"When a Girl Marries"
By ANN LISLE
A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorbing
Problems o£ a Girl Wife
Chapter CCV
(Copyrighted. 1919, King Features
Syndicate, Inc.)
When Neal passed the restaurant
the day 1 was lunching with Anthony
Norreys 1 was helpless, and 1 knew
it.
I couldn't lean out across the bal
cony and shout to Neal, *.nd there
wasn't the slightest hope that Evvy
would call his attention to my pres
ence, or that he'd do anything moie
than bow even if she did. So 1 had
to let mv brother get away from me
again, and I didn't even know where
he was living.
I.ater m the afternoon, when Tony
and 1 had talked our till about Bet
ty's happiness and the bravery that
was keeping unhappiness at bay,
end he had gone back to work I
put my pride in my pocket and tele
phoned Evvy. 1 wanted news of
Neal, so 1 was prepared to let her
gloat over me if only she'd tell me
how to get in touch with him. But
Evvy wasn't home. I left word for
her to telephone me that evening
or the next morning.
Evvy did neither, but early the
next morning the clerk at the Wal
grave announced, "Miss Mason call
ing."
"Send her up," X replied, with
mixed emotions.
1 didn't expect to enjoy Evvy's
\isit, but I thought it might prove
useful to me. I was right—and
wrong. As soon as our tirst greet
ings were exchanged, Evvy got down
to business. She had taken off her
smart sable scarf and seemed ab
sorbed in patting the fur to absolute
sleekness as she spoke in her throaty,
little voice:
"is that distinguished - looking
man you were lunching with yes
terday the latest, Anne?"
"What do you mean?" I demand
ed.
"Oh, don't play Puritan with me!"
Evvy's voice was amused, and she
gave, me a fleeting glance at her
eyes'before they dropped again to
a study of the scarf.-
"I'm not playing anything." I re- '
plied, smoothly. "I want to know.
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MONDAY EVENING,
. however, what you mean when you
I ask a married woman if—a bach
elor is the latest?"
"A baby stare certainly goes with
'that remark!" laughed Evvy. "My
j dear, don't pretend that you're un
conscious of the sad fact that since
j the charming married women mo
' nopolize the bachelors, the debu
| tantes have to put up with the neg
i lected husbands. Society certainly
is a merry-go-round."
"Don't be cynical, Evvy!" I re
| torted, unsheathing the claws 1
; hadn't known I possessed. "Your
I role is girlish innocence. Cynicism
ages wide blue eyes dreadfully."
"I was trying to be tactful," re
j plied Evvy, fixing her blue eyes at
i their widest on me and evidently
i giving up the effort. "But you want
| it straight and if you haven't any
1 other sincere friend in New Y'ork,
I never forget—what I owe you and
I Jim. That's to save you from your
selves. If you don't see where you're
driving that dear boy the way
you're carrying on—well, it's time a
real friend told you."
"Evvy! You're insulting. I won't
listen;" I cried, wondering if women
ordered other women out of their
apartments anywhere except on the
stage.
Evvy rose, and her voice had an
injured, husky sweetness when she
spoke again;
"Anne, you act as if we had to
mince words. Don't I know there
isn't a particle of harm in you!
But you drive men to distraction
with the warmth of your eyes and
hair, and the coldness of your mouth
and manner. Tom's mad about you
—and you freeze him. And our
dear, unstable, reckless, boyish Jim
mie—don't you see what you're do
ing to him?"
"Evvy;" I cried in real distress
this tihie. "What do you mean?
Sit down and tell me."
"I mean this, Anne Harrison!
Jim has to have his own way or
think he's getting it. I didn't un
derstand that, so I broke with him
long ago. I don't want to see an
other woman —his wife—drive him
still nearer the reefs that I did."
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Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1918, International News Service By McManus
BY <SOLLN THI-b THE ) \\ I REALLV I . .| luTTLE (RICiHT OP THE. | 7~~] 1 bO 1 PARDON ME- 111 1 NFVPK MINPI
EA<biEt,T bNEAK\N' OCT THINK WE COOLO vVS STREET AND - CALLIN' ON JL <SIR-l HEARD I'M ANA/lr&
IVE PONF in A month- LET ME vnilTFI I'M TE^
There was a hidden barb in every
word, but the worst was saved for
the climax. "And I'm told that this
Mrs. Cosby is warm and alluring
and young. Do be careful, Anne,
ani if you have any trumps—play
them."
