: . . . Ly. ae Led “I haven’t had any one -any of my life worth living. She came into my life own people, here. There hasn’t been and taught me love and what life Bellefonte, Pa., June 3, 1927, —_— THE UNDERSTUDY. (Continued from page 2, Col. 3.) self to dance violently for half an Rour. Always her eyes kept watch of the tall man who stood about, with his arm in a sling, looking on. At first she feared he would leave since he was out of the fun on account of his injury, but, as time passed and he seemed content to remain, she gave herself up to playing the game, until she deemed it diplomatic to make the move she was living for. When the time came, she freed her- self on some trivial pretext and hap- pened to run across David Lane. He was standing alone, looking tired to death. “You’re not dancing, of course, are you, Mr. Lane?” she said. “Why don’t we go and sit out somewhere? Pve had enough of it, myself.” He roused himself and smiled down at her. “Really ? ed, politely. you. Where shall we go?” “Let’s try the library,” she an- swered, and led the way to a room that seemed remote and was pleasant- ly gathered into one circle of light from a tall lamp and the fire. ‘This is the best room in the house, day or night,” Virginia said, over her shoulder. She wandered to the fire and then turned back to him. “I'm going to sit down and have a peace- ful smoke. Is there any place where you can be comfortable with your Broken bones?” He laughed a little. “Any place that’s soft would be good enough for me tonight. I wish T were in a hay-loft!” She laughed appreciatively. “Don’t mind me the least bit. I don’t care what you do. Cuddle up somewhere, Mr. Lane, and I'll be good company and .not say a word.” “That listens great!” Lane said. “But I don’t expect ever to lie down again. I expect to have to sit up for the rest of my life. Did you ever have a polo-field hit you in the neck, Miss Starr? Then you know how I feel!” 4 His spirit appealed to her. : “You are a game one!” she nodd- ed, smiling. “Marion told me you were.” “I'm not,” he retorted, with a sud- den change of tone. He turned, abruptly, to a. big leath- Are you sure?” he ask- er chair and sank into it. But in that | moment he had regained his flippan- ey. ; “Solid comfort!” he cried, grimac- mg his dissatisfaction to the girl, who apparently watched him with only sympathetic amusement. “If you weren’t here, I'd think I was in hell taking my punishment!” He closed his eyes and lines of pain were on his forehead. “Don’t any one jos- tle me,” he added, with a kind of dy- ing humor, “or I shall begin to cry? Virignia rose swiftly and stood ov- er him, her hands clenched nervously. “Oh, why did you come ?” she cried, with tender exasperation. “You ought to be in bed! - Why did you come?” David Lane opened his eyes, and stared up at her. The whole expres- sion of him went rigid. ; “That,” he said, “I shan’t tell you.” _ Their eyes clung together. Virgin- ia looked down into depths. a “You don’t need to—tell me,” she said, and moved away to the fire, She felt him close behind her and waited, consciously, to gauge the tone of his voice. It reached her so hoarse as x i Wists quality. ‘What do you mean? Wha y ud t do you She turned and he was there before Her. She lifted one hand to his well Seulter pnd, a3 if in sudden weak- ness, bent her head against he - stretched arm. : ror “I saw the game this afternoon-— and I've been thinking about you ever since, David Lane,” she cried, and for a few seconds they stood in stillness. Virginia, swept with compassion for him, thought nothing of herself. Nor was Lane thinking of her. The Rand on his sholder, the slight weight she leaned upon him, meant nothing. He removed her gently but quite mechanically, and he stepped back to the chair he had left and sat down on the edge of it. “Don’t judge me,” he said, numbly. “I never have been a quitter—but now—I don’t know what I am.” “I know,” Virginia told him, from where she stood. “You've been under a long strain—and you've been too much alone.” mw The words appeared to reach his brain slowly. His eyes returned to hers with” a vague look of defense. “I could bear it better that way at first,” he said, and repeated. “But mow—it’s got to me—I have to keep among veople—acting, all the time.” “Yes,” said the girl, “beacuse —” He watched her come toward him, and then he felt her arm slip round his shoulders. From above him he heard her finish the sentence she had begun. “Because—now—you’re afraid to be alone.” 