself, and then no| other man should have a single turn.” "You're an old fogy, Justin!” she finshed, “You can't dance, and you can't play bridge, and you can't do} much of anything gay and folly!" ‘Then, as a dark frown settled on her lover's face, she whispered, close to his ear, “But I love you,” and then turned quickly, to find Ernest Chapin walting for her, “Don't let's dance; let's sit It out,” said Chapin, leading hor to a cornér of the veranda. sat. She was always ready for mis- chief and she liked Emory Gale, but, too, she honestly wanted her future It was secluded from passers-by, husband to realize that it wae her in- and as Chapin paused and drew Dor- tention to danoe all she chose and as othy to him, in the dark of its she chose, both before and after ber marriage to him. So, as they neared Arnold, their step became more daring, their pose shadows, he whispered passionately, “Dear, I can't stand it! 1 can’t see you with him, and ece bis air of ownersh!p of you!” more relaxed, an though it meant “But I'm going to marry him. Why Nothing to the dancers, Arnold saw it shouldn't he show an air of owner. id went white with fury, Without rs but ship?” Dorothy spoke coldly, looking at her flance, Dorothy kept she was trembling, and her large eyes her earnest gare on Gale, partly to lifted themselves’ to Chapin's face Watch his intended direction, and aa much to tease the man who looked angrily after her. “He's madder'n hops,” announced Gale, cheerfully; “shall we go round again Dorothy had lost her head a little in the Whirling rhythm, and she only whispered, "Yes," and went on dj ping and swaying to the enticing mu- with @ despairing glance, He clasped her two little hands tightly in his own, “You are selling yourself to him!” he exclaimed, in tense, low tones. “You know you | me, and yet you are marrying Arnold because he is ric “It 1s not so! You have no right to talk to me like that! 1 adore hi I worship the ground he walks on!” sic. “You blessed baby!” said Chapin, ‘he music stopped, and flushed and putting his arm around her. “The a little breathless, but indescribably very emphasis you put on those ridic. lovely, Dorothy, leaning on Gale's ulous words proves how false they arm, aauntered to Arnold's corner. are, Dorothy, dearest, tell me just ‘There, Justy, how do you like our once that you do love me, and I will very latest achievement?” and Dor- let you go. othy bridied with pretty vanity. “You must Jet mo go, anyway, If there was one thing Arnold hated Ern Don't hold me, please don't! it was to be called “Justy,” and Dor- st ent.” hy knew it hief was In the ou may come back at any m Hut her spirit of mis- dant to-night, 1 don't care, I wish he would! and she couldn't re iding fuel to Dorothy, how can you marry that the flame she had already aroused, man, almost old enough to be your “It's absolutely disgraceful, Doro- father? How can you sel] yourself thy, and I forbid you ever to give for wealth and high position?” such an exhibition again But Dorothy's senses had returned. dh, come, now, old chap,” said “I'm not doing anything of the sort, Mr. Chapin, and | command you to stop talking to me like that, As you know, I never even saw you until after I was engaged to marry Mr. Arnold, If I had met you soone = a little break in Dorothy's Chapin whispered despair. : "Oh, darting, If you only “And now,” Dorothy went on, “there is nothing more to be said on this subject—now or ever. It Is not hon- orable tn you, Mr, Chapin, nor in me. In a few weeks I shall marry Mr. Arnold, and I hope I may trust you never to aay anything of this nature to me again.” “I hope you may trust me, Doro- thy,” said the man brokenly, “but I know T cannot trust myself. “At least we can try,” satd Dorothy in a tow voice, and then without an- other word they returned to the danc ing room. Gale was Dorothy's next partner. ale, “don't he ae old-fogy and back woodsy and hidebound"— “And old-maidish,” put in Dorothy, nd dog-in-the-mangerish! Just be- Ause you can't dance needn't revile my skill in that direction “And, by Jove, skill it is!" med Crosby, who had come up. wy, Dorothy, L never saw any one put that through as you did! The next is ours, isn't it?” ndeed it isn't,” laughed Dorothy, The next is Mr, Gale's.” This was too much for Arnold, Taking Dorothy's arm a little firmly, he led her into the next room, which was the big, cozy living room, “Help, help!" called Dorothy, laugh- her shoulder, and Gale and Crosby followed the pair 1 when there were thy Aung herself among 4 heap of cush- ‘Now scold," she said, looking up Roth knew how to exaggerate or at her tortured lover prune the éffects of the more conspic am going to scold you, Doro- uous dances, and Dorothy gleefully he began, but she interrupted, consented to ba led around towar! "No, you're not!” and sprang up and the corner of the room where Arnold faced him, ONE OF THE MANY THOUSAND PEOPLE