AT
SYNOPSIS
Motoring through Vermont, Philip
Starr, young Boston architect, meets
Blanche Manning, seventeen, with
whom he is immediately enamored. It
being a long distance to Burlington,
Starr's destination, Blanche suggests,
the village of Hamstead not boasting
a hotel, that he become, for the night,
a guest of her cousin, Mary Manning.
Mary receives Philip with true Ver-
mont hospitality, and he makes the
acquaintance of her cousin Paul, ree-
ognized as her flance. Starr finds Mary
is acquainted with Gale Hamlin, noted
Boston architect, in whose office Philip
is employed. He informs her of his de-
sire to win Blanche for his wife. She
tells him of an old family superstition
concerning the “Blanches” of the Man-
ning family. Paul Manning is inclined
to be dissipated, not realizing Mary's
true worth. Mary's reproaches for his
undue “conviviality” are badly received
by Paul, and the girl begins to have
misgivings. as to the wisdom of the
alliance. Gale Hamlin, long a suitor
for Mary's hand, visits Hamstead but
makes no progress in his lovemaking.
CHAPTER VI—Continued
a —
“For Heaven's sake, Philip! Don't
you realize that I want to get away
from Hamstead and stay away? If
we fixed up this place, and put all that
money into it, we'd have to keep com-
ing back to it! That's the last thing
on earth I want to do! I don’t want
an old-fashioned house, full of old-
fashioned furniture, in an old-fash-
joned village! I want to live in a big
city. I don't want a quiet existence;
I want to give parties all the time—
except when I am going out to them—
little afternoon bridge parties and little
evening theater parties—and heaps of
dancing. And I simply adore going to
the movies and shopping around for
lacy nightgowns and getting an ice
cream soda In the middle of the morn-
ing, and having lunch at a tearoom.
That's what I've done the few times
I've been to town to visit. Why Philip,
I thought you were going to help me
to escape from Lady Blanche farm!
1 thought you wanted me to have a
good time and pretty clothes, and
heaps of new friends, »
There was something almost gro
tesque about her, In spite of her love
liness, as she stood before him in her
silvery brocade, clamoring for tawdry
possessions and trifling pastimes. The
sudden dread lest the delicate fabrie
of his romance might be rent before
his eyes, filled Philip with fear. But
this fear was engulfed In the terror-
ized premonition which his research
had aroused.
Somehow he steadied himself and
managed to speak lightly. “I do want
you to have a good time and party
clothes and pleasant friends, darling,”
he said. “And vou shall We won't
say anything more about this scheme
of mjne, since it doesn’t appeal te you,
It was only a fancy, anyway.”
He drew her close to him, drugging
himself, for the moment, with the de-
light of feeling her In his arms But
afterwards he sought out Mary.
Everyone always took stories of
trouble to Mary, sure of help and un-
derstanding and comfort. The fact
that It was ironing day, and that he
found her, in the middle of a sultry
afternoon. tolling away In a hot
hands In some secluded and restful
spot, as comforters are traditionally
supposed to be found, made no differ.
ence. He could not bring himself to
speak of Blanche's outburst, but he
did speak of the ominous sense of fore
boding which had been awakened by
his perusal of Hastings’ history and
which had persisted ever since. Mary
listened to his recital In silence, and
without stopping her work. And when
Philip had finished, she went to the
atove for a hot iron. tested it with her
hand, and began to press out Seth's
overalls before she answered,
“You don't think we've kept this
from you wilfully, do you?" she said,
at length. “You know I asked you,
right off, If there were anything that
would make you want Blanche léss,
and you sald no. And I'm sure that
the reason she didn't tell you the
whole story, that day by the brook,
was simply because, as she said, youn
wonld think she was ‘awfully con-
celted and fresh’ If she Inferred that
she thought she was beautiful and
likely to be loved at first sight by a
handsome stranger, She doesn’t read
much, and she's probably forgotten
part of the legend, anyway, even if she
ever read it. Yon-—you wouldn't be
go cruel as to spoil her lovely happl-
ness by telling her about it now, would
yon?”