3 She held him lightly against her, as simply as if it were her right. She went on speaking as naturally as if she had known him always. “You mustn’t mind my knowing, David,” she said. He sat stiffly within the circle of her arm: Her heart stabbed her sud- denly with consciousness of his atti- tude and of what she had done. But as she moved to withdraw, he caught at her hand and held it there. Pres- ently she spoke again. “I think—it seems, as if there al- ways should be one person to whom we might take our sorrows—we natur- ally don’t take them to the crowd, be- cause we're sports—but being a spoit lays the way open to a horrible lone- liness, sometimes. A crowd can be the loneliest place in the world. And yet—one so seldom finds the individ- ual.” Neither was aware of the pause $hat followed. Virginia just stood and waited. Finally: : “T guess you're right,” he assented, “It’s awfully good of | any individual—” A tenseness gath- ered in his voice. “It has been hor- rible—I’m sick with it. It’s become never released, he gripped tighter. my nerve will go back on me—Thank God, you've come, Virginia Starr.” She closed her other hand on his. “Don’t go back to the club to-night. Stay here. They can surely put you up,” she said, earnestly. He stared at her blankly for a sec- ond, and then his face relaxed. : “What would you think of me— if I stayed?” he said, oddly; and then on rather a grim note, “no—I’ll take the dare.” He saw Virginia’s eyes and parted lips ineffably tender and understand- ing. With a little jerk he withdrew his hand and started away from her, only to stop again and speak with- out looking back. “I’m more afraid to stay, now, than to go—You know—a light—where there’s been no light—sympathy like this——" “You’ll get used to it, David,” her voice came to him, softly. She didn’t move; she waited; but he left her. : ; She found that, all things consid- ered, she was pretty well unnerved herself. There was no sleep upon her pillow that night. Watching the clouds break and the dawn grow fresh and fair, she felt a strange nearness and communion with that other girl who had loved David Lane. “You don’t misunderstand, do you?” she seemed to be urging. “I'm only trying to help, and in no way to take your place. There is no place in his heart for any one but you. You've seen him; you know; he is in sad need of help.” The first rays of the sun shot forth at that, crowning a new day. The glory of it thrilled the girl fantastic- ally. ou do want me to help, don’t you! Perhaps you even chose, your- self, that I should be the one to help. I love your trust. I shall do my ut- termost.” And then a brisk northwest wind came, adding to the inspiration of the day and of the mood. After bath and breakfast Virginia. forgot that she had only slept an hour or two. She greeted Marion Hendrick’s suggestion of golf with enthusiasm, though upen arriving at the club, a lazier form of diversion seemed suddenly to appeal. “I’d rather drive about in the little car, really,” .she said ingenuously. “Perhaps I can find Mr. Lane, and make him go with me.” And since there were plenty of golfers in sight, Marion agreed care- lessly. : s So Virginia escaped and ran round the corner of the piazza by the smok- ing-room, where, from a window, she was confronted by David Lane, him- self, gazing idly forth, with a cigar- ette in his hand. He smiled a surpris- ed welcome ‘and met her at the door. “Well!” she exclaimed from the threshold. = “Good morning, and how are you?” “Oh, I'm—"’ he began bravely, and then honestly, though with his die- hard humor, “I'm feeling very far from fit.” * “She laughed as she looked him over. “If I were to paint your attractive smile today,” she said, “I should paint it a pale pea-green.” “You’ve a fine eye for color,” he ap- plauded. “Come in.” = : “No, come out,” she cried, “I’ve got the car and Marion’s playing golf.” David gave her a wan glance. “Don’t you like it pretty well here, by the fire?” he ventured. “And the | chairs are—fairly soft—and you don’t “have to bother to blow your horn or anything.” He never failed to amuse her. “But I can’t stay in here,” she pro- tested. “Come back to the Hendrick’s where we won’t be disturbed.” : “No,” he countered, with whimsical resignation. “Fate hasnt prescribed for me a rest-cure. I'm to go jounc- ing over all the roughest roads on Long Island. Come along—the writ- ing’s on the wall!” ; Virginia turned reluctant, but h had his way, and they drove off rath- er silently into the gorgeous weath- er. Watching him