Readiiyf firWaviQiv aivd all ike I&KUKI |Jpf|
" When a Girl Marries"
By AXX LISLE
A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorbing
Problem of a Girl Wife
CHAPTER CCVI
(Copyright ,1919, King Features
Syndicate, Inc.)
"What did you do?" I gasped,
shaken by the tragedy in Lane Cos
by's voice when he told me how
Valerie Demerrais —nurse to his in
sane wife and daughter of his boy
hood friend—had confessed her love
for him. , ,
Whatever he had done. I felt that
this was Lane's tragedy, not \ al s
and there was that poor insane
woman, his wife, Loretta. I tried to
think of her alone on that great
fruit ranch for weeks at a time,
with only Val to minister to her. _i
saw Vtil's hands —soft and dead
white in their thick puffiness—
'tending the sick woman. And I
found myself thinking of some
thick jungle-creeper matting and
twisting about a tree and squeezing
the sap and life out of it.
Lane Cosby's voice brought me
back.
"What did I do?" he repeated,
lifting one wiry brown hand to his
forehead and pressing it there a* if
he wanted to hold back some of the
thoughts that were struggling to
get out. "I put my arms about that
pretty little girly and I asked her
to let me send her away to school
where she'd meet folks. I told her
I had enough money to get a dozen
nurses for Loretta and set up a fine
place of our own. And I said that.
I knew she'd forget me if she met
nice young men her own age.
"But little Val clung to me anc.
asked me if I wanted to kill her.
And all of a sudden, with that slim
young thing trembling there in my
arms, I went mad. So to save us
both 1 pushed her away and ran
down to the orchard to think things
over. It went, to my head to have
that little Val-girl love me. I knew
then that I wanted her moi;e than
anything in the world. And I knew j
she was mine—for the taking. ' j
As he spoke Lane Cosby trembled j
with the depth of his feeling for
Val. It was fine feeling, too—that j
I knew. And however things ap- ,
peared, I felt sure that for Val's '
sake this big grown near of a man ]
had tried to fight down the savage ■
she had roused in him. To him Val
•was a child even now. But I had ;
seen her smiling cynically with the
wisdom of Cleopatra or any of the j
other sirens whose wisdom was as
deep and dark as the Nile. And I
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FRIDAY EVENING,
had heard her declare that what
she wanted she took.
"Lane," I said, "whatever you did
1 know you meant it to be right
j If you blundered Jim and I are
I going to stand by now and see that
j the world doesn't make you pay
| more than you should. Now will
i you tell me whatever you think I
| ought to know?"
"I'll tell you the rest—and get' it
; over," he muttered. And then the
| story poured out as if it couldn't
j be stopped or stayed any longer.
I "I came up from the orchard
i when it was dawn. Loretta know
{ me. She stirred and asked me where
| I'd been all night. 1 said out moon-
I ing over the fruit trees—never
j thinking she'd understand. Then she
j smiled, and I didn't understand. She
j was quiet all day, didn't give a bit
lof trouble. I put it up to Etienne
| DomarraiS that 1 was going to be a
] millionaire if I wasn't one already,
j and that since I was his oldest
I pal he could take a little from me
I'and let me give his girl the things
she'd have had if he hadn't lost his
j fortune.
"He saw it the way I did. So we
j picked out a school and told Val
i she was to go off the next week,
i She couldn't do enough for Loretta
iat the l.ist. Seemed as if she want
! Ed to make up to her for—loving
i me. And the last night Val was
j going to be home we walked out in
the garden and said goodby. She
cried a little and I had to kiss her.
• I had to!
j "Next morning she didn't come
• back as quick as usual from taking
| Loretta her breakfast. I went in
to see why she was staying. And
there was little Val fied up in a
I sheet, with Loretta hacking at her
i with a pair of garden shears she'd
, used the day before to cut roses.
I went crazy, too, then, fearing
• she'd kill my litle girl.
"I had to put Loretta away after
1 that. When they get murderous
j the asylum's the only place for
i them. Val's got the scar on her neck
yet under her hair.
"Once a week I'd go to the asylum
]to see Loretta. She didn't know
me. She'd just sit and brood and
talk about the devil who'd stolen
her man and how she'd get her
sure as fate. She kept saying that
; she had a right to kill the girl who
I laughed at her and boasted that she
was going to marry her husband.
All the time she'd say, 'lf I kill her
; she can't marry my husband, can
[ she?'
