CENTRE HALL, PA. » wealthy New Yorker. despondent. had been Edith Towne. Frederick Towne. Mrs. Follette, widowed mother tive comfort by run fllusioned her pock That morning Baldwin Barnes, on He knew then that his passenger The next dz Evans, mentally depressed and dis- She asked him to bring £ CHAPTER V—Continued — Jane bought modestly and Briggs carried her parcels. He even made a suggestion as ta the cut of the steak. His father, it seemed, had been a butcher They drove back then for Fred- erick. Briggs went up for him, and returned to say that Mr. Towne would be dower in a moment. Frederick was, as a matter of fact, finishing a letter to Delafield Simms: “lI am assuming that you will get your mail at the Poinciana, but I shall alse send a copy to your New York office. Edith has asked me to return the ring to you. I shall hold it until 1 learn where it may be de- livered into your hands. ‘““As for myself, 1 can only say this—that my first impulse was to kill yau. But perhaps I am too civi- lized to believe that your death would make things better. You must understand, of course, that you've put yourself beyond the pale of de- cent people.” Lucy's pencil wavered—a flush stained her throat and cheeks—then she wrote steadily, as Frederick's voice continued: “You will find yourself black- balled by several of the clubs. What- ever your motive, the world sees no excuse.” He stopped. “Will you read that over again, Miss Logan?” So Lucy read it—still with that hot flush on her cheeks, and when she had finished Frederick said, “You can lock the ring in the safe until I give you further instruc- tions.” A clerk came in to say that the car was waiting, and presently Frederick Towne went away and Lucy was left alone in the great room, which was not to her a for- est of adventure, as it had seemed to Jane, but a great prison where she tugged at her chains. She thought of Delafield Simms sailing fast to southern waters, Of those purple seas—the blazing stars in the splendid nights. Delafield had told her of them. They had often talked together. She turned the ring around on her finger, studying the carved figure. The woman with the butterfly wings was exquisite—but she did not know her name. She slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand. Its diamonds blazed. She locked it presently in the safe --then came back and read the letter which Towne had signed. She sealed it and stamped the envelope. Then she wrote a letter of her own. She made a little ring of her hair, and fastened it to the page. Beneath it she wrote, “Lucy to Del—forever.” She kissed the words, held the crackling sheet against her heart. Her eyes were shining. The great room was no longer a prison. She saw beyond captivity to the open sea. Mrs. Allison and the three old la- dies with whom Jane was to drink tea, were neighbors. Mrs. Allison lived alone, and the other three lived in the homes of their several sons, and daughters. They played cards every Friday afternoon, and Jane always came over when Mrs, Alli- son entertained and helped her with the refreshments. They were very simple and pleasant old ladies with a nice sense of their own dignity. At any rate, they had Jane. Some of the other young people scorned these elderly tea-parties, and if they came, were apt to show it in their manner. But Jane was never scorn- ful. She always had the time of her life, and the old ladies feit par- ticularly joyous and juvenile when she was one of them. But this afternoon Jane was late, Tea was always served promptly at four. And it happened that there were popovers. So, of course, they couldn't wait. “l telephoned to Sophy,” said Mrs. Allison, “and Jane has gone to town. 1 suppose something has kept her. Anyhow we'll start in.” So the old ladies ate the popovers and drank hot sweet chocolate, and found them not as delectable as when Jane was there to share them, Things were, indeed, a bit dull, They discussed Mrs. Follette, whose faults furnished a perpetual topic. Mrs. Allison told them that the young Baldwins had dined at Castle Manor on Thanksgiving. And that there had been other guests, “How can she afford it,"”” was the unanimous opinion, “with that poor boy on her hands?” ‘He's sitting up there on the ter- race,”’ Mrs, Allison further informed them. ‘Do you think I'd better ask him to come over?” They thought she might, but her hospitable purpose was never ful. filled, for as she stepped out on the porch, a long, low limousine stopped