“Good Lord, Mary, you don't think
I want to, do you? It would just
about kill me to give her up.”
“Then what do you mean?
“1 thought you might think-—I think
myself perhaps I ought to-—on her ae
count, you know,
“On her account?” sald Mary, stu-
pidiy.
“If there is any truth in a thing
tike that, Isn't It my duty to?”
“Why?
“S8o-—she could do something safer,
of course.” ’
Mary folded the overalls carefully.
“There Isn't anything safer for a girl
to do,” she sald in a low volce, “than
to marry the man she loves, If--if
he loves her. And If her life Is the
one that's short, what does that mat.
ter, If W's full and perfect, and-—com-
plete?
“l guess you're right” sald Phillp
huskily, Then, still hesitating—"You
don't suppose | think you're right just
because I want to, do you?
“Did you ever think anything was
right just for that reason?”
Philip searched his conscience.
“1 don't believe 80,” he sald at last,
smiling at her,
A Romance of the
Commonplace
By FRANCES
PARKINSON KEYES
WNU Service
Copyright by Frances Parkinson Keyes
——
Mary smiled back; and looking at
her, but thinking of Blanche, Philip
felt that this episode was closed.
The second episode had nothing what-
ever to do with the past, but & good
deal to do with the present. Try as
he might—and he certainly did try—
Philip could not succeed in liking Paul.
What was worse, the more he saw of
him, the less he liked him. The dis
like, noticed, but carefully hushed up
by Violet, seemed to be entirely mu-
tual. And Paul was spending so much
of his time, especially since the ar-
rival of the new motor, In the society
of Miss Rosalle King, & summer vis-
itor, a worker In a New York depart-
ment store, that his family was fa-
vored less and less by his presence,
Philip, who had marveled at the way
Mary bore Paul's shortcomings, and
not only bore, but forgave them from
the beginning, marveled still more at
the apparent indifference with which
she bore his frank neglect.
But Mary was, as he was eventual
ly to discover, far. less indifferent
than he had supposed, and knowing a
little of the capacity for suffering that
many silent and self-contained per-
sons possess, the discovery disturbed
Mary Tried to Struggle Away From
Him, Hot With Fury, Sick With
Shame and Disgifit.
him not a little Next to Blanche,
there was no one im the world for
whom he cared as much as he already
did for Mary, and they were naturally
thrown a great deal together. Going
into Seth Manning's house one day
on an errand, he first encountered
Moses.
“Where's Mary?" inquired Philip.
“In her room,” sald Moses.
“In her room!” Philip echoed. It
was so unusual for Mary to be “off
duty” even for a few minutes, that
the fact was alarming.
“Yes. Lyin’ on the
“Is she sick?
“No. Cryin’
with emphasis,
“Do you know why 7” pursued Philip.
“Paul,” sald Moses laconically.
Philip turned thoughtfully away.
He was sleeping in the room adjoining
Paul's on his brief visits at Lady
Blanche farm, and he had some idea
of the hours his future brother-in-law
was keeping. After wvacillating for a
short time between his reluctance to
meddle in other people's affairs and
his distress at the thought of Mary's
unhappiness, he waited up for Paul
that night, and endeavored to have a
talk with him
The attempt was far from success
ful. Philip tried to put the question
fairly and kindly. But Paul was en-
raged.
“You had better mind your own busi-
ness,” he shouted, so loudly that
Phillip feared Violet and Blanche
might both be aroused. “I don't tell
you how to manage things with my
sister, do 1? You've done just as you
d--d pleased about the whole affair,
since the day you first struck the farm.
And I'l! thank you to let mine alone,
too. I guess I know what I'm about!”
“I'm afraid you don't. That's just
it,” sald Philip. *And I'm older than
you, and have been about a bit more,
and
“Oh, you're afraid I don't, are you?
Well, 1 should worry,” Jeered Paul,
who was picking up more or less New
York slang. “We're a good little boy,
aren't we? Never hit it up In all our
lives! Well, run along to bed, that's
the best place for one of your ad-
vanced years'and experience--you must
look out not to keep too late hours, or
get your feet wet, or something like
that—might be fatal!” Then as
Philip hesitated, Paul burst into oaths
before which Philip, hitherto unae-
quainted with certain phrases of rural
vocabulary, stood electrified for a mo-
ment, and then walked into his own
room and closed the door,
And so the second episode, also,
came to an abrupt end, and he strove
to dismiss both from his mind.
