The evening world. Newspaper, April 29, 1922, Page 14

Saanas Stee eee ee ae @f obstinacy: ‘Yes, that's what 1 Mean; if 1 hadn't had you as a sort of guardian spirit—well"—— He broke off again. ‘Do you mind, Dor- othy?’’ he asked wistfully. She shock her head, not trusting herself to speak. “It wasn't always easy,” went on the bewildered young man, ‘You can understand that I couldn't have kept your picture if I'd cut loose and fol- lowed the family bent. I suppose I've ho right to be talking to you this way, have I? But, you sec, I've known you so long! It% ‘te Russian tm me that makes me talk too much." She seized upon this, ‘‘Russian? Then you are a Wyckoff. "Yes. Alanson Wyckoff." “I ike ‘Sonny’ better," she as- “Haven't you been back be- “To the old place? Not since I was @child. But the Wandering Wyckofts always do come back, to marry and to die.” I hope it isn't the latter in your case," she returned lightly. “That's for you to say,” @wered with composure. he an- “If the tra- dition holds true it must be the onecoming around in broad daylight to or the other." “Oh, do Jet's be serious for a min- ute! J thought we were here to talk business.” “So we are, I'd quite forgotten.” Hid began to laugh. She handed him a roll of bills and in re- turn he gave her a promissory note, duly made out. “The space for your name js blank for you to fill In, as 1 don't know It,” he said. “Don't you want to know it?” “It couldn't make the slightest dift- ference.” “How are you to pay me?” He looked at her with lifted brows, “Why, we're going to keep on seeing each other, aren't we?" “Are we? You take so much for granted." she said fretfully. . Then, in a different tone: “Now that I know who you are, what's to prevent my looking up the Wyckoff place and solve your mystery?" “Honor,” he said. “You cun trust, can't you?" sald she softly now," she warned, you want me to stay any anded, piqued “More than anything in the world. But I'm due at Pa: i “Good night, then." She leaned for- ward to release the brake, His hand closed over hers. “Dorothy,"” he said, and bent fort ward to look Into her eyes. No, no, no, no!" she denied ve- hemently. "Dorothy?" There was appeal as well as question in his lowered voice. “Yes,"" she whispered, and leaned to touch his Ifps swiftly with her own “That's for your five-year-long faith,” she murmured. Had not Tom Martindale been so exigent, things might never have d out as t did. “Either a fellow ts engaged or a fel- low isn't engaged,"’ he ‘iad pointed out. “It's a month since I put {t up to you, Dorrit, and you haven't sald when yet.”* “I suppose you're right, Tom," she replied. “Of course I'm right,” sald he, “1 think I'll go home now," said the girl. ‘'No, please. I don't want you to take me. I'm going by myself, if you don't mind.”" Dorothy's Sterling-Wright, as soon as she had turned it into the main road, took, as it were, the bit between ity teeth, und insisted on its own way. With a high thrill of her pulses Dor- othy recognized the screen of willows saw the old stone posts Joom in t moonlight, and bringing the car to a standstill, leaned forward to drink in once more the dear and unforgotten vista of Pasqueet, Maine, Pasqueet had vanished. R. THOMAS N. MARTIN- M DALE prided himseit on he- ing a man of action and with reason. He mentioned an engagement between himself and Miss Dorothy Forrest. The Search- INSTALMENT NO. THE FINISH. HERE followed days of sullen } battle for Tallente, a battle with luck against him, with his back to the wall, with de- pair more than once yawning at his feet, The house in Charles Street was closed, There had come no word to ‘nim from Jane, no news even of her departure except the somewhat sur- prised reply of Parkins, when he had called on the following afternoon. * “Her ladyship left fdr Devonshire, sir, by the ten-fifty train."" Tallente werft back to the fight with those words ringing in his ears, He had deliberately torn to pieces his Mouse of refuge. Success or failure, ‘what did it matter now? Yet with the @ogged courtge of one loathing failure for failure’s own sake, he flung him- self into the struggle. On the fifth day after Jane's de- arture, the thunderbolt fell. Tall- ente’s article was printed in full and the weaker members of the Demo- cratic Party shouted at once for his resignation. At a question cunningly framed by Dartrey, Tallente rose in the House to defend his position, and acting on the soundest axiom of mill- tary tactics, that the best defense ts attack, he turned upon Miller, and with caustice deliberation exposed the plot framed for his undoing. He threw caution to the winds, and though re- peatedly -nd gravely called to order, he poured out his scorn upon his enemy till the latter, white as a sheet, rose to demand the protection of the Speaker. There were very few in the House that day who ever forgot the almost terrifying spectacle of Miller's collapse under his adversary'’s hurri- eane assault, or the proud und digni- fled manner in which Tallente con- only tho first step. The labor press throughout the country took serious alarm at an aftack which, though eut of date and influenced by conditions mo longer