in front of the house, and out of it came Jane in all the glory of a great bunch of orchids, and with a man by her side, whose ele- gance measured up to the limousine and the lovely flowers. They came up the path and Jane said, “Mrs. Allison, may I present They came up the path. Mr. Towne, and will you give him a cup of tea?” “Indeed, I will,” Mrs. Allison seemed to rise on wings of gratifica- tion, “only it is chocolate and not tea.” And Frederick said that he adored chocolate, and presently Mrs. Alli- son's little living-room was all in a pleasant flutter; and over on Jane's terrace, Evans Follette sat, a lonely sentinel, and pondered on the limou- sine, and the elegance of Jane's es- cort. Once old Sophy called to him, “You'll ketch your death, Mr. Ev. ans." He shook his head and smiled at her. A man who had lived through a winter in the trenches thought nothing of this. Physical cold was easy to endure. The cold that clutched at his heart was the thing that frightened him. The early night came on. There were lights now in Mrs. Allison's house, and within was warmth and laughter. The old ladies, excited and eager, told each other in flash. ing asides that Mr. Towne was the great Frederick Towne. The one whose name was so often in the pa- pers, and his niece, Edith, had been deserted at the altar. “You know, my dear, the one who ran away.” When Jane said that she must be getting home, they pressed around her, sniffing her flowers, saying pleasant things of her prettiness— hinting of Towne’s absorption in her. She laughed and sparkled. It was a joyous experience. Mr. Towne had a way of making her feel im- portant. And the adulation of the old ladies added to her elation. As Frederick and Jane walked across the street towards the little house on the terrace, a gaunt figure rose from the top step and greeted them. “Evans,” Jane scolded, “you need a guardian. Don’t you know that you shouldn't sit out in such weather as this?" “I'm not cold.” She presented him to Frederick. “Won't you come in, Mr. Towne?" But he would not. He would call her up. Jane stood on the pore! and watched him go down the steps. He waved to her when he reached his car, “Oh, Evans,” she said, “I've had such a day.” They went into the house together. Jane lighted the lamp. ‘Can't you dine with us?" “1 hoped you might ask me. Moth- er is staying with a sick friend. If I go home, I shall sup on bread and milk.” “‘Sophy’'s chops will be much bet- ter.” She held her flowers up to him. “Isn't the fragrance heaven- jy?" “Towne gave them to you?” She nodded. “Oh, I've been very grand and gorgeous—lunch at the Chevy Chase club—a long drive aft- erward—'' she broke off. “Evans. you look half-frozen. Sit here by the fire and get warm.” “I met both trains.” “Evans—why will you do such things?" “l wanted to see you.” “But you can see me any time—"' “lI cannot. Not when you are lunching with fashionable gentlemen with gold-lined pocketbooks.” He held out his hands to the blaze. “Do you like him?" “Mr. Towne? Yes, and I like the things he does for me. I had to pinch myself to be sure it was true.” “If what was true?” “That I was really playing around with the great Frederick Towne." “You talk as if he were conferring a favor." She had her coat off now and her hat. She came and sat down in the chair opposite him. “Evans,” she said, “you're jealous." She was still vivid with the excitement of the aft- ernoon, lighted up by it, her skin warmed into color by the swift flow- ing blood beneath. “Well, I am jealous,” he tried to smile at her, then went on with a touch of bitterness, ‘Do you know what I thought about as I sat watch- ing the lights at Mrs. Allison's? Well, as I came over today I passed a snowy field—and there was a scarecrow in the midst of it, flutter- ing his rags, a lonely thing, an ugly thing. Well, we're two of a kind, Jane, that scarecrow and 1.” Her shocked glance stopped him. are saying." He went on recklessly. “Well, aft. er all, Jane, the thing is this. It's a man's looks and his money that count. I'm the same man inside of me that I was when I went away. You know that. You might have loved me. The thing that is left you don't love. man--"’ As he flung the words at her, her eyes met his steadily. “No,” said, “you are not the same man.” “Why not?" “The man of yesterday did not think-—dark thoughts" if he had blown it with a breath. “Jane,"” he said, unsteadily, “I am BOITY—"" She melted at once and began to scold him, almost