The evening world. Newspaper, March 2, 1920, Page 21

/ i 4 m “The coolness of this place, the PS civeetrutness —and the security.” Her , eeene widened to include the trim| j J ° ‘sweep of lawn and the ancient gable a ofthe house before her, “It's been ‘She. gave her heart to him the day they met. Yet a cloud of mystery hung over his life. Was | "if; @ hidden past? Was it a dual personality ? | Thrills and excitement, suspense and surprise | blend in each fascinating instalment. Miss | May Christie has woven with rare skill this harming story of entangled heart ? Oopyngn' , oy we WHO'S WHO IN THE mw: IM DALTON, a handsome young artist SHIRLEY MARSH, a pretty and att May. Our STORY. who falls in love with gitl, Shirley is also active ew DAVID BURKE, a country gentleman, nearing forty ‘ef DUCILLE, a rather world weary actress, about whose marriagé there Nag emoye ory. = OPSIS OF PRECEDING CHPERE ©. py Marsh, @ beautiful young English. girl. is loved HR avid uted ® wedlthy country genite Dat fefects is suit, Jim Dalton, a Ligon artiaty Wi gootor. acclideg, near) bee ‘Wad Whew Shiviey tas tiurwed Bim back tg health AWAY TriagySate to, -he married Welle Daltew sors te Londan (0 buy tee cing a Worm tay CHAPTER LL. THE BOMBSHEE AYRLEY and the stranger faced atti Othbr in & Henve URAL was tense. Ys “Your—your husband?" ‘ghd WhisterAl at last white, and: with dry lips. “Jim Dalton—your htbana?” >> nw ates The other woman nodded a g@ “My husband!” she repeated ay it changed suddenly, as she added n'a higher key! wiAnd a darned ‘bad husband, toot” “*With a tremendous effort, Shirley pulled herself together, though it @4 to, the young’ girl as though her whole, safe, happy workd were ing in rifim atout her ears. : *“ptiere—there’s surely some mistake,’ gannot—he cotldn't—be your husbard- Cem :"Bocause hte‘ didn't tell you?” supp mthe sncer faded, and a note of ré teu she stammered. “Mr. Dalton he mented the stranger with a sneer. crept into the beau- gially modulated voice as she added ©— “““My! But you're green Ir fed in Shirle smooth young tS wave of red replaced the pallor | ks "RE Nise Shirley's countenance, creep ‘Oh, I mean it as a cor *Hftig Uke a danger signal from the col- | don't misunderstand me,” went on the ‘Wr of her frock up to her forehead. | neweomer imperturbably. “I'm not fo} casting | She was wholly unaccustomesa gpeh frankness. geBut her manner was doubly digni- 1 word—“any aspersions on your as ghe replied, in firm, conclusive | mental It's just that you “nes, that were calculated to end| don't know life the way I know it any persions'"’—she tated for a moment on the unac powers. yp argument: and pray heaven you never will!” “#t want you to know that Mr. Dal-| drank two cups of tea before ion is my fiance.” | she spoke again of “Fiance? 1 should rather | ere! I feel better. And now I omiaseo! replied the candid visitor! ought to introduce myseM properly ‘Then she added, brusquely:~ to you.’ From her elaborate vanity- sft Jim Dalton really has had the | bag she drew forth a card and handed nerve to ask a sweet, trusting little |{t to Shirley, ‘Read that.” | *Ahing like you, to become .his wife,| Tho young girl took the piece of “Then ‘he ought to be shot for the rogue | pasteboard and s inized it eagerly and scoundrel that he i | It bore the w lle. Lucille © “He—he isn't—there’ Derange, variety artist } rds: some dread- fal mistake!” breathed Shirley, wide-| “You guessed 1 was on the stage?” adyed and trembling. She had lost her}resumed the other, I bank 4 aplomb. This handsome stranger: | juxuriously on the rust yh and «with her air of fashion and of world- | n interested fash- ~jjness—she wasn’t in the least like | 4¢ life if you haven't talent, or mone back of you. did you ticular the why—why Jim | or am! It was impossibre that _Agald be entangled with her. . ‘Thon a timely recollection of her @uties as hostess swept over Fhirley ‘fhe, day was warm—ihis “woman 40eked as though she were exhausted She was certainly harboring some wheurd delusion, Perhaps she was (Bven just a trifle mad. | gDo sit down in the shadow of the ; fees over there, and I'll bring you some tea!” Shirley’s active mind eer to woman's panacea for all wills. “A cup of tea will make you feel | quite different. And then we'll clear ©.iis muddle up between us!” 28¥Bhe forced a