: . . . 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