with tenderness. “What made you look at the scare- crow? Why didn't you turn your back on him, or if you had to look, why didn’t you wave and say, ‘Cheer up, old chap, summer's coming, and you'll be on the job again’? To me there's something debonair in a scarecrow in summer—he dances in the breeze and seems to fling de- fiance to the crows.” He fell in with her mood. his defiance is all bluff.” “How do you know? If he keeps away a crow, and adds an ear of corn to a farmer's store—hasn't he fulfilled his destiny?” “Oh, if you want to put it that way. I suppose you are hinting that I can keep away a crow or two" “But “I'm not hinting, I am telling it straight out.” a pat as she passed him. ‘You are thinking about yourself too much, old dear; stop it.” detailed account of Jane's adven- ture. “And 1 took Briggs to market,” she told him gleefully, midway of her recital; “you should have seen him. He carried my parcels—and offered advice—"' Baldy had no ears for Briggs’ at- tractions. “Did you get the things Miss Towne wanted?" “We did. We went to the house and 1 waited in the car while Mr. Towne had the bags packed. He wanted me to go in but I wouldn't, We brought her bags out with us.” “Who's we?" “Mr. Towne and I, myself,” she added the spectacular details. “Do you mean that you've been playing around with him all day?” “Not all day, Baldy. Part of it.” “I'm not sure that 1 like it.” “Why not?" “A man like that. He might fill your head with ideas.” CHAPTER V1 Baldy Barnes faring forth Edith Towne on Sunday n was a figure as old as the youth in quest of romance. It was very cold and the clouds were heavy with wind. But neither cold nor clouds could damp his ar- to find wring ages with eves of burning blue. People were going to church as he came into the city and bells were ringing, but presently he rode again in country silences. He crossed the long bridge into Virginia and fol- lowed the road to the south. It was early and he met few cars. Yet had the way been packed with motors, he would have still been alone in that world of imagination where he saw Edith Towne and that first wonderful moment of meeting. So he entered Alexandria, pass- ing through the narrow streets that speak so eloquently of history. Be- yond the town was another stretch and at last an ancient roadside with a garden at barren now, but in sume extending out into the river, and a low spidery boat-landing, which showed black at this season above the ice. For years the old inn had been de- serted, until motor cars had brought vanished glories. Once more its wide doors were open. There was nothing pretentious about it. But Baldy knew its reputation He wondered how Edith had kept herself hidden in such place. It was amazing that no one had dis- covered her. That some hint of her newspapers. He found her in a quaint sitting- room upstairs. trouble for me--"" ance was gone. she was doubly wonderful. his youth and inexperience, such nice things?" a lyre.” (TO BE CONTINUED) In the home, dust is misplaced dirt. Its proper habitat may be the broad acres of our farm land, or, resolved into its components, their place may be the seashore, the coal mine and a dozen or more organic sources. Singly, all these range from the harmless to the downright harms- ful, points out a writer in the Cleve- land Plain Dealer, Merged as dust, and within the four walls of our homes, however, it should be attacked wherever and whenever it is encountered. Dust is our constant and ubiquit- ous enemy, and the worst of it is that it ig present in so many places of which we are not readily aware. When soot filters in around the edges of a loosely adjusted window and settles on the sill, any careful homemaker is quick to remove it, but how many women stop to reflect that not all such soot remains on the sill? Some surely sifts past the sill, drops onto the floor, and is not near- ly so likely to get equally quick and thorough attention. The same is true of all the finer dust that continually is sifting in through loose openings. or is being carried in through doorways, or comes into the house from faulty heating equipment. Furthermore, it “ottles on the tops of window and door frames and on ceilings as well as on mantels, fur. niture and the floors. But this, of course, is not nearly so apparent to the homemaker. Suppose all the furnishings, up- holstering and floor coverings of a room were made in pure white! It would ‘take less than a day to con- vince even the most