The wedding day, which seemed to
the Impatient bridegroom so Inter
minably slow in arriving, came at last
warm, clear and cloudless. The
little white Congregational church,
where all the Mannings had always
bed” .
Hard,” added Moses
worshiped, and where the marriage
ceremony was performed, was dec-
orated as it never had been before in
the hundred and fifty years of its ex-
{stence, The Wallacetown “orchestra”
played at the farm. ‘A wedding sup-
per, more sumptuous than any of
which Hamstead had ever partaken,
was spread on tables under huge awn-
ings extending over the lawns, and
two rooms were filled with presents
which any bride might well have been
proud to display and possess. Blanche,
wearing the countess’ pearls, enveloped
in a mist of white tulle and soft lace,
looked more exquisite and falry-like
than ever, Philip's friends—and they
seemed to be legion-—were there In
full force, nor had Hamstead real-
ized before how many Boston friends
Mary had, too. Gale Hamlin was
there, with his sister and nlece. Mr.
Davis, the senior partner of the firm,
had come, too, with his wife and sons;
and many others. All Hamstead was
there, of course, and most of White
Water and some of Wallacetown ; and
all Hamstead included, that summer,
pretty, painted Rosalle King, with her
cousins, the Westons,
Finally, Blanche and Philip drove
off in thelr own motor, showered with
rice and confettl, cheering and waving
from their ribbon-bedecked car as they
went. The guests remained a little
longer to laugh and cry, and “talk it
over” Then gradually they went
home, motor-horns tooting, aged carry-
alls creaking, boys and girls singing
as they walked arm in arm up
dusty road to the village. Jane crossed
the lawn to her own and sat
looking at her ribbon-tled candy box
the
house
bed. Violet collapsed, in an orgy of
satisfaction and tears, and Mary un-
dressed her and made her a hot drink
with a bromide tablet
And finally, coming out of her cousin's
room at two o'clock In the morning,
after having made her “as comfortable
as could be expected’'—to quote Vio
let's own feeble whisper—she met Paul
face to face in the hall
He lurched towards her unsteadily.
There had been champagne, and a
strong punch served at the wedding,
for Viclet had had some fear that
Philip's Boston friends might think
her “countrified.” And all the eve
ning, Paul had been alternately con-
suming first punch and then cham-
pagne and then punch again. The re
sults of his overindulgence were ail
too obvious In both his appearance
and his manner. Mary looked at him
and her very soul revolted.
“How dare you!" she cried, “dis
grace your sister's wedding day like
this!"
Paul seemed hardly to hear her,
But there was no doubt that he saw
her and that he found her very good
to look at. Philip had once said that
Mary was lovely always, but that If
she ever got angry, she would be mag-
nificent. Mary was very angry now,
so angry that she hardly knew that
she was wounded to the heart as well
She was, Indeed, magnificent, beautl-
ful as Paul bad never seen her, had
never known she could be. He threw
his arms around her, and began to
kiss ber violently on her neck, her
cheeks, her lips. Mary tried to strug-
gle away from him, hot with fury, sick
with shame and disgust. He only held
her closer. At last she succeeded In
freeing one arm, and with all her
might, struck him across the mouth,
Instead of sobering Paul, it stimu
lated his raging senses to the point
of frenzy.
unleashed fury.