WHO ARE READING THE EVENING WORLD'S Complete Novel Each Week? 1f not, you are robbing yourself ef the richest fiction treat ever offered to the readers of a newspaper. The Evening World, every week, prints a nove! by some famous author, These novels are issued complete in six larg: ly inetalments. They are selected with a view te suiting the tastes of all readers. demonstrated, And the tremendous success of the in hae long In The Evening World's “COMPLETE NOVEL EACH WEEK” eories ie the foremost work ef such “best-seller” authors as Robert W. Chambers, M. Roberts Rinehart, Rupert Hughes, James Oliver Cur- wood, Morgan Robertson, Margaret Widdemer, George Randolph Ches- ter, Louis Joseph Vance, Edgar Rice Burreughs and many othere of equal celebrity, There was a tense, breathless mo- on, there's the music again! Let's and dance.” bs CHAPTER II. Scolding Is Barred. LL the next day Dorothy de- A wan s0 sweet and docile and Altogether angelic that her lover concluded he had at Inst learned the way to manage her! Though the house party had been |asked only for the week-end, moat of the muests were easily persuaded to stay a few days longer. | ory Gale and Campbell Crosby | were the only ones who were unable to accept their host's invitation to remain longer at White Birches, Busl- Ness called them, they declared, and they Were obliged to leave at noon on Monday for Philadelphia, It was reached the station in Philadelphia, What are you doing to-night?" asked Gale as they parted, “Dunno, Depends mostly on what letters and stuff 1 find waiting for me, We ought to get together and taik over that Herrmann caso.” ; e's that data I gave you or?” hunt it out when I get to the hotel “AIL right; and you'd better drop in at the club to-night, I'm going to dine there, and then (il tell you it I've had any word trom Herrmann, There's lotx of detall to be attended to in that case, “T'll call you up and let you know what [ can do, later. S'tong, old man.’ They parted, and Crosby went di- rectly to the hotel where he made his home. Gale had rooms in a bachelor Apartment house, but Crosby declared that a ble hotel waa the only place wher uld get decent service surroundings, rm eight o'clock Croab; » telephone, ani to Gale's greeting. ap.” Gale said, “don’t come to-night unless you choose. I've promised to make up rubber going with some fellows, and I’ home rly." pai returned Crosby; “I was halt inclined to go to the Orchestra Concert, and [ believe I will Hag. gensdorfer {8 on the programme, and I simply can't stay away, Want to drop in there later?” “No, T believe not. Pl play around here for awhile and slide home See that you get around to the office In some decent time to-morrow ing, and bring that memo.” “All right; I will, Goodby.” “Goodby;” and Gale hung up th receiver, rather relieved than other. wine at Crosby's defection, for he made up hla mind to write to Lelia Duane that evening, in pursuance of Crosby's suggestion that he should hasten bis wooing, And @ letter like that required time and concentra- tion of thought. However, Gale returned to his rooms fairly early, and wae getting ment, as if the two wills measured ready to turn in for the aight when, @gainst each othe: Yorothy stood, one hand resting na library table, phone bell rang. noon after eleven o'clock, Bia t her parted Hips matching her acarlet = 1t was Cre ain, and he began frock, her eyes and hair black a# his convers: ‘ion with voluble praise night, and her compelling glance of tho concert, holding Arnold's own. Watching “Oh, let up,” sald Gale, “Tell me closely she saw hit trifle and she knew she had won The reaction left her @ little em- barrassed, for both Gale and Crosby were watching the scene In her ner- vousness Dorothy fingered the ar- ticles on the table and chanced to touch a Spanish dagger lying there. Tt was a dangerous looking affair, and though there for the purposes of a paper cuter, it was rarely used, and even the parlor maid touched it gin- gerly when dusting. Dorothy's face broke into smiles, and grasping t thing, she struck an attitude like & miniature and very modern Judith, and cried: “Stop looking daggers at me, Jus- tin, or Twill return your glance thus!” With a mock-tragio gesture she pointed the dagger Arnold's heart, and then, tossing it back on the table, ehe smiled and satd “No, I'll punish you this way, In- stead,” and rising on tip-toe’ she kissed him lightly on the cheek Not yet accustomed to this vola- tility, Arnold looked first bewildered, then pleased, then embarrassed “Dorothy!” he mumbled, “before peo- ple!" “Oh, these people don't mind; do you, boys?” and Dorothy smiled care- lessly at her audience of two. Then she picked up the dagger again. “ love the feel of these things,” she said, running her Uttle forefinger lightly along the blade. “I think my ances- tora were pirates and Spanish danc- ing girls! A stab in the dark!” and making a hings