I trembled for poor litle inno
l cent Valeria, who just seemed to
i live for me. And then one day when
j I came to see Loretta she'd got out
: —escaiped. Straight to the Demer
! rais place I went. And there was
1 Loretta, lying on the matting m
i Val's room. She'd got a revolver
somehow,and shot herself. As she
lay on the floor—-dead—a picture of
me that Val had stuck in the corner
of her mirror was looking down
at her. We found poor little Val
.locked up in her mother's room
She was frightened till she was half
crazy, too. I married Val the veai
later—and I've tried to make up to
her for all she's been through. But
now "
Lane Cosby ended his story with
a sudden choking, sobbing breath
that caught in his throat. I knew
he was seeing every detail of the
horror he had sketched for me. I
Garments of Quality
Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1918, International News Service By McManus
MR. MACK A.RONEY )fDO I HAVE TO If AH! MR. JI,VTOU f* IT MOW- If RI4HT T>IROO<H w - w manv I T1 1. .. 1
WILL CMU TONHHT TO HIM' HAVE A BEAUTIFUL OUT Too OU<HT HERE I* THf OH! A&OOT
AND I WANT TOO J HOME • IT'b NICE TO BE HERE. SERVANTS ROOMS! DC.KVANTD ONE THIRD
1 J I 1:^1
felt as If some one ought to take
this great big, broken man in their
airms and mother him. But I djdn't
dare move. Lane Cosby's breathing
rasped out heavily in the stillness
of the room. He was panting as if
he had run a race. Suddenly his
voipe thundered:
"Now this Mason woman's got
hold of it. And shte comes and
taunts my poor little Val, twisting
it to suit herself. I don't krrow
how much she knows—or what she
wants to keep still. But I'll pay her
—whatever her price is."
"Why should you—" I began.
But Lane Cosby interrupted me.
and his ashen face told me what
was his most terrible fear.
"Don't you see, Anne? Don't you
see?" he cried. "My poor little Val
was alone with the —crazy woman
that afternoon. No one saw what
happened between them. I know
Loretta thought Val had stolen her
man from her, and that she was set
on that one idea—to kill my little
girl. But the pistol Loretta clutched
in her dead hand belonged to
Etienne Demerrais."
(To Be Continued)
MAKE SERVICE
STAR PERENNIAL
An electrically lighted service star
on top of an evergreen tree which
has been planted in honor of its
heroes is the methods which Ba
ta'via, 111., has adopted to keep be
fore its people the services of these
men, says a report to the American
Forestry Association, of Washington,
which is registering all memorial
trees planted. The evergreen at
Batavia also is to serve as a com
munity Christmas tree, and some
other communities throughout the
United States are setting out-a tree
which can be used every Christmas
or on other occasions instead of get
ing a new tree every time one is
needed.
CHECK SHIFTING SANDS
The Michigan Agricultural Col
lege, through its forestry depart
ment, is planting about 75,000 trees
among the sand dunes in some of
the western Michigan districts in an
effort to check the shifting of these
big sand piles, says a report to the
American Forestry Association, of
Washington, which is encouraging
the planting of trees set out as me
memorials to soldiers and sailors.
HAJRJUHBTJRG TELEGKXPH
LIFE'S PROBLEMS
ARE DISCUSSED
By MRS. WILSON WOODROW
Temperament, I find, is by no
means a monopoly with poets,
painters and prima donnas. It is a
far more prevalent complaint than
half of those imagine who so proud
ly flaunt its possession.
Outside of having had an opera
tion, I doubt if there is anything
the average human being cherishes
quite so fondly as the suspicion
that he is "temperamental." Yet
two-thirds of the time the term is
merely a camouflage to deceive the
squirrels.
A building contractor was tell
ing me the other day of the pecu
liar disability which affects one of
his employes—a clear case of tem
perament.
"Generally speaking, there isn't
a better teamster in the world,"
he said. "He's a big, burly fellow
with strength enough in his arms
to hold a runaway locomotive, yet
with a hand so easy that it
wouldn't fret the most fractious
colt. Jie understands horses
can almost speak their language
—and when he is right, can get
more out of a team with less strain
than any man I ever saw.
"For seven months of the year
he's almost worth his weight in
gold to me; but with the first
touch of winter I might as well
lay him off. Cold weather, espe
cially if there happens to be the
least presence of snow or sleet on
the ground, practically takes the
heart out of him.