and noting the same lifelessness that had marked his expression in the early part of the previous evening Virginia felt a trou- bled inadequacy. Naturally enough he hadn’t told her that, after the un- foreseen solace of her sympathy, he had returned to his lonely quarters and in reaction had known the deep- knowledge that she would be there in the morning had seemed to him to be all that kept him fighting through the night. There was a gameness that hurt in his characteristic streak of humor. As they drove on, he taunted Virginia. “You’re cheating,” ‘he said. “You're picking the good roads—very slyly, of course, but I'm on to you!” a sylvan dell, sheltered from the wind, and with a southern exposure, he ad- mitted that she had planned well. Then abruptly, he slipped down in his seat, took off his hat, and, as if he had reached the limit of his strength, collapsed with his head on her should- er. In fact, his actual words were: “Believe me, Virignia, I wouldn’t do this if I could help it, but I can’t!” “That’s all right, David,” she re- turned, smiling. “I owe it to vou.” “No,” he said haltingly. “What 1 mean is—is life to be nothing but one ghastly reminiscence after another? —You see—I’ve never spoken of this —I'm feeling my way—I don’t know how much one’s meant to endure—nor how much one can endure—and I haven’t wanted to ask—Perhaps I can talk it out to you—because I don’t know you.” “Tell me everything or nothing,” Virginia said. “Perhaps just to know there’s some one you can tell will be enough.” : “No—1 want youto hearit.” His voice sounded curiously drained of emotion. “It all happened out there, in Honolulu, last summer—I had. just three months—just three months .of But when they stopped the ear in. | est depression of all, nor that the |. He was game, for all he denied it. | ams. gra. —— might be—lifted me up to where 1 i I down on humanity and pitied it—Showed me the perfect peace and so horrible that—"” He rose suddenly : glory of having found the one—the and faced her, and the hand he had one, other—I lost myself—in—her— greatness—,” said David Lane, slow- “You're about that, too—I am afraid Iy and with many pauses. : as hell, that sometime—left alone— | Virginia listened with a growing confusion. She wanted to blink her mind’s eye and clear its vision te see the picture that had been there for a day. For this was no lovely girl on the threshold of life, that he was painting. “Was she—your age, David?” she asked impulsively, and was thankful that the question sounded decently tactful. “Oh, no—she was—older—ever so much older—I don’t know—it didn’t matter— What are ten years or fif- teen—when you think alike, and every- thing you learn just adds to the num- ber of ideas that—meet—and you know that the two of you are—per- fect harmony.” “Yes, dear,” Virginia murmured. almost apologetically. “She stooped so far to me—and 1 needed her so—she would have made something of me, Virginia—— But— but she said I'd given her back her life and joy— I—I did that much for her-——" He paused, leaving the girl’s im- agination again hanging in the air. So she’d already lived a life—this, woman ? “You mean—what, David ?” “Oh—yes— She was a widow, you see—He’d only been dead a year or so, but she had been awfully unhap- py with him. They’d lived in south- ern California always, and she came to Honolulu afterward—alone—to get qnite away, you see— Strange—I loved her first when she thought she was done with men forever— But— I loved her so much » To break another pause, Virginia said: “It was like a beautiful, healing— balm or something.” That line didn’t come out quite as well as the first one, but she said it gently, for his sake. She didn’t like this woman he raved about, somehow! Instinctively she was—repclled rather she looked like, “Tell me what David 2” “She looked like a Spanish woman —with eyes that were a dark gray- blue— She loved to dress in black and she carried big, gay fans. Oh, she looked like—herself, Virginia. She was complete—no blurred lines—but always more to be known—more to be desired——" “David, what a picture! You've done her wonderfully.” Virginia forced her praise to cover still fur- ther doubts. “But she wasn’t foreign, was she? Where did she get this— exotic—personality? And what was her name?” “She wasn’t exotic—she was just unique; with the finest, clearest Amer- ican mind in the world, Her name riage. To me, her name was Mary Hollingsworth.” It was all to the credit of Virginia’s healthy nerves that their leap was in- ternal. For