"Are you actually trying to do me
a good turn?" I asked, revealing
my attitude clearly before I real
ized it.
"Yes I am —though you may not
believe it," said Evvy more con
vincingly than she had ever spoken
before. "I saw Jim and the Cosby
woman at the Breakwater Inn Sat
urday night drinking vlchy as if it
were nectar. I'd come over from
our country place with Neal. He
Was staying the weekend with us.
How that nice boy did wince when
he say his sister's husband playing
the devoted to a beautiful woman!
Now, how do you think he'd have
felt if he'd seen you yesterday with
your gaunt cavalier?
"Neal knows me!" I cried. "He
wouldn't have thought any harm" —
Evvy broke in with a laugh:
! "Neal's beginning to know the
| city, too, and what it does to people.
He's a man now, Anne. He has a
man's way of looking at things—
- and a man's emotions. He idealizes
[ his 'Babbsie,' and I'd be the last
jto wake him up—unless I had to."
[ I knew there was a covert threat
lin that, but I couldn't drag it out
I where I might fight it. Nor could
j I persuade Evvy to give me any
' I clue as to Neat's whereabouts. But
! her parting words gave me food for
thought—if no satisfaction.
■ e "It wouldn't be loyal to Neal to
'tell you what he doesn't want you
rlta know. And you must realize how
11 loyal I am to the dear boy when I
i put my pride in my pocket and come
[ I hsre in spite of the way you always
i doubt me. If you weren't Neal's sis
, ter, I wouldn't have taken all the
trouble to warn you."
She left me with the feeling that
Neal wasn't my brother any more—
. merely a friend of hers. As for my
I friendship with Anthony Norreys.
I made up my mind Evvy couldn't
, touch that.
(To Re Continued.)
>
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HAKRISBUR® FI6BK TELEGRAPH:
Little Talks by
Beatrice Fairfax
An old gentleman with whom I once
crossed on an ocean steamer told a
group of us that he hqd paid four thou
. sand dollars for a little English cot
tage for which he had no other use
' whatever save merely to get the knocker
!on the front door.
| When the amazement, polite and other
| wise, had subsided, he withdrew his
j credentials for membership in the
| Ananias Club by adding that the
! knocker vin question was the famous
j "Brazenose" that once adorned the
j outer door of the college of that name
'at Oxford. And "Brazenose" wanted
its antediluvian knocker which had
j been stolen and lost for a century or
' so and was willing to pay for its re
turn.
I have never verified the story, and
very probably would have forgotten it
altogether it a semi-famous American
in the group had not said: "I have a
little knocker in my home that I would
give four thousand dollars to get rid of."
| And us his wife and daughters were
j not aboard, the rest of us did not know
| whether he was only joking, or if he
i did actually number one of these house
j hold pests among his immediate fam
ily. However, there are plenty of
j families that would cheerfully part with
I four thonsand dollars to wave a long
farewell to the demosticated knocker
that is always curdling the joy of liv-
J ing, and regard the release as cheap at
j ilie price.
Hammer-Throwers Among the Fair
If you study the knocker on his native
hearth-rug you will discover that he or
she—for there are some marvelous
ha'mmer-throwers among the fair—has
never a creative personality. He or
she is kept entirely busy in wrecking
the creations, aspirations, hopes, gifts
and joys of every one who comes within
the radius of the trusty little hammer, j
The knocker is the original "Blighter" j
whose sole joy consists in picking flaws
in some one's else achievements, and
telling how things reallv should have
been done. The knocker is lavishly ]
' gifted with hindsight—if he possesses
foresight he never applies it—the
finished product is his delight, it offers
more scope for his hammer.