"There's some peculiar kink in
his mind, some suggestion of fear
or failure, that at the sight of a
sprinkling or snow brings the yel
low streak out in him and ren
ders him incompetent. And the
horses know it even sooner than
we do. He can take his seat on
the box, gather up the lines, crack
his whip, and holler 'Giddapl' till
he's black in the face; but not a
step for him will they budge. Put
another driver in his place,
though, and the team will move
off as quiet and willing as you
please. A horse, you know, is a
pretty wise bird and mighty par
ticular about who's driving him."
Now. I admit that "The Temper
amental Teamster" sounds more
like a farce title than the subject
for a homily; yet it struck me as
I heard the anecdote that it was
not without significance as a lesson.
1 recalled it this morning when
I was considering a letter I had
received from "A Discontented
Wife."
Not that she lacks ample rea
son for a discontent, if the picture
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she paints of her home life is I
even half true. Her husband she j
describes as a lazy loafer wh'o in [
the last five years has not put in j
more than two of them at work. !
What he wants is a job paying :
good wages but requiring very 1
little effort, and instead of going
out to hunt for it, he expects it to j
plate. Then, when he does se- !
be brought to him on a silver I
cure a position, he makes himself '
so disagreeable over it and is so !
eager to avoid over-exertion that he
finds himself soon let out.
So, for the most part, he lives a !
life of elegant leisure, sleeping
until ten or eleven o'clock in the
morning, and then dawdling about
the house while he occupies him
self in smoking and a perusal of
the day's racing sheet. And, if i
some horse he has doped as a j
winner happens to come in first, |
he fills the air with lamentations J
because he did not have ten dollars ,
to bet on it.
With absolutely no idea of the
Daily Dot Puzzle
———— ———— — 1
IU
28
* 29
• 26 * ' - 30
2 . 5
• 21 .31
• • n 2 . 4
'® 2* I V.?
17 . * 32
11. |2 .(=
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10. ,
9 14- * 34
ft 35
•58* • 6 * 3fo
7*5
• .4 * 3 7
"V* 3
•
4o
54 • V 4°
S6 53
i 42
• S! - ,?! •
a. ' A 4 •
Draw from one to ttvo and MO on
to the end.
A Wise Mother and
I
a Good Dessert
"I wish I could find something for
the children that they would like as
well as cornstarch pudding or blanc
mange," said Mrs. Matthews, as she
and Mrs. Edmonds sat talking one I
afternoon. "They're such a nuisance !
to make, and one never knows |
whether they are going to turn out !
right."
"Why don't you make Puddtne?
That always turns out right," replied j
her friend.
"Puddine?" questioned Mrs. Mat- !
thews, with interest. "What is it? |
Another dessert that sometimes is a i
success, but generally isn't?"
"No, indeed," said Mrs. Edmonds. |
emphatically. "Puddine is a per- 1
fectlv wonderful dessert that always
turns out right. You just add milk 1
and sugar to it and boil for three j
minutes, and you know that when it I
has cooled you will have a nice, rich
mold of delicious creamy dessert." i
"It sounds wonderful," interrupted I
Mrs. Matthews.
"It Is wonderful," replied Mrs. Ed
monds. "You can get it itl a number
of flavors —chocolate, vanilla, orange,
lemon —and you can use Puddine for '
all sorts of things. It makes the
most luscous cake and pie fillings,
and smooth, velvety ice cream."
"Is it expensive?" asked her friend. !
"Oh, no, indeed. A 15c package of
Puddine will serve 15 people. And
then what I like about it is that I
can let the children have as much as
they want, because it is pure and
wholesome."
vi certainly shall get some Pud
dine," said Mrs. Matthews. "I'm glad
you told me about it."
A week later the two friends were
talking together on the phone. "By
the way." said Mrs. Matthews, "my
whole family simply loves Puddine.
I think they'd like to have it for
every meal. I certainly am glad you i
told me about it."
Include a box of Puddine with to
day's grocery order.—Adv.
value of money, he expects as his
right all the good things of life,
and never bothers his' head about
who pays the bills. He* is per- j
fectly satisfied to let his wife i
meet their expenses out of her in- |
come, and unless money is forth
coming to meet his constant crav- \
ing for amusements, he acts like 1
a spoiled baby. And on top of all I
this he is t finished "nagger," ;
ready at any time to start on a i
litany of the poor woman's j
alleged shortcomings.
Naturally all affection is gone \
for so despicable and contemp- i
tible a character. The wife would j
be perfectly willing never to see j
his face again. There are no ties I
to bind them together. She is not |
dependent on him for support, j
Again and again, she says, she
has started out with the intention !
of leaving him. Then, why hasn't i
she done so?