smile to hide the trem- bling of her pretty lips. Down in ‘her | "*"Meart was a real misgiving and anxi- <gty But she wasn't going to} owhew it. ii “You're a kind little thing—as well SGA being really pretty!” commented | the other gratefully, Compunction| o for a moment in the weary | “eyes, “Don't think I've any grudg gpainst you personally, It isn't y fablame——" When Shirley brought the ine strange woman was once more “seated on the rustic bench below a yetrooping willow tree, with half-closed | "es, and every muscle of the supple efagure relaxed, | Then, choose tea out lfke this for the last six hundred I guess?" young girl nodded. invious!? the other looked at her. ‘ou Pappy, sheltered eee | ae agus,” she said softly. cdeain @ little red flag of protest | the |question timidly, as though fearful jof the answer. “Because—after Jim Dalton desert- ed me, years ago—I'd got to earn some kind ot a living—or starve!’ “Did |Stammered Shirley. Only two days ago Jim Dalton had been telling her of that land of glorious sunlight and |of sweeping veldt, expatiating on its | beauties and its Kl Dorado qualities. | Taeille Derange nodded, and her | | | handsome, rowed as she looked Shirley. “He's been telling you about it, has ave a cynical little laugh | course, he omftted such trifles as our romantic wooing, romantic honey- moon when, does of everything—he abandoned me in a little one-horse town ‘way back on the veldt—to starve!” “There's some mistake Gn oA cme) Aplin. Shirley} Fer! voles Wai ow aren vetwmasical. |, pense, that shriller, less attractive won't (be tion of space SHE DROPPED THE PICTURES PRETTY FACE IN BOTH HANDS Wigy A PATHETIC GESTURE THAT TOUCHED LUCILLE’S HEART. _ SHE'S YOURS—YES, | BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU SAY,” RN i profession Shirley put the out in South Africa three did you say~South Africa?” world-weary eyes nar- searchingly at Well, that’s like his nerve!” She “But, of od highly unromantic sequel Airing suddenly of me as he said Shir- LOVE? | TUESDAY, MA Bye (O) hovered about her pretty lips. She bred in the bone, a down-and-outer! Heaven knows what 1 in him, except—oh good and his charm!” She cleared her throat “The very first time he looked at me with those fine dark eyes of his I knew my hour had struck! And that curly dark head of his, too—there was something so boyish and so ap- pealing about him"— An icy hand of fear gripped Shirley’s heart, Wasn't this woman echoing her—Shirley’s—own opinions? dark eyes” and “curly dark hair’ —and Jim Dalton's “boyishness” was peculiar charm. saw his looks, at in his NGW = THRILCING NOVEL OF THE YEAR +235 Jim four years ago. She sj hands with touched “There, RCH 2, 1920 Seeing’s believ- | titude of exaggerated devotion, etood @ tali-dark-eyed, slim young man in A suit of flannels. Shirley could see once that it was Jim! The second picture whs less clear. But same group of background, Shirley noticed that it was the young man horseback, @ Kaffirs standing in the on ‘The third was Jim's profile, Shirley would have recognized it its clean-cut severity dropped the pictures in her p, and hid her pretty face in both a pathetic gesture that heart. Don't Lucille's there! you worry WHICH WILL BE HER WAY—THE SMOOTH ROAD OF RICHES OR THE ROUGH PATHWAY OF WILL SHIRLEY FOLLOW THE GOLDEN WAY OR TURN TO WHERE LOVE AND ROMANCE WAIT? bravely, determined to crush the dreadful feeling of anxiety and sus- “The Jim Dalton that I know is kind and—and considerate—and a gentieman. He isn’t like that—he"— “It's plain you don’t know a single ing bout hi >. “But * cut in Lucille De- me tell you he's a art of cam- Oh, you aren't the first girl hoodwink let past master at the gentle ouflage he's y modulated he beauti- tones r se to a and you either—in a world ible women!" hirley put imperceptible fra bebween herself and the A little scornful smile the last ul an IN HER LAP AND HID HER | |the jumbled mysteries of her hand- bag. w Yh, here it is!” Envelope in hand, she rose to her feet, She crossed to Shirley's side, “Maybe this'll convince you, ahe| With firm, sure fingers Lucille drew |shed a pinkish glow upon the docu-| ment. Lucille’s white finger traced a little | Path along the lines while she read. |, It was all quite clear and evident Four years ago one James Dalton, bachelor, aged twenty, had