When the family knocker is the head
of the house, he runs for his trusty lit
tle implement every time his wife gets
a new gown, and with eyes glowing
with reul missionary zeal he hastens
to tell her that she dresses "too young
for a woman of her age." If she has
anticipated this knock by getting the
oldest, saddest, most down-hearted crea
tion in the semi-mourning department,
he is still prepared with a knock or
two. Isn't the thing too short? or a
bit low in the neck? or isn't a trifle
too scanty as to cut? or doesn t it re
semble that old thing Mrs. Dubb has
been wearing for the past three years.
And that settles it. Mrs. Dubb is the
synonym for all that is frumpish the
way of clothes, and his wife now loathes
her new gown to such a degree that
his final knock about its utter extrava
gance fails to bring a reaction.
Daughter's Gown Too Old
If it is daughter that is being pilloried
on account of her new gown, the ham
mer strokes are reversed and he informs
her that the gown is "entirely too old
for a girl of her age." It is also too
long and too high about the ears and
he'll stand none of that vampire sug
gestion about her clothes. He will have
her understand that she is his daughter
and not Theda Bara.
It is the same way about everything
else. If the wife sings, she is off the
key or flat, or sharp, or the last time
he heard that thing, Mary Garden sang
it and it seems almost a desecration,
etc And by the time his wife has dis
covered that he knows nothing at all
about music, her spirit is broken and
she does not want to sing.
But sometimes it is the wife and
mother who is the knocker in the home,
and her gentle and incessant tap, tap,
tap may be heard on every subject from
father's Increasing waist *°
the curtains in the next-door house,
which are imitation, while
real She loves her husband dearly,
but she considers it her sacred duty to
tell him of his faults, particularly at
meals, where he may sit as a horrible
example to the children. _ '
She finds fault with everything from
the tobacco he smokes to the way he
cuts his hair. And "doesn t he think
that if he had it trimmed another way
it would hide the fact that he has not
a very well shaped head?"
\nd is he actually going out a K a ' n
to-night, and she does not see why he
docs not stay at home oftener. afterall
She does to make the home what Is
And. good heavens, is Mary, the
oldest daughter, going to have copipany
again' No. positively, she cannoF make'
lemonade for them. If they want lemon
ade let them get it at the comer drug
store Then she takes a shy at * ve jy
friend of Mary's who has ever shown
I a head around the premises. And so
on ad infinitum, till you do no wonder
at the man who said that he had a
uttlc knocker in his home that he d
give four tlmusand dollars to getr.dof
—and 1 should not be surprised U there
weren't others who would not gladly
raise the ante.
FIVE MINUTES' WALK
Hubbubs —What is your idea of
the most deceptive thing in lif< \•
Subbubs Well, just ofThand, I
should say a five minutes' walk from
the station. —New York Globe.
STRINGS
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Life's Problems
Are Discussed
By Mrs. Wilson Woodrow
I There was a neat pile of unopened
l letters on my desk, and just as 1 reach
ed for the paper cutter to unseal them I
said to myself:
"I know what is in every one of
them. I one form or another they will
all contain the appeal: 'Please, Madam
Spider, sitting weaving your web of
words, tell us how we may win our
heart's desire.' One of them will ex
press the longing for companionship;
another asks only success and how to
gain it; a third will yearn for the love
which is withheld, and a fourth could
reach the stars if only he .were able to
to obtain the necessary education."
Yet in every unsatisfied longing
lies the seed of accomplishment. We
wouldn't want whatever our hearts are
set on if it were not in our power to se
cure it.
But the trouble with most of us is
that we see only one way to "Fortune's
happy gate." We concede that all roads
lead to Rome, but we ignore the lanes
and the by-paths which are open to ua
and fix our gaze solely on that one
highway which has a hedge between us
and it so high, that we cannot climb over.
A woman told me a story of her own
experiences which illui trates this fact.
She said that as a young girl she
went to a large city to cultivate her
voice. She knew no one, the few peo
ple whom in time she met did not at
tract her, and she was desperately
lonely.
This led to acute homesickness. She
began to lose interest in her studies;
her voice, even her health was affected
by her mental state, and she was many
times on the verge of giving up and go
ing home. But her pride was involved
and she tried to stick it out.
As a recourse from this depression,
she followed a quaint little impulse and
began to write a letter a day to an im
aginary friend. And gradually she
found the composition of these letters
so absorbing that she forgot all about
being lonely. She had dreaded going
alone and walking the streets, and she
had dreaded even more remaining in her
room. But now that feeling passed.
