Demonic Yalan EE ——— ————————————— Bellefonte, Pa., March 12, 1926. A BACHELOR IN BIARRITZ. (Continued from page 2, Col. 4.) the longest-winded saxophone. Also she twice went out to roam in the arcade with Minot. This appeased her mother. “You seemed to be having an es- pecially good time tonight, dear,” she said when they were in their suite. “Did 1?” Dorothy smiled. “Well, I guess that proves I ought to have been an actress.” “Why, how so?” “Oh, I don’t know!” said Dorothy. “I'm so sick of all this sham! Noth- ing’s genuine—nothing! I wish we were back in Malachi—or even Chi- cago.” She kicked off her slippers. “Why do we have to stay here, any- way?” Her mother raised her eyebrows. “Why, I thought we’d made some very delightful acquaintances here! Mr. Minot, and——" “Qh, there are people evreywhere! Besides”—she wormed out of a four- hundred-dollar frock—*“besides, I just refused Ted about an hour ago.” Mrs. Osborne gasped. “You—you what?” Dorothy made a grimace. “All I want is to get out of this hot- house atmosphere. It bores me. Let’s go somewhere else.” “I think,” said Mrs. Osborne, with a sigh for the lost Minot, “that you’d better go to bed. “We'll talk it over in the morning.” Dorothy went to her room, and cried until dawn. But by noon she had gained her point. She had persuaded her mother to migrate at the end of the week. Of Colcord, Miss Osborne had seen nothing for two days, but considering the whir of life at Biarritz and the variety of plaisance, this wasn’t ex- traordinary. That is, it wouldn’t have been extraordinary under previous conditions. But since he must cer- tainly have heard some rumor of her plans, she did think it rather odd that he hadn’t come to her to express his sorrow. Odd, not to say unaccount- able, in view of his protestations of friendship—especially on the Virgin Rock. Yet, after all, what did it signify? Personally, she didn’t care whether she ever saw him again. On the last afternoon she went to walk with her mother; and as they «crossed the Avenue Victor Hugo a familiar figure emerged from a door- way in front of them. It was Dr. Me- Garrah. “Ah!” said Mrs. Osborne. where you live, Doctor ? making a call ?” “I was making a call on a friend of vours,” said McGarrah. “Pelham Col- cord.” “Mr. Colcord. Is he ill?” Dorothy had lost color. “You don’t mean—he’s broken down again?” The Doctor: stared at her. “Hm! Again? You seem to be—well, it isn’t far from it. And then this morn- ing he took a tumble downstairs—I’d ordered him not to go out, but he wanted to get over to Palais, I sup- pose to say good-bye to you—anyway, it’s a beautiful compound fracture, just below the knee.” “But who's taking care of him, then?” “I’ve bribed the concierge’s wife to look in on him once in a while until I can find somebody.” . Miss Osborne was breathing rapid- ly. “Doctor,” she said, “if—if I could do anything—" “Thank you, Miss Osborne,” said MecGarrah dryly, “but I've got one amateur already. And then—" “I’m going to see him,” she said. “Where is he? What floor?” “Why,” said McGarrah, “he’s on the top floor. But I'm very much afraid you can’t see him just yet.” “Why not?” “Well,” he said, “for one thing, be- cause I won’t take you up there.” “Then I'll go by myself.” She had flashed out of sight in the doorway. The Doctor darted after her, but midway in the first flight he was blocked by a baby grand piano which Dorothy had passed on the upper landing. It caused a delay of five minutes, and after that he thought that he might as well take his time and assist Mrs. Osborne. And Mrs. Osborne was no chamois. On the threshold of the Elephant’s Nest he released her arm. “You'd ‘better let me handle this situation,” he said brusquely. But as he went on to the door of Colcord’s bedrooni, she followed, puffing, and apprehen- sive. By nature, neither of them was an eavesdropper, but for once they were both guilty. Dorothy was on her knees, with her arm supporting Col cord’s head. “Oh, my dear, my dear!” she was saying, “it was for mother! I'd promised her! And how could I have known?” “But there never was any other girl,’ said Colcord feebly. “It was you I meant all the time. I'd tried every other way to make you tell me, -ever since I spotted you that first night—when I was so flabbergasted "by the way your mother talked that 1 couldn’t talk.” = “Oh, my dear, I'd promised! How 2ould I have known you knew al- ready? And how could I have guess ed you meant me?” “Then I sort of cracked, do you see? I'd given you a thousand chances to tell me, and I couldn’t go any further. I thought you cared more for the glitter than you did for me. It was so one-sided. I'd told you everything about myself, and you— then I heard you were going away, sO I tried to get over to the Palais and—" “Oh, hush, dear, hush! It’s all