the rest of her life she wondered, as event succeeded event, what would have happened to her future, if instead, a start and a cry had betrayed her at mention of that name—Mary Hollingsworth—her re- engaged mother, who had spoiled the life of Jack Starr by deserting him; | spoiled the life—undoubtedly since she was unhappy—of Richard Hol- lingsworth, by living with him, and was now spoiling the life of young was Mary Lathrop before her mar- |’ .. “Oh, she’s made a fool of you, Dav- id,” cried her heart. “She can’t have been what you thought her. Why, to prove it—she never told you of fath- er and her scandalous divorce! Oh, David, she wasn’t — Her life was just one long, selfish havoc!” = How she managed to sustain their tete-a-tete that morning was never clear in her memory. She seemed to be clutching her mind, to hold it steady, with actual physical hands. But when it was over she knew that she had aroused in him no suspicions and that the crisis was passed. In She) blackness of Shather Sigep- less nig! irginia’s charming fan- tasy mocked at her. Angrily and con- temptuously she now denied all pos- sibility of having been in commun- ion with the spirit of the dead. Her ironic Fate it was who had chosen that she should once more be the un- der-study of Mary Hollingsworth, but much time elapsed before even her sane mind could admit it with the grace of humor. . To-night she prayed to God alone that it be given to her to make good her mother’s final wantonness. With something like a poison, Mary Hollingsworth had infected the lives of the men whom she had victimized. Jack Starr had never again been him- self; David Lane, too, appeared be- witched. Virginia set her whole will against the spell in his sick mind. She made him her mission; she worked with no thought of reward. Perhaps the most satirical feature of the treatment was that it brought him for long periods under the roof of Jack Starr. But Virginia had told her father only that there had been a tragedy, and the unconfidential friend- ship that developed between the two men never once endangered the secret of their unsuspected bond. Two years of unremitting care brought David Lane back to normal, and he realized devoutly to whom it was due. Under an October sky, and the maples that drooped heavy gold- en hranches, he told Virignia, as they walked: their horses, that he was well again, and that he loved her. “It isn’t the love you deserve, dear,” he said. “It’s been through the war, vou know—but it’s all yours—it couldn’t be any one else’s— And at least, dearest, I can take care of you, always.” Virginia laughed with a little catch of emotion. “Ol;, women don’t need to be taken care of, David,” she said. “You do the loving and I'll do the care-taking— ‘which amounts to the same thing,” she ended obscurely. To Jack Starr she said, that night: “Father, I feel pretty special for David Lane.” And Jack, with his hands on her shoulders, answered: “He’s got the very best, Jinny, my Faulty Elimination Should Be Corrected—Good Eli Is Essential to Good Health. you would be well, see to your elimination. Faulty kidney ac- tion permits toxic material to re- main in the blood and ‘upset the whole system.. Then, one is. apt to ‘have a tired, languid feeling ‘and, sometimes, a toxic backache or head- ache, and often some irregularity of secretions, such as scanty or burn- ing passages. More and mere people are acclaiming the value of Doan’s Pills, a stimulant diuretic, in this David Lane by—as Virginia scornful-' ly put it—dying on him! After a space of blank shock, her first definite reaction had been a sick- ! ening sense of revolt, and that had condition. For more than forty years Doan’s have been winning favor the country over. Ask your neighbor! ’ PILLS been followed by a surge of pity, a D O A N “~ 60c D) 3 &J Take 3= other. Bar of yous savage protecting impulse, for the . JOR L 3 SD RAND Sufithene man that was primitive and utterly Stimulant Diuretic to the Kidneys > years known as Best, Safest, Always Reliable charasteristic. Foster-Milburn Co., Mfg. Chem., Buffalo, N. ¥. SOLD BY EVERYWHERE girl— I hope he knows he was play- ing in the devil’s own luck when he lost that other woman—whoever she was.”