married Lucy Smith, spinster, twenty-four, in @ small town near Salisbury. “Smith's my real name. y “There are some snapshots taken of m Lucille was digging deep now into} about him. Shirley | down the lane, away from the pair came st She He isn't worth it rose to her feet, ildly at the other. “He's yours—I—I don’t want him ring any longer. Yes, I believe everything you say. to stop me—I just want Good-bye. No—don't try to be alone said simply. “My marriage certifi-|1—1'1 get over it all right in time cate Good-bye." She dropped the document in Shir- —- es ‘ lap, ‘ A SAFE HAVEN, “You open it—I can't!” There was ; |a piteous appeal in Shirley's eyes—a | VETS whe Wi Mote ae Xb |trapped look, which went straight to | aased Leal bad ertarir| en oe | what she did, rose and flex forth a parchment paper from ita} ful io cover, smoothed it out on Shirley's | feeling of immense humiliation, lap. ‘Tho last rays of the setting wun |! Outraged pride, mingled with her pain and disappointment. What a |ecredulous little fool Jim Dalton must) ave thought her! She—Shirley—had been ridiculous- trusting. Into Love's gamble she 1 plunged most recklessly—and had fost! Along th now dusky country road aling soft strains of melody was nearing the gates of Davi T changed | purke's estate, and through the trees | Lucy to ‘Lucille’ and added on ‘Dé-| she could glimpse the lighted win rang¢’—for stage purposes. But I've ws of the music-room he had built | got lot# of proof my name was Lucy | fo, himself out in the grounds. Smith.” He was t now—playing on his Lucy dived once again into her un- | violoncello—putting all romance | | tidy handbag. [into an improvisation t he had issed in lite, Copyright, 1920, by The Press Publishing ( | should let nature take its course and | tr | her hair to gradually turn | white or gray as her face loses its youthful contour, but it is @ fact that | nine out of every ten women differ froin me Now, finst, we will have to remedy | h the cause of graying hair, which usu- | be ally is extreme dryness, and all sham- poo soaps and mixtures, ¥ ageerate this conditior avoided. Pure castile or {he olive oti aoa, shaved ani melted, whould be|about the care of araylng hain TALKS ON HEALTH AND BEAUTY By Pauline Furlong be causes of gr ruff applied times each h exe, Should “be fihetr app: ‘0. (The New York Prening Worl? Graying Hair. used to wash the hair and after the| ; first soiled suds are removed it ia %| © many readers write me about ee plan to apply more suds to th hair which is turning gray that! hair and wash again, At the second | I shall endeavor to give you a| washing the scalp to remove few simple formulas and rules to fo! try dandruff and scurf, which are yw to prevent this condition, Per- | clogsing the pores and preventing the | gonally, I think ® woman around | natural olla from escaping. It ts forty years‘old or about middle-aged, | solutely essential to e#pray out all aces Of soap before drying the hair, | ause this is one of the greatest aying hair and dry dand- A little olive oll, just » few drops, to the scalp and not to the sir with a medicine dropper, should massaged into the scalp several week, and this will also nt gray hairs from making nee t article I shall tell more Ip prev In my ne anywhere j Pl CS Ee eS nae 5 IMLASY CHRIS rry \ desperate longing came to Shiv- did not speak. Yet her distaste was|ing, you know—so take a good| ley to contide in this kind friend, In evident. square loo! | world that had somehow toppled Ignoring it, Lucille continued: She laid three rather faded pic-|down in ruins, he anyhow stood “Out in South Africa he wan|tures om Shirley's knee {staunch and true. , : everything—to everybody. Transport} In the first of them a boldly hand-| low dusky It was growing, here rider chiefly—farm hand, digger tn |some girl in an elaborately trimmed |p” {M8 sttet country road! | And— the mines, driver of bullock teams, | white frock was smiling straight inte Sg Taiwan age besnghe-ed storekeeper: oh, and professional the camera, Her. prettiness was)" following eerily close to her gambler! But he made good at!rather blatant. Heside her, in anet-lper apa, umm some threaten nothing! He was a rolling stone, Ine Ganges In her over haven of that beckoned to Shi Wrought condition, the lighted music-room ley, Warmth, safety, sympathy, love—it