“You canting hypocrite!”
ed, furiously, “moping around all sum-
mer, acting as if you were crazy to
have me make love to you! And now
going for me like a wildcat when 1
try it! I guess | knew what I was
doing when I let you alone! I guess
1 can get all the kisses | want without
paying for them by being hit in the
face! From now on, you can mope
forever for all 1 care—but you won't
have a chance to hit me again! I
never asked you to marry me, anyhow
~you've only pretended I did! 1
never wanted you at all! Why should
I want a prude—or a shrew—or a
jatlor—for a wife? You wanted me—
though you've tried to act so high and
holy about it!
most got me! But I'm through with
free! And you'll never get me again
after this!”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Primitive Man's First
Idea of Architecture
Historians of architecture tell us
that man's first building efforts were
for the purpose of protecting himself
from the weather, He required shel.
ter from the angry elements, and
hence “the inclemency of the seasons
was the mother of architecuture.” In
his primitiveness he took the nests of
birds and the lairs of beasts as his
model, and the earliest hut was prob-
ably a mere arbor of twigs, after
wards covered with mud, Then huts
were bullt of branches of trees and
covered with turf. And there is every
reason to suppose that the men who
built shelters of this kind were agri
culturists by occupation, The hunter,
on the other hand, preferred a cave
dwelling, which protected him better
from the attacks of his fellows or wild
animals, while the shepherds who led
a. nomadic or wandering life, as some
of them do today In Central Asia, nat.
urally devised tents,
Yeast for Bread
Bread was first made with yeast in
the Seventeenth century,
PF IT is to guess the thought upper-
most in the minds of the majority
of the fair sex just about now, we
would saya new spring outfit. Which
encourages us to talk about the fasci-
nating materials that are extending
invitation to all who behold them.
Of course the very first thing to con-
sider In planning a smart suit, dress,
coat or blouse is the material which Is
to fashion it. Since first things must
come first, we will begin by telling
about the perfectly stunning rough
crepes which are playing so impor-
tant a role in the style panorama.
We can think of no more wearable
a type during the daytime hours and
none of more convincing chic than the
suit, either jacketed or caped, which
is made of rough navy crepe. These
dark blue crepes will be the rage from
now on.
Makigg them up with an sccompani-
ment of gay plaid tafMeta Is one way of
doing as fashion bids. Another Is to
enhance these rough navy crepes with
accents ¢! white, preferably white or.
gandle details such as huge bows, or
ruched collar and cuff sets or neck.
lines which are outlined with garlands
of sheer organdie flowers. We will
be seeing “oodles and oodles” of white
organdie fixings during the coming
days.
Not even the wiles of crisp and im
maculate organdie trimmings can take
away from the prestige of piald taffeta
such as Is lending so sprightly a dash
the
the adorable cape
here pictured, which is fashioned of a
rough navy crepe such as we
been talking about. The plaid taffeta
blouse has a most Interesting scarf
neckline in that It looks as if it might
be attached to the removable cape.
The hat Is a navy straw,
crepe frock centered in the group, it is
I ¥
of the season—either gray with white or
yellow, If you please. The print used
for this particular model is gray with
stripe in a daffodil yellow,
is lined with yellow taffeta.
most Impossible to keep taffeta out of
the picture nowadays.
drawn
the
taflletn
climaxes
yellow
which
which
A new novelly
ric of bemberg in soft green fashions
the attractive daytime
seated figure. One has to see this ma-
style message
iy handsome it is
added to
blistered
ning throughout its weave
which is its crinkled and
surfacing which at
among the smart
which are the call of the hour,
gandie bordering about the
cent to a perfect springtime gown.
desired broad-gshouldered silhouette.
@&. 1913, Westerns Newapaper Union
PLACKET EFFECTS
BROUGHT INTO USE
Juttons are very much in evidence,
but have subsided to a more conven
tional style, leaving the quality of nov-
elty to the new fabrics, Plain glass
buttons, in ball or flat shapes, and
mother of pearl, generally flat, are
taking the place of the metals of the
winter, although there are still some
shiny nickel types—smooth
decorated,
Talking of buttons is another way
of saying that placket effects are re
peatedly brought into use—a feature
that can be sald of skirts as well as
of blouses. In the matter of skirts
plackets are apt to appear anywhere
front, back and In mock style, at the
bottom near the hem.
With Frock for Spring
For wear with very sheer stockings
Perugia shoe-—sandal
than a string of rhinestones and a fiat
The
brilliants surround the sole from back
to front, dividing In front between the
great and pear-great toes, passing Just
above thé ankle bones and fastening
We don’t
the foot in this costume, but we sre
willing to vouch for the effectiveness
of such finery.