toward Gale, she as- sumed the attitude of a small but very ferocious pirate. - "Dorothy! for heaven's sake, behave yourself!” cried Arnold; “put that thing down “All right,” and Dorothy laid the dagger in its place; “but I do feel dramatic, Mayn't I play tableaux, Justin? “Play whatever you like if you don't touch that flendish thing! I'll have It thrown away!" “No, don't!” cried Dorothy, “I just love it! Give it to me, won't you, dear, for a wedding present? Rut you'll have to if you give me ‘all your wo: Arnold , and Gale sald curlously, "A ‘ou afraid to atir him up like tha: “T'd be afraid not to,” and Dorothy spoke without a smik must get him used to my foolishness if I ex- pect to havg any fun at all after Vm married,” “But will you be married tf you go ouch further in thix mad career that you're pursuing to-night?” ‘Oh, ves, if I want to, I'll give Justin a little while to calm down ind then I'll go and ‘make up.’ 4 great little old make-upper, | “But ho'a pretty mad just now, said Crosby, who ki Arnold thor- oughly, “No matter,” and Dorothy tossed her ourly head. “He's been pretty mad lots of times, but I can manage him.” "I wish you weren't going to marry him," blurted out Cromh “Bo do I~ sometime: d Dorothy drew a sigh that might have been genuine or merely for dramatic ef- fect “Lf be over scolds you ['ll kill him!" ; Crosby declared, and Dorothy, smil- Ing, returned, “He'll never scold mo. Uf be doos I'll kill bim myself! Come nouth relax a the rest in the morning. I'm off to by-by.”” “But hold on, Gale, that Isn't all T wanted to aay. I find I've left that memo at White Birches—had tt there last night, looking over tt. I had it with some other papers in an old wal- let, and left the whole business on the dresser in my bedroom.” “Oh, hang It, Crosby! You do beat the dick with your forgetfulness! How'm Lever going to make a lawyer ut of you unless you get over your elossnesn?"* Don't scold, Emory. I didn't go for to do it, And, T say, I'll telephone to Driggs right away, and he'll send it right bang over here by registered mail and spectal delivery and all those things.” You'd better walt till morning to telophone—they’re probably having « party or something; and t suppose we can get along without that stuff to- ™ ‘ow. But you do make mad.” Yen, T know I do,” respon Cros- by cheerfully, “Guess Til say good- night before you get any madder.” “Cood-night,” replied Gale shortly. ‘Get around to the office on time to- morrow morning.” When Crosby turned up Tuesday morning at 9 ovclock, fully fittean minutes ahead of time, full of apolo- xies for his carelessness, Gale only sald, "Never mind, old chap, Herr- mann can walt a day or two mors “TL telephoned Driggs this mornin, a » “long about 8 o'clor he'd whnek tt right over here, y, Drigga!” he—-did he About Miss ise of your absence? i G say—anything Duane pining away No, be did “Oh, atuft!" sald Gale. “Chuck It, and get to work, now that you're here.” And then the two men really de- voted thefr thoughts and efforta to the business tn hand bec After Gale and Crosby had. left White Birches much of the life of the A) Laila was plainly jled to notice ty seemed vone. rait, She had not fi had pe that Mr, € vinced an interest in her attracts if, and she hated to have that interest cut off in its youth and beauty, As for Dorothy, she had only her flance and his sec- retary to flash her smiles at, and that was a begearly portion of men for the unlimited number of smiles she had at her disposal, And so when Leila attempted to appropriate Br- neat Chapin, Dorothy showed fight. After all, It was the old. situation, Dorothy cared for Mrnest Chapin, but he was poor, Justin Arnold was an . dictatorial, and @ good deal of « bore, but he was rich, Perhaps Dorothy was neither more mer less nary than other girls, but she made up her mind to marry Justin Ar i, and she had no Inten- tion of allowing her heart te interfere with her plans, This, however, did not wreyens her from smiling at Chapin, and thy's siniles were Ike fuel to a flame, And so fascinating was this game that Dorothy became more and more daring, more and more interested in Ernest Chapin In a spirit of mischief Dorothy de- termined to be yery demure that night. She put on a almple little white frock, with knots of Nght green voted herself to Arnold, and gow, bout 5 o'clock when they he “Its in my. duffle, somewhere. Til ¢ early, colored flower beds here ribbon. She parted her. ena Drushing out its rebellious aa much as possible, she drew over her eara, and into @ loose knot at the nape of her neck, which had the effect of making her look like a mischievous Saint Cecilia, Ihe cheoked an Lig to dance ‘nataire, and walked down slowty, Mh Ser Sends hanging crossed i front of her, and, as she ‘tully expected, she met Arnold in tne art “Good heavens, Dorothy! what have you been doin “Don't you me?" An angelic emile was on the face upturned to his, and the corners of the dimpled mouth drooped In saintly fashion, “Why, [ don't know whether T or not. What's It for? I never what you're up to.” “Oh, Justin, that's the troublat Never know anything! Why don't Sou have any perception or understand- Ing, or inter—what do you call it tn terospection ?” Interospection! ‘There's, no awen T Just made it ‘word and it mi if you love a little girl, you ought to understand what she means, even when she doesn't mean anything.” “Dorothy,” and Arnold looked at her, hot entirely with approbation, “I do believe there's nothing to you wut frivolity!” rothy pouted. “You if you loved me.” biinenape.’ ‘Of course [ love you, but I'm not bd fy Smenstrative oo you eedn't expect az earth ‘pect @ foolish show of af. “I Just love a show of ft affec- tion,” murmured Dorey During dinner and indeed ail the evening she kept up her role of de- Mure quietness. Later in the evening, and after the dinner guests had 5 Arnold took Dorothy out for rein stroll around the grounds, meon- light made the white bireh tren even more silvery of bark, and turned thelr foliage to black velvet. Deop down in the ravines could be seen silver lights on the black water, and the autumn wind murmuring in the trees gave an added touch of solemn grandeur, “Tt is a Legh gneg said Dor. othy, @ little thrilled aa she stood on the South Terrace and looked down into the dark tangles of the woodland; “but not—mot very oheerful, is it, Jus- tint place, Dorothy, buek * @ magnificent fear you're tnoapable * lating it. You would iprepbabiy pre fer Malian formal gardens and grea: sweeps of sunny lawn, with gay and there.” | "Well, yea,” said Dorothy; that would Lo tye O But if woutant fit White Birches, would it, Justin?” og coast eas pore jes: ize that. unique, and as for that great arched gateway, I doubt if many English Parks oan match it. We Arnolds ap- preciate the deur and trust Dorothy, that yo : wu leave to Geen you, too, will “Oh, Justin, you give me so much to learn! How can one RelNomense, Dorothy! ae os ar nse, ae y on into As the ladies took up their bedroom candies and went upstairs, leaving the men to spend a half hour in the smoking room, Dorothy called down from the upper landing, “Don't for- get to put on the burglar alarm, Jus- tin, Somebody might come and carry me off,” It was characteristic of Arnold that he answered seriously, forgotten it yet, Dorothy,’ nored the latter part of her speech, The burglar alarm was rather a standard joke among guests at White Birohes, but thie had never interfered with Justin Arnold's systematic ob- servance of the old custom, Dorothy stopped in Leila’s room for a oat, then passed on toward her own room. As she turned a corner of the dimiy lit corridor she felt herself suddenly ret by @ pair of strong arms en1 irawn quickly between some heavy draped eurtaing, and out onto @ tiny balcony. “"shi" whispered Ernest Chapin's volee, close to her ear. “I've kid- napped you! You said some one might, so I thought I'd be the one!” “Unhand me, villain!" whispered Dorothy, gliggiing at the “I declina to be drawn behind the arras and carried to who knows what fearful fate!” ‘No more fearful fate than to look at the moon for two minutes, It's marvellous from this balcony, shin- ing on that little dark pool.” Come and see." Not entirely unwilling, Dorothy let herself be led out on the little bal- cony, and, to do Chapin justice, the moonlight effect was quite all he hat claimed for It. Dorothy knew perfectly weil she ought not to be out there alone with Ernest Chapm, but a sort of reaction had followed her demure mood, and she murmured, “Just a minute, then. I won't give you but just exactly one minute,” “Then I shall make the most of It,” said Chapin, quickly clasping her in orothy, my darling, dn't do this, but I know, I know, you love me. You don’t love Arnold! nd, oh, sweetheart, don't marry Don't sell yourself for the A: noid fortune! Come to me, dearest, for you know, you know, you love a The sweetness and nearness of Dorothy and the maddening effect of the moonlight had caused Chapin to lowe all caution, and, though low, his deep tones were clear and distinct, A cold, hard voice followed his own: “Oh, no, she doesn't love yor, Chapin. You're awfully mistaken! She may be dirting with you—it's one of her bad habtte—but she doesn't love you. “I do.” declared Dorothy, irritated by Arnold's calm statements and cut- ting manner. “No, you don’t, Dorothy, You're « little affected by the moonltgbt, but yee not in love with a LJ aho eneath you socially, and 10, Imel- dentally, 16 & coward and a traitor to the man who employs him,” Stop!" cried Dorothy, shan't talk so about the man I “You hear, Arnold,” said » with a laugh that was a little un- steady, He still held Dorothy in Ris arms, and a8 Arnold step out on bop pelsony the pair n , to your room, Arnold,, quietly; “I will ois ‘ (T% ‘ontinued.) las, hee