predominant, yet struck a very lusty blow at the very existence of their great nervous centres. Mil- Jer, a8 Chainman of the Assocluted ‘Trades Unions, issued a manifesto notwithstanding his declining juence, exercised considerable ef- fect. It seemed clear that he could rely still upon a good ninety votes in the House of Commons. Horlock be- ame more cheerful. He met Tellente leaving the House one windy March evening and the two men shared a taxi together westward. “Looks to me ike another year of office, thanks to you," the Prime Min- “Lenton tells me that 12 It is Thureday week you're going for us again, isn’t it?” “Many things may happen before , although he is not a great He is out to make a radi- solid change in the govern- this country and he knows that Miller's gang will only weight around his neck. r walt until he has weaned votes—even got rid stick to you." you are right,’ Tallente the Democrats Tea Hh & E it for his army of adherents could have heard that little duel, I think you'd have won straight through!!" “Unfortunately they couldn't,”’ Tal- lente sighed, ‘‘and it's so hard to cap- ture the attention, to reach the inner understanding, of a great mixed com- munity.”’ The great night came and passed with fewer thrills than any one had imagined possible. Horlock himself undertook the defense of his once more bitterly assailed Government and from the first it was obvious what the end must be. He spoke with the resigned cynicism of one who knowe that words are fruitless, that the die is already cast and that his little froth of words, valedictory in their vone from the first, was only a tribute to exacting convention. Tal- lente had never been more restrained, although his merciless logic reduced the issues upon which the vote was to be taken to the plainest and clear- est elemen: He remained studious- Jy emotional and nothing which he followers into the Government lobby to find himself by) forty votes upon the losing side. Horlock found Tallente once more slipping quietly away from the House and bundled him into his car, They rove off rapidly. “Even your new adherent,” Tall- ente said, smiling, ‘could not save Horlock made a grimace. “You can have Miller and his faith- ful fourteen," he declared, e don't want him. The man was a Little Englander, he has become a Little Laborite. Heaven knows where he'll end! Are you going to be Prime Minister, ‘Tallente?"* “I don't know," was the quiet re- ply. ‘‘Just for the moment I am weary of it all. Day after day, fight- ing and scheming, speaking and writ- ing, just to get you fellows out, And now we've got you out, well, [ don't know that we are gothg to do any better. We've got the principles, we've got some of the men, but is the country ready for our programme “If you ask me, I think the coun- try!s ready for anything in the’ w: of a change,’ Horlock replied, “I am sure I am. I have been Prime Minister before, but I've never in my fe had such an army of incompe- tents at the back of me, Take my tip, Tallente. Don't you" have a Chancellor of the Exchequer who re- SHE SUDDENLY ROSE, CAME OVER AND KNELT BY THE SIDE OF HIS CHAIR. Said indicated in any way his per- sona! interest in the sweeping away of the Horlock regime. It was Dar- trey himself who overshadowed every one that night. He spoke so seldom ip the House that many of the mem- bers had forgotten that he was an orator of rare quality. “That night he lifted the debate from the level of or- dinary polit.cs to the idyllic realms where alone the lasting good of the world is fashioned, He pointed out what government might and should be, taking almost a Roman view of the care of the citizen, hie early and late education, his shouldering of the responsibilities which belong to one of a great community, From the in- dividual he passed to the nation, eketohing in a few nervous but oml- Nant phrases the exact possibilities of socialistic legislation. and he wound up with a parodied epigram: Govern- ment, he declared, was philosophy teaching by failures, In th¢ end, Mil- Jer led fourteen of bis once numerous HER ARMS WENT AROUND HIS NECK. fuses to take a bit off the income tax every year. “We shall abolish the income tax before long,"’ Tallente declared, “Well, good luck to you!"’ Horlock said heartily. HAPPINESS, HE butler who udmitter Tallente | conducted him at once to Jane's sunctum, Without any warn- ing he was ushered in “Mr. Tullente, your ludyship."* He hud u itrange impression of her as she rose from 4 very seu of news- papers, She was thinner—he was sure of that—dressed in indoor clothes although it was the middle of the morning, 4 suggestion of the invalid about her easy-chair und her tired eyes., It neemed to him that for a mo- ment they were lit with a gieam of fear which passed almost instuntane- ously. She hud recovered herself even before the door was closed behind the departing servant. “Mr Tallente!"' she repeated. ‘You! But how is tuis possible?’ y the side of his chair. “Everything swered, Jane.”