held these things. She darted through the gates, skirted a narrow strip of shrubbery, ran across an open clearing, fam bled a little wildly over the fasten- ing of the studio door, then swung it open, stood there in the aper- tu flushed, #waying, palpitant “Shirley r child: the matter?” David Burke, concern on his kindly features, rose to his feet and faced the girl. and my of her lips prev the ted her. She could only stand dumbly, staring at him—a that pus appoint pathetic n odd note in the rigor- nts of the music-room. little figure struck upset you.” by her aide. what Is it?" she sank down suddenly on a wide an that faced one of the big win- and, straight ahead ot “Shirley—my dear— staring her, said, hopelessly “Nothing’s the matter, David—ex- general rottenness of life!" 1 hands into cept the He lifted one of her su his own strong clasp then, and his voice held a real concern as he made mnswer That doesn't sound a bit like you, my dear! Comé, tell me what's the natter.” Shirley made no sound. Her face vas white, now—rigid, with a curious tensoness. Surke tried a lighter tone. “If is the heart affair gone wrong, hen don't forget the dear old adage that “The course of true love never | did run smo Come, Shirley, I'm ja very ancient friend—tell me about the little quarrel you and Jim have had! Iv’ all come right, you'll “It never will come said | Shirley tragically | HE GLARED AT BURKE WITH HATRED IN HIS HANDSOME ]|viciently—and he was FACE, “WHEN YOU'VE QUITE FINISHED MAKING LOVE FIANCEE, { SHOULD LIKE TO HAVE A ABNF ie why, what's] longer, because—oh, Mr. Burke—he— She tried to speak, but the trembling] of a six-inch shell, | | | “Shirley, something has happened to | In two strides Burke was — oA Burke cleared his throat. An «m-)iety, “Why can't you speak to mem barrassing little lump had come there] With a Httle stifled ery, sbe-aaalk at the sight of Shirley's misery. down on the wide divan and bid Ber “Oh, cheer up, little girl’ Mis} face in both her hands, smile was very kind and full of sym-| Burke stood in front of her, tem- pathy. “It isn't a bit like you to| like, ready again to rear. talk like that “Stand back, you fookI wast to Shirley twisted round on the wide] speak te her.” Anger glinted in divan and faced him, Big tears stood! Dalton’s fine, dark eyes. “Tve in her eyes. enough of all this melodrama!” ie “II can never be the same again.| tried to push Burke askle, T just feel as though life was done,| “You haven't got the and—and finished with. And don't,/ to her—you, a married man!” please, ever mention Jim Dalton’s| “aA—a what?” cried Dalton, oaallp name to me aguin—Hecause I—I can't] taken a@back. He #tdred at ¢ bear it!” as though he hadn't heard “Have you quarrelied with him,|“what—what do you mean?” °, then?” “Miss Shirley here has told et Shirley's tears went trickling down| Burke began. He paused d wttielgm as she answered drearily—— “Hehe my--flance—any certainly, glancing at thé)girl, “Yes—do go on-—-this becomes entertaining!” An unpleasant oil hovered round Dalton's lips. His to per was about to rise again. “If @ifise Shirley had been good enough to ti” you anything, no dowbt she'll be enough to say {t once more tt presence of us both!” ¥ Shirley made o supreme effort to’ pull werself together. She, got Up slowly to her feet and faced them both, “It was this afternoon-« wemam | came to me—she said”—here Shire ley flung @ piteous little look at Dal- ton, as though imploring him te Bai her, to contradict the tale—“she paid that out in South Africa—about four years ago—you—you had married: her"— . “But, of course, you didn’t believe? her?" The words rang out from Dal- | ton like a pistol shot. Why, the wom- an must have been crazy, Shirley!" “Oh, no, she wasn’t—though at, isn't he's got @ wife already!” “The deuce he has!” David Burke beunded to his feet with tlie velocity “The, scoundrel— oh—the blackguard “It—it's quite true—I—I've met her and oh! I'm so miserably unhappy, Davia" — It was then that simple, David Burke quite lost hia head Sinking down at Shirley's feet, he held her two hands in his own, and poured out words of eager love. “Forget this miserable affair, my dear, and marry me! I'l) do every- thing in the world to make you happy—and to teach you to forget! Shirley, I adore you'- The words froze on his lips as