Pink Velvet Wedding Gown
Chosen by Stylish Bride
Pale pink velvet was chosen by one
recent fashionable bride in Paris for
her wedding gown instead of the regu:
jation white satin, With it she wore a
veil of pale pink tulle which swept
the length of her train. Her brides
malds wore crepe gowns of the same
tone accented by brown velvet toques,
gloves and slippers.
Brocaded Scarfs Chie
Broeaded scarfs ~ut in triangles and
worn on the outside of black velvet
evening coats are considered the
height of chicness from the Paris
point of view,
SMART FOR SPRING
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
Mannish woolens are the swagger
note for the spring suit. The ma-
terial for the model pictured is re
versible—checked on one side and a
solid color on the other. Which makes
this double-faced wool cape sult ex-
ceedingly practical as it offers many
costume changes, simply by Wearing
first one side out then the other. One
way of doing it Is to wear it as here
shown. Another is to turn the jacket
and skirt checks out, topping this
with the eape showing the monotone
side, or let all three pieces show up
the checks, or wear skirt and cape
with checked side out, the jacket con-
trasting the plain color, There are
any other number of combinations
possible. For milder days the jacket
might be discarded, for the cape will
pose very effectively over a dainty
blouse. The suit itself without the
cape makes a modish appearance. The
vagabond hat is considered extremely
voguish,
SEEING AHEAIL
Farmer Hardpate's place lay right in
the line of the approaching raliway
survey, and the company was anxious
to conciliate the old man. The diplo-
matic agent went out to see him, and
finally thought to cinch the matter,
saying: “Our company offers you
$500 in cash and $1,000 worth of stock
for the right of way through your
farm.”
“No, sir-ree!” retorted old Hard-
pate. “i don't want no rallroad run-
ning around here, Fust thing ye know
ye'll be killing some of my live stock
an’ I'd have to help pay fur it as =
stockholder.”
Mr. Jitiman—What are you twist
ing that mule's tall for?
Mr. Talltimber—He ain't got no self-
starter so 1 gotta crank him up.
Shod at Sunrise
“Private Rooney,” said the cavalry
For three hours the lieutenant wait-
sent for Rooney.
“Private Rooney,” he sald, “where
“Omigosh {” gasped the private,
Did you say
The Wrong Things
Doctor— Well. did you take my ad-
and sleep with the windows
Patient—Yes, doctor,
Doctor—Gor® And you've lost that
you had?
Patient—No, doctor, Only my best
sult and my watch and chain. —Globe
Toronto).
Too Noisy
Mrs. Oldacre—Have you a pergola
in your garden.
Mrs. Newrich—Not now. We found
the tradespeople, so we
Why Higher Wages
Boss—You ask high wages for a
Applicant—But it is so much harder
Wisecracker
John—Is a chicken three weeks old
big enough to eat?
Jim-—\Why, of course not!
John—Then how does it live?
What, Pray Tell?
“Something's preying on my mind*
“It must be pretty bhungry.”"—Lob-
Mrs Jones--Why do you all stay in
Mrs. Brown—Ill tel’ yom, Mrs
jones: We pay an enormously high
rent for this house and want to stay
in it enough to get our money's worth,
you see.
Oh, That Head!
Mistress (explaining routine to new
cook) Now. my husband siways goes
tn his club on Wednesday evenings
Cook —1 understand. ma'am. So he
won't want no breakfast on Thurs
days. ~—Humnrist.,
Making a Complete Job
She You never hear of women cagh-
jers running off with their employer's
money.
He—Not often, but when It does
nappén they take the employer, 100,
Stray Stories
Stampede Incomplete
“Yes, It was a sad case about Hayes.
S'nee he lost all his money half his
friends don’t know him any more”
“What about the other half?
“They don’t know yet that be has
fost IL" Moncton Transcript.
©
Hard Lines
“What brought you to prison, man?
“Competition, mum.” was the reply.
“Competition? 1 dont understand.”
“Yes, mum, competition. | made
the same sort of hall crowns as the
government."—Tatler Magazine,