Om oil Ike RsrftiKj Ij^Pjl " When a Girl " ! By ANJf LISLE A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorbing Problems of a Girl Wife CHAPTER XXIX , (Copyright. 1918, by King Features Syndicate. Inc.) "What's that husband of yours 1 been doing?" demanded a voice from the doorway. I looked up from the eggs I was frying, and there stood my brother, i looking like a neatly scrubbed and tremendously overgrown young cherub. "You mean my eyes?" I smiled, j "It's the eggs—they sputter so I : always look weepy." Conversation between Xeal and: me always was rather sketchy. In i the old days we understood each ; other so well that we frequently; skipped a mental step or two, and j then sometimes we had to go back and unravel the "skipping." Said Xeal, truculently: "Nothing of the sort, Babbsie. j I've seen you fry eggs before, j What's he up to to make you cry?"i "It's just that he's so_ wonderful." j I cried, "You wouldn't understand —: he's so generous it hurts." "Hurts who? 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BELL 485 , DIAL 4308 > , .. , " * , • p';' SATURDAY EVENING. HXHJUSBtrRG TELEGRAPH OCTOBER 5, 1918 By now wo had progressed to a corner of tho refectory table, and Xeal was revelling In raspberries and eggs and toast and cream fla vored with coffee—all of which he mingled with royal disdain of the proper order of procedure. I handed Xeal sugar for his ber ries, salt for his eggs, butter for his toast and then took up the thread of conversation, using it as a clue to lead me precisely where I wanted to go. "About your coming to New York, Mr. Hyland—now. Just how did that happen?" I asked. Xeal waved a piece of toast in a large gesture and flourished a spoonful of raspberries as he re plied: "Say, Babbsie, I've got a swell job —simply swell! Your little old fox isn't so slow. Who's the chap said our town was a good place to come from? Well, I came young—early —pronto!" It seemed to me that Neal was overdoing things a bit, so I decided to overdo them a bit also and to in sist on a reply. "Xeal, you haven't answered me yet. Why did you come?" I demanded. "Babbsie, you haven't lost the trick of frying eggs. You flopped them just right. Why did I come? For thirty dollars a week!! Are you answered, madam? Maybe you don't think thirty dollars a week is a swell salary—maybe you don't!" "What did Father Andrew think I of your coming?" I demanded. "What would he think of it with i you in town here?" questioned Neal in turn "Why, of course. Father Andrew wouldn't mind," I said thought fully. "He'd expect you to stay right here with us and he couldn't help being proud of your earning so much —thirty dollars. Neal—for a baby like you." Xeal rose majestically and frowned: ' "I'm twenty-two, Anne. They think boys of twenty-one are men— 'old enough to go over and rush the Germans. And I've been working I' in an accountant's ofticq at home every summer since I was fifteen. You' know that. I've had a good job at home, too, since I got out of ihigh school three years ago. Eigh jteen per wasn't so bad." "Eighteen a week out home would | go almost as far as thirty here." ] I said, wondering if Neal wouldn't] be better off at home. "Well, you know I paid in eight I a week for board Babbsie. What] are you going to charge me? II should think about fifteen, the wayi prices are in New York. Say, this j is a swell room—and a swell couch. I I've struck It rich." Suddenly I realized that Neal took ' it for granted he was going to stay ] with me. What would Jim say? "Listen, dear, I want you to re main here just as long as you're comfortable —but I'm not going to! take money from my own darling! kid brother," I replied firmly. "Well. I like that! Say, Babbsie. j didn't I pay in eight per at home?! | Don't turn this little old fox loose! j in New York with too much cash— l 'he might buy himself a gold brick ] ] Say, sis, let's toss up a penny who! • washes the dishes. The winner! ] dries them." As we finished the work, Neal looked around with a complete air of possession—of belonging. "They paid me a week in advance sis," he suddenly said. "Here's my first fifteen. It's .worth it, Babsie. My, but you know how to flop eggs ! —and your coffee—yum— yum!" "I can't take it, Neal money from my little brother!!" Neal forced the bills into my hand. "Can the sentiment, sis. It's all right between us, but I'm not going ito sponge on that husband of I yours." "I won't take your money," I said | stubbornly. "What did father say i about your plans to pay me?" "Father said nothing." Neal loked down at his feet. "He didn't know I was coming. I got my job and lit out —suddenly." "Neal!" I cried in sudden fright. "Why did you do that?" "Now, Babbsie, I answered you long ago. Why? For thirty dol lars! To get mixed up with the big city and kind of get lost in it I want to live here, with your ex- Lieutenant and you and all your at tractive friends. Don't ask so many I questions, Babbsie—l tell you I've ] got my reasons all right! > Ar6 ydu going to be a good spo'rt and let me stay?" Neal's young face wore a look of deadly earnestness. I realized that it meant more to him than I knew to make his home with Jim and me, and I realized also, with cruel abruptness, that I must take his money. Ii "Neal, I won't ask you to tell me Bringing Up Father - Copyright, 1918, International News Service Z?y McManus * • I • bY SNEAKED OUT • 1 I I - OOT r ru IVOZLOVEPtTO _J TE U.XOO - VHERE THE! )j> - I'VE > -