the ‘studio door swung open and a tall athletlo figure stood before them, & light of angry jealous»-blazing in ths fine dark eyes, Shirley gave a title kindly ory of: first I thought she was.” Shirley’s “Jim!” tones were dreariness persomified. | But Jim Dalton—drinicing in every} Her sad. eyes fixed themselven em: detail of the romantic scene before |Dalton’s face as she continued: t “She called herself Lucille Derange, though her real name was Lucy’ Smith. She was very handsome, and | — ~and she cares for you—a great deal!” “The deuce she does! Put Ive never heanl of the woman in my fife: before!” A perplexity that y most comical mantied on Dahon, forehead. He stared at Shirley un~ believingly. “Of course, there's some ! ridiculous mistake!” “TI thought #0, too—at dirst.” The | girl's voice was very low. “And then: she showed me photographs—talten | on the honeymoon, she sald—foun years ago.” “But I wasn't out in Atri¢a tour’ years ago,” stuttered Dalton, them / oughly taken aback. “Let me’ eee. I was in London—no—hang it Glee | can't remember”-——— His sudden embarrassment seemed to the other two a veritable prog? or muilt. him—waa beside himself with fury. “So, Shirley, this is the kind of girl you are, stealing out here—alone, and at this hour—to meet your lover!" He glared at Burke with hatred on his handsome face. “When you've quite finished making love to my fiancee, I should be glad to have @ word with you—you cad!” he cried. MISUNDERSTANDING. AVID BURKE rose to his feet, | D and in two strides was across the room and facing Dalton. His usually benignant countenance was now one blaze of anger. “How dare you break into my studio in this fashion?" His eyes flashed fire. “And how dare an im- postor like yourself speak ofglove— and lovers—a rogue like you who cannot understand the meaning of the word?” He flung @ protective arm round Shirley, who, too, had risen bis aa “You don't rem . re ou fost oo hes standing close beside | were 9 i ye relies ‘Daria | ahd eapibrhapire Burke. “Doesn't that seem a értie “1 don’t in the Feast understand the | 0449 > | meaning of thin scene, although it's quite apparent that you're attempt- ing’—Jim's Mps curled in a curious little smile that maddened Burke— ‘attempting to steal my girl away from me. Needless to say, you won't succeed—for all your bluster!” He turned to Shirley. His boyish face softened perceptibly as he added: “My dear, I've got the ring.” But Shirley, white to the lips, could only look piteously at her quondam lover, and found no adequate word to Tt was then that Dalton let ‘tim temper. “Mind your own business, and dom Interfere In my affairs! This 4s ¢. matter entirely between Ghirley ena) myself—-" « “Oh, no, it isn't--upon the contrasy.’ A combative gleam flickered Burke's face. “It's very much my, business. Anything that Miss Shirley is my business.” } “The dickens it is!" cried furiously annoyed. ‘We'll soon that right!" He swung around, on Shirley. “I want a straight answer’ to a straight question—are you or ere you not—engaged to me?” “I—I thought I was,” muttered the young girl. Tears stood im ber pretty eyes. “You ‘thought you were’? Whatdo you mean by that? Don't beat about the bush! Answer me, Shirley!” =< She lifted up her head, brushing the tears aside. “It—it’s only a travesty of an en. | fsagrement—for you belong to some- one else.” she said. | Jim Dalton recoiled as though he |had received an unexpected blow, “You surety don't believe the tar- jradiddles of a crazy woman? | “She wasn’t crazy, Jim “An impostor, anyhow! “But she had proof.” “You her word—against my wn" “II don’t want to—but I hat She—she proved it all!" | Jim Dalton took a step backwards |and surveyed the other two, his eyes travelling from Shirley's small, eet face to David Burke. “A pretty little plot, engineered be- tween the two of you, to get rid of me!" he sneered, “but it doesn’t de- ceive me in the least!" He swung around on David Burke. “I always knew you bad a sneaking, underhané determination to get Shirley away from me, you cad!" His volee broke huskily, “Well, you can have her— for I'm through!” He wheeled around, without @ ond glance at Shirley, strode the music rapm, the door gone! hirley, what on earth's the mat- Jim's tones held a tense anx- take i er li | ASR SY) Le See nee ae I a men nT Ses ccseiiials