After her lesson was over and when she
was not practicing, she had something
to do that interested her.
She took the greatest pains with those
letters, trying to make them natural and
charming and full of color and incident.
She related bits of her past life, the
happenings of her present. She describ
ed her new impressions, the things she
saw and heard, the people she encoun
tered.
Then came the desire to answer these
letters, so she created a correspondent
whose communications raust be. of
course, in an entirely different vein.
This correspondent, she decided, should
be a traveller, and consequently she be
gan to study maps and books of travel.
She kept this up. During thp time
that elapsed, she had made several con
genial acquaintances. To a few of them
she showed her letters, and finally one
who was connected with a magazine
urged her to try her hand at fiction.
She did so, began to sell her stories and
ultimately found her career switched
from one form of expression to quite
another.
As It turned out, her guardian angel
must have known what he was about;
for her voice, after a good deal of time
spent in its cultivation, proved to be
nothing remarkable.
The main point, however, is tha she
got to "Rome—not along the highway
upon which she had set out to travel,
but by a little, winding path which
caught her fancy.
Suppose that she had ignored that
impulse to write the imaginary letters,
she would have stupidly crushed an un
suspected talent.
She was not taking any time from
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her lessons or her hours of practice;
she was simply putting a little life
and vivacity into her idle moments,
which she would otherwise have occu
pied in pitying herself for being so lonely
and unhappy.
Professor William James asserted
that we only use about one-fourth of
our brain power, and that we are really
reservoirs of unsuspected wealth and
i untapped mental ability.
The majority of us don't begin to draw j
on these reservoirs, and we are not al- j
ways wise when we suppress our im
pulses to do things on the side.
The more knowledge and training we i
can pick up here and there, by that t
much more our work in any particular
line is improved and enriched.
Advice to the Lovelorn
TWO BOYS AND A GIRD
Dear Miss Fairfax:
1 am eighteen and love a young [
man of twenty. A short time ugo I !
meet a young man and he asked me !
to write to his brother in France. j
His brother knew me. hut I didn't (
know him. Foolishly I started to ,
write and he answered with nice j
friendly letters. Now 1 get letters j
from hint with love in them.
I am worried for the soldier is.
coming home soon. My friend, whom j
I really love, knows nothing of these i
letters, and if he found out, I don't J
know what he would say to me. j
WORRIED.
I should tell the young man I j
really love the truth, while not do- ;
ing wrong and to which no one, but i
the most jealous "Turk" could ob- |
ject. You wrote merely friendly ;
letters to a soldier, as thousands of j
American girls did, and finally the i
soldier's friendly letters began to j
contain a love interest. At the same j
time I'd write to the soldier and tell 1
him your interest was only friendly. |
SHE IS IX DOVE WITH HER '
TEACHER
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am a girl of eighteen and go
to college, and I am deeply in love j
with my teacher, ten years my sen- !
ior. He has asked my to marry '
him. But my family objects. They f
claim he is too old for me and that I
he also pays much attention to his I
I I'
A Big Suit Sale!
1
Women's and Misses' t
Spring Suits 1
Regular $25.00, $29.50, $32.50 and $35.00 j
SUITS sl/.75 j
On Sale Irw 1 fig
Wednesday lOi |
Just 126 Suits Go On Sale!
Be on Hand Wednesday At 9 A. M. jjj
ji
See Suits Now On Display In Our Window |
Full Description In This Paper Tomorrow
| Remember These Are Regular $25 to $35
SUITS sl/.75 |
1 w% S eX for |
MAY 26, 1919.
other pupils. Would you advise me
which is best, to marry him or try |
to forget hint?
DOUBTFUL.
At eighteen it is certainly best to i
regard the wishes of one's parents, j
as no one else could possibly have |
Mary says—Do, do cut my sandwiches real thin.
Rob says—Make mine man's size.
But they both agree that
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your welfare so closely at heart.
If the young man cares about you
In the right way, he will certainly
be anxious for you to finish your
educational course before asking you
to marry him. For the present, at
least, I would try to forget him.
5