—By Leigh Morton. Sanitary Survey of Centre County. “Protect your own health and that of your neighbors,” writes J. L. Tressel, county health officer. A sanitary survey will be conducted in the same manner as last year. The purpose of a sanitary survey is to furnish’ advice to the ‘house-holder concerning the proper and sanitary methods of water supply, sewage dis- posal, prevention of nuisances and menaces to the public health. It is hoped that by means of the sanitary survey we can secure the cooperation of the people living in this county and to a large extent, succeed in removing most of the men- aces to health. ’ : ——The Watchman publishes news when it is news. Read it. aiden Meats, Whether they be fresh, smoked or the cold-ready to serve—products, are always the choicest when they are purchased at our Market. nas We buy nothing but prime stock on the hoof, kill and re- frigerate it ourselves and we know it is good because we have had years of experience in handling meat products. Orders by telephone always receive prompt attention. - Telephone 450 P. L. Beezer Estate Market on the Diamond BELLEFONTE, PA. 3-34 : Insurance oe FIRE LIFE ACCIDENT AUTOMOBILE WINDSTORM BURGLARY | PLATE {GLASS LIABILITY OF ALL KINDS SURETY BONDS EXECUTED Hugh M. Quigley “Tempe cour Bellefonte, Penna. 71-33-tt CHICHESTER SPILLS IC are syowing for ladies of middle age. plenty of it, but comfort as well. triple Es and we have them in patent kid, tan kid satin and black kid. Note the construction of the sole in the illustra- tion below. It is designed for shoe comfort and costs only Smart, indeed, are the Arch Shoes We STORE . Bush Arcade Bellefonte, Pa. They have style, Sizes run from As to ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW ELINE. _WOODRING. — Attorney-at E02 i Son Er , Lk co room 18 Ex Si -1y EENNEDY JOHNSTON — Attorney-at J Law, Belléfonte,” Pa. Prompt at- tention given all legal business em- trusted to his care. Offices—No. 5 Bast High street. : : M. KEICHLINE. — Attorney-at-Law and Justice of the Peace. All pre- fessional -- business * will receive prompt attention. Offices on second floor of Temple Court. : 49-5-1y : G. ~~ RUNKLE. —_ Attorney-at-Law. Consultation in English and Ger man. Office in Criders Ezchdggn Bellefonte, Pa. . = PHYSICIANS R. R. L. CAPERS, OSTEOPATH. B11 Holmes Sues S. GLENN, M. D. Physician aad Surgeon, State College, Centre county, Pa. Office at his resi- D Belletonte Crider’s Ex. Ww dence. D. CASEBEER, Optometrist, C tered and licensed by the Stste: Hyes examined, glasses fitted. Sat- isfaction guaranteed. Frames repaired and lenses matched. Casebeer Bldg. High Bt. Bellefonte, Pa. T1-22-t% VA B. ROAN, Optometrist. Licensed by the State Board. State College, every day except Saturday. Belle- fonte, in the Garbrick building opposite the Court House, Wednesday afternoons from 2 to 8 p. m. and Saturdays 9 a. m. te 4.30 p. m, Bell Phone. 68-40 Feeds We Keep a full stock of Feeds on hand at all times. Wagner's 229, Dairy $47.00 Wagner's 32% Dairy $50.00 Made of cotton seed meal, oil meal, gluten and bran. — FOR THE POULTRY. Wagner’s Scratch Grain per bu...... Wagner's Poultry Mash per bu.... §3.00 WAYNE FEEDS We sell all of the Well Known Wayne Brands of stock feed Wayne's 329, Dairy, per ton,........ $54.00 Wayne's 329, Dairy, per tom,......... 50.00 Cotton Seed Meal, 43%, per ton,..... 50.00. Oil Meal, 84%, per tenm.............. 58,00 Giaten, 2807. %.. 00. [0 48.00 Allalts = ........................... 45.00 Bran .............00000 Hail, 38.00 MIidAlingu. ........coineiiiarnernnnss 40.00 Mixed Chop ........~............... 40.00 50% Meal Scrap ................... 4.25 80% Digester Tankage............. 4.26 We are making a wheat food Breakfast Cereal, 4lbs for 30c. Try it. Seld at all the groceries, Use “Our Best” Flour. 6. Y. Wagner & Go. Ing 66-11-1yr. BELLEFONTE, PA. Caldwell & Son Bellefonte, Pa. Plumbing and Heating Vapor....Steam By Hot Water Pipeless Furnaces WPAN INS Full Line of Pipe and Fit- tings and Mill Supplies All Sizes of Terra Cotta Pipe and Fittings ESTIMATES Cheerfully and Promptly Furnished 06-15-tf. Fine Job Printing at the WATCHMAN OFFICE There is no style of work, from the cheapest “Dodger” to the finest BOOK WORK that we can not do in the most sat- isfactory manner, and at Prices consistent with the class of work. Call on or communicate with this office Employers This Interests You The Workman’s Compensation Law went into effect Jan. 1, 1916. It makes insurance compul- sory. We specialize in placing such insurance. We inspect Plants and recommend Accident Prevention Safe Guards which Reduce Insurance rates. It will be to your interest to consult us before placing your Insurance. JOHN F. GRAY & SON. Bellefonte 43-18-1yr. State College
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