Because, as she explains, she has 1
no relatives and no friends who j
could take her in, and she shrinks j
from going among strangers. The I
world seems to her so big and cold j
and cheerless that after each at- i
tempt to leave she crawls back to j
the things she knows.
She deplores her own lack of'
moral courage and initiative and j
wishes she had a father or a i
brother or some one to take her j
by force out of her present envi- j
ronments. but knowing her own '
weakness, she sees no hope.
I have every sympathy for that '
poor wife, and I would be the last!
person in the world to offer any!
excuses for her worthless husband, j
Yet as I read her letter I could |
not help being reminded of those j
horses who knew when the "yellow I
■ —everybody likes
Cloverdak
I em GINGER ALE *1
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M '' : "m (fill """"" P e PP er is cheaper BUT IT BURNS
H iTJ. your lips and throat—so we never use . vgS&y """
fl a particle of it.
M """111 NO c*tcua TL ' 1 11* 1 • CONTAIN® NO CAHICUa
1 " at s why you 11 instantly notice -
a decidedly different, a truly enjoyable
f,avor in CLOVERDALE GINGER
N ALE. After your first taste you'll
1| You'll Also Enjoy the Other ■ Order a Case Sent Home H
CLOVERDALE Beverages Always Serve Cold M
Sarsaparilla Birch Beer Two full-sized glasses to the bottle—24 M
Limes and Lithia Mineral Water bottles to a case. Get it by the Lottie or II
If Lemon Soda Root Beer casc wherever good drinks are sold. H
Drink a Bottle of Cloverdale Every Day 1
Wholesale Distributors ! ' Evans, Burtnett to. HI
I for Horrl.burg j Co. 11l
R Tk 7 Confectioner fCopyrighted. 1919, 111
B3 * ( ' OVOrCla '°
- - "
JULY 25, 1919.
j streak" was uppermost in their
I driver.
j May it not be that the "yellow
i streak" she herself admits is part
|ly responsible for the husband's
! worthlessness, that he senses it. and
j treads upon it just as the horses
I did with their driver, and that with
I a more forceful character he might
| have shown himself a different man.
| If she cannot bring herself to leave,
j why doesn't she try the "big stick"
j policy at home?
Advice to the Lovelorn
I FORGIVES HER INCONSTANCY
| Dear Miss Fairfax:
| I am 20. About a month ago
: I met a lady two years my junior.
| We have learned to love each other.
Now about six weeks ago she met
i another young man. Soon I re
! ceived a letter stating that I
' shouldn't come down to see her any
| more, and that she was going to
be married to the other. But after
| going about with him for two weeks
i they parted.
Now Miss Fairfax, what I want
j to know is this—l really care for
! her and I know she cares for me.
I Should I go back and ask her to
i become good friends again?
A READER.
I Since you are sure that real love
I exists at bottom between you and
; this young girl, why not seriously
I talk things qVer with her. at least.
] Not many young men would forgive
such an act of fickleness, but it is
| true that she is very young, and
i the fact that she was temporarily
I fascinated by some one else need
| not destroy your common happi
i ness, since you are tolerant enough
! to look at more than one side of
I the matter.
What is His Motive?
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am eighteen. Several months
ago my brother introduced me to his
c.huro, whom I have since learned
!to love. He has taken me out
j many times, and has been very at
| tentive to me. Recently I have been
j told that he loves another girl and
| that he is only going with me
to make her jealous. Now, Miss
Fairfax, I would not worry so much,
tut I like him very much, and more
than one person has told mo this.
Moreover, they are people whose
word cannot be doubted.
MIRIAM.
If this is true, perhaps the same
fate may overtake the young man
that has overtaken many otLers, he
j may start out to do this rather
ignoble thing and wind up by fgrUtng
! in love with you. He will qtot do
1 this, however, if you lose your head
I and show him plainly how much
I you care. An element of uocerrtaln
ty is a good thing in a love ai&tir.
I How to Rid the Skin
of Objectionable Hairs
(Aids to Beauty)
A simplified method is here givan
for the quick removal of hairy op
fuzzy growths and rarely is mora
than one treatment required: Mix a
stiff paste with some powdered dela
tone and water, apply to hairy sur
face and after 2 or 3 minutes irufc
off, wash the skin and every hair
has vanished. This simple -treat
ment cannot cause injury, but care
should be exercised to get real dela
tone.
11