right now! On the Rock—oh, if Id only understood!” She kissed him. Doctor McGarrah took Mrs. Os- borne very firmly by the elbow and led her back to the little salon. Mrs. Osborne was very erect and regal, although her lips were trem- bling. “Is this Or were you “He's—he’s had a breakdown be- fore?” “Three months ago. And desper- ately sensitive about it, too. Thinks that for a man of his physique it’s a disgrace. That’s why he preferred to pose as a loafer.” : Then Dorothy came in. “Mother,” she said, “Pelham and I are engaged. And I'm going to stay and take care of him.” McGarrah cleared his throat. “Haven't I already explained, Miss Osborne, that this isn’t an amateur job?” There was a long hiatus, during which Dorothy’s look to her mother was partly expectant, partly contrite, and wholly tender. Then, she turned to McGarrah. “Yes, Doctor, but I happen to be a graduate nurse of the Lake Hospital of Chicago. I was there five years.” She turned back to Mrs. Osborne. “And, mother—Pel- ham’s vice president of the Cimarron Oil Company.” Mrs. Osborne quivered and then rose majestically. Her cheeks were very pink, and two big tears were hunting a pathway down her nose. “Qh, well,” she said, “if he’s going to be my son-in-law—" Dorothy swallowed hard. “You see,” she said to McGarrah, with some difficulty, “mother was never keen on my going into nursing anyway. She didn’t think it was—" “Qh, don’t!” said Mrs. Osborne shakily. “It’s all over; I'm tired of pretending. I suppose I could keep it up—and I did love it, being some- body over here—and I did hope you'd marry into a grand family—but, Doc- tor, I was at the Lake Hospital for 20 years! We'll take your case together. There, Dorothy! There goes society! And—and it was just getting so it wasn’t hardly any strain!” Mrs. Osborne sought her handker- chief. “It was my fault. I made Dorothy promise not to tell. I made her promise. I wanted her to have a chance. But we were at the Lake un- til they struck oil on some land my husband—he died when Dorothy was a baby—bought for nothing in Oklaho- ma when he was a young man in 2 drug store. And the Cimarron Com- pany leased it from us, and we made a million. And went down near Cleve- land to get away from geossip—new- about it, but I've had such a good time over here, and when people know— rich and all. Oh, I have felt sneaky. But I can’t go on pretending any more; I can’t! I'm glad it’s over.” The Doctor was wondering if it would console her to know what the popular gossip had been. The gossip had been before the oil strike the Os- bornes had worked in a department store. He decided not. He cleared his throat. “My dear Mrs. Osborne, you haven’t enough trust in us. I can positively assure you that your friends in Biarritz—in- cluding myself—will appreciate you infinitely more than ever.” “You—you really think so?” “I know so. And can one of you stay here now while I run back to my office for half an hour? Then I'll be in again, and Ill send up everything you’ll want. And Miss Dorothy—my best wishes, forever! Mrs. Osborne, I congratulate you.” He hurried away, rejoicing that his friend Colcord, in coming out of ether that morning after his leg was set, had been so flowingly conversational. — Colcord had gabbled the whole story from beginning to end, his recogni- tion of the Osbornes from their names and their address, his prior informa- tion about them, his amazement at their pretensions, his love for Doro- thy, his fear that she cared more for her camouflage than for himself, his conviction that he could never marry a girl so ashamed of her past when he was so unashamed of his own. And always the sardonic fact that it was through Colcord’s own company that the Osbornes had achieved fortune. And then it had been most for- tuitious that MeGarrah had met the Osbornes at the very door, and that Mrs. Osborne herself had given him such a marvelous inspiration. To be sure, he had intended to do what he could about the affair, but he had nev- er visualized any outcome so pat and so brilliant; and he had never known that he was such an artistic liar. From his office he telephoned the Bayonne hospital: “Oh, about those two nurses you said I could have to- morrow morning—well, I don’t need ’em now No, I won’t need ’em at all.”—By Hol- so 05 0 00 . worthy Hall—In the Philadelphia Re- cord. —Read the “Watchman” and get the cream of the news. Better Than Pills For Liver Ills. You can’t feel so good but what NR will make you feel better. NIU S SSD APPA ELECTRICITY ....for Better Home-Making 90 per cent. or more of the housewives in our commun- ity do their own house-work--- This means that nearly all of our mothers—our home-makers —are ever seeking more ways to reduce the drudgery of home “making. 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