* She was glad but amazed. Even when he had obeyed her involuntary gesture und seated himself by her side, there was something incredulous about her expression, “But what does it mean that you are here just now?” she peraisted. “According to the newspapers you should be at Buckingham Palace to- day.” 5 “"Yo-morrow," he corrected her. “I hired a very powerful car and mo- tored down yesterday afternoon. I am starting back when the moon rises to-night. For these few hours I am better out of London.”* “But why"'—— she faltered. He was slowly finding himself. is possible,’ he an- “I have come to see you, “I came for you, Jane,” he sald, “on any terms—anyhow. I came to beg for your sympathy, for some measure of your affection, to beg you to come back to Charles Street. Is it too late for me to abase myself?" Her eyes glowed across at him. She suddenly rose, came over and knelt by Her arms went around his neck “Andrew,"’ she whispered, “I have been humed. I was wrong. That night—the thought of my pettiness— my foolish, selfish fears,—Oh, I was wrong! I have prayed that the time might come when I could tell you. And if you hadn't come, I never could have told you. I couldn't have written, 1 couldn't have come to London, But I wanted you to know.” She drew his head down and kissed him upon the lips. Tallente knew then why he had come, The whole or- chestra of life was playing again. He was strong enough to overcome moun- tains. \ “Androw," she faltered, ‘you real- L doar aati He stopped her, “Jane,” he said, “I have some stu- pid news, It seems to me incredibly stupid. Let me pass it on to you quickly, You knew, didn't you, that 1 was married in America? Well, my wife has divorced me there. We mar- ried in a State where such things are possible.’ “Divorced you?" she exclaimed. “Quite legally," he went on. “I saw a lawyer before I started yesterday morning. But listen to the rest of it. Stella is married—married to the man 1 thought I had thrown over the cliff. She is married to Anthony Palliser.”* “Then you are free?"’ Jane mur- mured, drawing a little away. “Not in the least,” he replied. am engaged to marry you."" At luncheon, with Parkins in attend- ance, it became possible for them to converse coherently. “When I found you at home in the "he sald, “I she admit- “I rode some distance yesterday and it fatigued sme. Somehow or other, I think I have had the feeling, the last few weeks, that my work here is over, All my farms are sold, I have really now no meuns of occupying my time." “It .s fortunate," he told her, with a smile, “that 1 am able to point out to you # new sphere of usefulness." She made a little grimace at him behind Parkins’ august back. Parkins left the room. She held sat her hand, “How /horrld of you!" she naur- mured. “You are gibing at me De- cause I lent my farmers a little money," He laughed softly, “You, dear!" he exclaimed, “On my honor, it never entered into my head. Only I want to bring you grad- ually into the new way of thinking because | want so much from you— so much help and sympathy.” “And?” she pleaded, He looked around to be sure that Parkins was gone and, leaning from his place, kissed her, “If you care ‘or moonlight motor- ing," he whispered, “I think 1 can give you quite a clear outline of all that L expect from you,"" She drew a little sigh of relief. “If you had left me behind,” she murmured, “1 should have sat here that it was all a dream. THE END. just a litte weary of, THE EVENING WORLD, SATURDAY, APRiL 29, light announced the betrethal, in an early May Issue. After a brief but spirited colloquy with him, Miss Forrest went. with her uncle and aunt to Alaska, leaving him the undisputed possessor of a large, valuable and premature emerald ring. Subsequently Dorothy revealed an ambition to see the Orient, which her guardians kindly gratified. Thereafter they took her to Vienna, Rome, Paris, London, and other way stations on the Grand Tour of Forgetfulness. In the course of much time and far wanderings, the Forrest family, flee- ing the rigors of winter, brought up at Falm Beach. There she fell in with a young diplomat attached (though not violently) to the French Embassy at Washington, who immediately became her devoted slave. He suggested mak- ing up a party to sce a new movie re- leased. For the first half hour of the per- formance, Miss Forrest secretly yawned. Then, with a startled ex- clamation, she leaned forward, con- vulsively gripping the front of the seat before her, her eyes fixed with the intensity of hypnotism. Pasqueet, Me., had flashed upon the screen. And down the peaceful village street ambled a cow, looking as smug as a cow should who earns $10 a day, led by a young man in farm garb and wearing the face of the Monarch of Pasqueet. The director asked her, “How do you like it?” adding, “That's the most carefully detailed picture I've ever produced.” “It's quite wonderful,” answered the girl in a polite but muffled voice. “This scene is supposed to be what we call humorous relief,” pointed out the director. “Yes, it’s awfully funny,” said Miss Forrest, and burst into tears. He took her hastily outside, where she. presently professed herself quite recovered from an iifexplicable attack of faintness, and proved it by putting him through a shrewd examination. “Where is Pasqueet, Mr. Blabson?”* “It isn't. It's just a ‘location.’ ” “Please tell me what a ‘location’ is.” “A scene that we build to shoot. It's buflt from the front only “Oh!” said the girl, enlightened as to the reason for the house without a back. “And what becomes of it after you've ‘shot’ it?” “In this case it went to the man who owns the old estate we used for the location. We turned it over to him in lieu of rent. He'll sent it to the wreckers, I ppose, and make quite a good thing.” “1 see, Is that all he got for his rent?” “Well, as I recall, we paid ten a day for his cow and five for himself. Animals sometimes get more then hu- mans {n oar game—that is, than or- dinary ‘mob actor “And was the farm an erdinary ‘mob actor’ “If he had been,” replied the direc- tor ruefully, “my company would have saved money. Refore he was through with us we'd paid him a couple of hundred thousand dollars for rights in & new lighting device of his, and only part rights at that.” “Thank you,” said Miss Worrest. “Will you please take me back? I coukin't bear to miss any more of your delightful picture.’* At supper she jntormed the sad- dened diplomat that she couldn't join a projected air-flight party for the ts. lands the next week, because she was starting for home unexpectedly. ith the cow EN and the things that men make, tragically alter and pass, but spring is a true- heart and returns ever the All was as it had been a year before to Dorothy's eager wistfulness as she took the turn into the quiet side road. The ordered town street stretched in front of her exactly as before, On a chair in the middle of the street sat the Monarch of Pasqueet, Dorothy commanded her voice suf- ficiently to say ‘Suppose a car should come ?"" ‘ “It won't,’ he answered, and strode down to meet her, same. 1922, poatgoe at CAREFULLY BINDING HIS HANDKERCHIEF ACROSS HER EYES, HE LED HER DOWN THE STREET OF PASQUEET, MAINE, lessly as he held out his hand. “Don't touch me; not yet, Sonny. T° to be sure, first, that it's tru “It's true, dear, It’s part of the story.”” “But Pasquect? It was gone when I last came. Or was I dreaming?" “No; it was gone.’* “And now it's here again. it?” ‘That's part of the story, too." “Tell it to me.” “I sold Pasqueet to the wreckers because I needed the money very much. Then I made a lot. So I just put it back as it was. For you.’* She shook her head incredulously. No, people don’t do things like that. Not real people in real life. Are you real, Sonny?” ‘Try me and see."" ITH a little sob of gladness and surrender she slipped into his arms, “You've been long com- ing back to me, Dorothy," he said. “Is that the way to tell a girl you love her?" she whispered. t's the realest way I know." ' She drew back her head to study his face. “You must have been very sure that I was coming back, to have done all this. Were you?" “Mostly. But there were times of doubt. Bad times!’ “Did you hear of my engagement?" she asked very low. “Yes. It nearly killed me,’ he an- swered. ‘——Until I realized that it Isn't “No, please," she besought breath-couldn't be true."* got | “Why couldn't it?” “It wasn't part of the story.’* “No; and it never was true. I'd seen you it couldn't be. But all this,""—she looked about her at the After still street and the homey empty buildings,—‘‘I still don't realize why you did it.’ “Once when I was a boy,"’ he ex- plained, “I built a birdhouse in a tree and a pair of birds came and nested there. A storm tore the house down and the birds went away. But the next spring I put it up in the same place and the birds came back. You see," he said, confidentially, ‘‘those birds were lovers. And lovers always come back."* “You're a boy yet,"’ she accused. “An absurd, romantic, silly boy."’ But her eyes were bright and wet and caressing as she spoke. ‘‘Still,"’ she added, "I don't suppose you've been absurd and romantic enough to come here every morning for a year and sit in that chair in the middle of the street."” “Oh, no! But to-day is the anni- versary of your first coming.’* “You remembered that too!"’ she marvelled. Then, when she had recev- ered the use of her lips for purposes of speech, she said with an effort at practically: ‘‘Just the same, it’s a reckless waste of money. Look at that church, now''—— “That church is there for a purpose," he broke in. “I leave it your imagination to guess what." “But we can't be married in a church without a pulpit, Sonny,” said, softly. I'll build a pulpi “And we'll have the wedding break- fast in a bakery without any Baker, I suppose,” she railed, noddimg to- ward the High Class establishment W. Niblack. “You can bake the bread." » “And we'll live happy ever after in a house without any back?!” We'll put in a back.’* “I'm sure it's all a story,” she sighed. ‘Too dear to be true, Do you think you could ever make me believe it?" a4 “All [ ask is the chance. “How does it end, then?!” + “There isn't any end to this story,” said the Monarch of Pasqueet. 2 Copyright. All rights reserved. - (Printed by arrangement with ” Metropolitan Newspaper Service, — New York.) i Begins Monday 1 ALLELE ALLL ALLL LLU LULL ILL LLL LLL ALLL ALLL THE SHEIK By EDITH M. HULL THE STORY EVERY ONE TALKS ABOUT THE BEST “BEST SELLER” OF YEARS n The Evening World