negligent house- wife that there is constant need for the consistent use of her vacuum cleaner, Everyone knows, for instance, how soon white clothing soils, yet dust and soot lodge just as consist. ently on all the exposed surfaces in the home. for using our dependable family friend, the vacuum cleaner, Largest U, 8, Canal The All-American canal is by the largest irrigation ditch in United States. It is 80 miles and has an initial capacity of 1 cubic feet of water per second. maximum section has a Jslss EF 22 a bottom width of 162 feet, wi water depth of 21 feet. The excavation amounted to a mately 65,000,000 cubic w : VERY THING her middle name was inefficiency. Her long-suffering employer decid- ed, reluctantly, to discharge her, and the girl had asked for a written character. For some time nothing was heard but the scratch of the pen; then her employer paused, as if in doubt. “Well, Susan,” said, “I've mentioned that you're clean, hon- est, and truthful. But how to ex- plain why I'm parting with you, without putting in something detri- mental, 1 really don't know.” “Why, that's just the mum,” replied Susan. “Say you really don't know why you parted i413 ’ with me. she Correct Fashion My wife is always com- that she has nothing to Guppy- plaining wear. Pometto—Great Scott, man! Tell her she’s right in the height of fash- ion without knowing it. Lucky Dog Askett—What do you know? When we came out of church Sunday, we found our dog asleep on the car run- ning board. Tellett—Why he couldn't hear the sermon out there, could he? INDIFFERENT **So the conductor compelled you to get off the car and walk when you found you hadn't the fare, eh?” “He compelled me to get off. 1 think he was wholly indifferent as to whether or not I walked.” Spanking Team Trader—Say, son, I'm looking for some horses and the man down the highway told me I'd find a spank- ing team here. Do you know where they Soy-—-Yes, sir: They're in the house are? Little Elsie came home from a neighbor's house munching a cook- je. Her mother reproved her, say- ing: “How many times have I told you not to ask Mrs. Brown for cookies?” **1 did not ask her,” returned El gie calmly. “I did not have to ask her. 1 know where the cookie jar is.” Repeat Performance Diner—l.ook here, manager. Do you remember that when I ate here two years ago and couldn't pay my bill you threw me out? Proprietor—Indeed? 1 am SOITY. Diner—Don’t mention it. I'm afraid you'll have to do it again. very Family Wash Helen—1 feel ashamed every time yard, Urma-No wonder! Not Her Job Dinocan-—Waitress, these eggs are What's wrong with them? Waitress—I don't know, sir; I only laid the table. ENOWN NEVERTHELESS “Like so many others, I suppose she's known by the clothes she ss?" “Well, not so much as she's known by the clothes she never pays for.” Long and Short Two women friends were looking at dresses downtown. One said: “I have trouble finding one long enough for me." “Well,” said the other, *‘it is the circumference that bothers me.” The prize for ing reason return merchandise was given by a woman the other day, who went into a store with a parcel, saying: “I'll have to return this dress. My dog doesn’t like it." CLASSIFIED DEPARTMENT OPPORTUNITY BE A BUYER FOR US Women, COMPANY, Antonio, Texas, PURCHASRING Ban STOVE & FURNACE REPAIRS FOR MEASLY ALL MARES AND SIZES Ask Your Dealer or Write Us FRIES, BEALL & SHARP CO, T24--10th Bt. HN. WwW, Washington, BD. €, Women Who Sew IAGRAM design for a house dress that's just about as comfortable as a house dress can be—with unbelited , plain absence of fold waistline, deep neckline, 3 make i st a few hours. Outdoors. he lilt of Spe ris , bell- outdoors, AS LW if even 13 J) —~whether roller or The Patterns. ned for sizes 14, skate dE No yards of 54-inch sleeved jacket an inch material 54-inch materia yard of 38-inch al ] 2% yards of 54-inch material fc skirt. Send your order to The Sewing Circle Pattern Dept, 247 W. Forty-third street, New York, N. Y. Price of patterns, 15 cents (in coins) each. {Bell Syndicate WNU Service.) Powerful Song Few songs have ever affected Brussels on the night of August 25, 1830. Inspired by it, the audi- ence stopped the performance, broke the chairs, rushed into the street and started the famous rev- olution through which Belgium won its administrative freedom from Holland.—Collier's. who advertise. They are not afraid of their mer- chandise or their prices.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers