" When a Girl Marries" By ANN USLE A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorbing Problem of a Girl Wife CHAPTER CCLXIII •Copyright, 1919, King Feature Syn dicate, Inc.l As s?e drove up the circling road that leads from the gate of Mason Towers to the ports cochere at the left of the house, we noticed Evvy's blue car standing at the front steps. "Maybe she was coming to town to get me," said Neal in a voice that suggested he was whipping him self to an enthusiasm he didn't feel. "Pretty late for that, isn't it dear?" I asked without taking deep, thought of the matter. "Guess it is." Then Neal leaped out, swung me and his bag out of the car, and was just at the point of pressing his finger to the bell when I cried. "See if the door's open, first. It ought to be, here in the country. And we might as well have a real surprise party." „ The screen door gave at Neal s first touch, and so we crept in like two conspirators. Through the corridor to the living room we went without finding Evvy. The house lay cool and silent, shuttered and brooding, hidden away from the copper sun of late afternoon. We, tiptoed along, stifling our giggles and feeling very young and mis chievious. "I'll bet she's in the little Summer house," whispered Neal when the conservatory and the breakfast room had joined the rest of the floor in refusing us Evvy. So we ran along the corridor to the little house where Val and I had found Evvy with Neal the night she announced her engagement. As we approached we heard the click of ice in a glass and Evvy's voice— throaty, provocative, unmistakable. "Some one with her," said Neal to me; then he called: "Evvy—surprise party! Guess who's here!" And then we stepped over the threshold of the sweet-smelling, vine-hung Summer house. For a second my eyes refused to adjust themselves to the outdoor glare. Then I saw Evvy on her feet by a chair her hasty movement had evi dently overturned. She was stand ing straight and taut and looking with a queer, stained expression at her companion, who was rising from a chair at the farther side of the rustic table around which the Sum mer house was built. I turned my head and met Jim's eyes. Jim! My Jim! Alone with Evvy Mason at her country place. For a moment I trembled, tortured beyond thought of faith by a burning rush of the old jealousy. This was the second time 1 had surprised them! How they must have laughed be fore —how they must be laughing now! Ilarsh. and ugly I felt laugh ter well up in my own throat. And then, as if they were hands to touch me gently, I became conscious of Jim's eyes on my face —on my very soul it seemed. His eyes were in tent, desperately earnest, they seem ed to be waiting for what I would do. I walked across the Summer house and lay my hand on Jim's shoulder. His hand went up to take it. Then Evvy broke the silence. Turning to Neal, she cried in high strident tones that bore no resem blance to the throaty, purring voice I had always heard: "What are you doing here, Neal! I thought you were coming out to morrow with mother." "Anne stopped for me. We drove out in her little car —to surprise you," replied Neal with emotion that astonished me. Did he care for Evvy, after all? * "To surprise me!" laughed Evvy curtly. "Well, you did. What are you going to do about it?" "Take my sister home!" Neal's voice rang out and he started toward me with boyish concern for what he thought I was undergoing. But strangely enough I was undergoing nothing of what he thought. Jim's eyes—the touch of Jim's hand had told me that I had nothnig to fear or to resent, that there was a reason for his being here and that the reason would satisfy me completely. At Neal's words Jini turned and looked at Neal—smiling as if he were waiting for something. "I'll take Anne home, Neal. Per haps you owe Neal some explana tion of our tete-a-tete, Evvy," he added carelessly, "We'll run along and leave you to—straighten things out." As he spoke, his arm slid about my shoulders and I leaned close to him, expressing silently, the love and faith I felt. Evvy studied us sneeringly for a moment—then she flung her arms out in a gesture of fury. "So you've been making a fool of me again, Jim Harrison. Per haps you staged this whole thing. You've been playing with me just as you did before. I wish I knew what it is you want of me—so I wouldn't have to do it this time. Well, run along—run along, you two. I wish you joy, you and your trusting wife." "Evvy!" cried Neal. Y r ou're speak ing to my sister! And it isn't Anne who has—offended you." At this Evvy turned on him with a look of utter scorn. "You fool," she said. "You young fool! Jim Harrison has you twisted around his finger, too. Here! I've had you twisted around mine long enough." She jerked her engagement ring ~7m her hand and flung it on the bible among the glasses and plates. Then she turned on Jim, shaking with rage: "1 hate you;" she cried. "I only I could show you how much 1.0,te .o,te you. Why did you call me back Cgain? And now you stand there M®*nting your love for Anne in my i*:e! Why don't you say something? Why don't you explain your fiickle, philandering nature? Perhaps you think I'd take you back again some IHarrisburg's LEADING and ACCREDITED Business College SCHOOL OF COMMERCE GIVES WHAT YOU WANT STANDARD Courses approved by the National Associa tion of Accredited Commercial Schools of the United States. Bell 485 - Enter Any Time Dial 4393 SATURDAY EVENING, day. But I won't—l'm through! You've made your choice of your angel-faced wife. You may stick to her for all of me—and I'll throw in her sweet baby brother for luck." Then she rushed out of the Sum mer house. We could hear her flying feet on the pebbles of the path, and then af ter a moment the chug-chug of a motor. I looked at Neal. lie seemed sud denly old and tired. But he didn't | appear to be noticing Evvy's de parture, nor yet the ring sparkling on the tea tray. Instead he was watching Jim and me with brooding, troubled eyes. To lie Continued. Advice to the Lovelorn By BEATRICE FAIRFAX SHE WON'T "MAKE VP" Dear Miss Fairfax: About a year ago a young lady and I had a quarrel, for which both were to blame. I wrote a letter of apology, but received a very sar castic reply. This young lady and I are always meeting, us we have the same group i of friends, and as this is embarrass -1 ing, I should like to be on speaking I terms with her again. However, I am afraid to try, for fear of a repeti ! tion of the snub I received in the j first place. PUZZLED. ( Why not attempt a light, airy tone i of banter with the young lady, since she will not accept your apology seriously. When girls act this way it is usually because they "care," though often they fail to recognize this symptom, and keep right on playing they are "mad." If you succeed in breaking the young lady's proud reserve by making her laugh, I believe you will have no further trouble. SHY WITH BOYS Dear Miss Fairfax: I am seventeen, and really I do not know whether I am good look- | ing or whether it's my ways that at- I tract the male sex. I am a steno- | gruplier, work all day and work in | my father's store at night, which he I does not want me to do. He wants | me to go out and enjoy myself, as | I have ever so many invitations. When I go out with girls I can have a lovely time back and forth to work. I I do not go out very often. Now, Miss Fairfax, mother scolds me and calls me a regular house hermit. Can you advise me fiow to overcome these ways of mine, as I could have a fine time if I wanted to. PUZZLED. Y'our lack of conversation when you are with young men doubtless comes from self-consciousness and a lack of poise. The only way to over come this is to go out until you overcome your timidity. Accept some of these various invitations and do not think so much about yourself. TO PLEASE HER PARENTS Dear Miss Fairfax: I am going about with a young man whom 1 do not love at all, but am doing so to please my parents, whom I love very much. I have known another young man I do like, but my parents object to him because he is only making $25 per week. The young man they want me to marry is well established in business. 13. M. P. Years ago when women were pawns on life's chess board, they married for a home, to please their parents, to take care of some wid ower's children—everything, appar ently except because they were in love, or to please themselves. Nowa days women don't marry to be ac commodating. If they are in love with a poor young man, and he is worthy, they work too and help him along. Daily Dot Puzzle 4• • 3 23 6 1 • • i • * 4 ' 34 * 7 Ao • . - . 36 39 fr 13 V • 'V • • 38 • '2- • Zo sa • 14 15 • • i • •21 33 '7 ~b SI • * *'Q 30. 2.z •23 29 c=3> >9 "J <C • 25 I Draw from one to two and so on to ihe end. I Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1918, International News Service - By McManus 1 I f - S.HKE WHAT ARE I i -WE . I A KNOW - ROT I HAVE THE LOVE GAMBLER By Virginia Terhune Van de Water CHAPTER XXXVIII. Copyright, 1919, Star Company. The noise continued. Not only did whistles screech, but horns were blown by excited pedestrians, songs were sung, loud cheers were shouted, automobile horns screamed and growled, and there were reports like the firing of pistols caused by flood ing automobile mufflers. Over all the blue sky stretched and upon all the golden sun shone. Anyone who was in New York on that afternoon in early November will never forget the experience. Through the masses Desiree Leighton threaded her way, jostled and pushed, yet indifferent to the press. She was in a state of ex altation that made her move as one in a dream. She had not appreciated until now how tense had been the strain of the past months. Boys whom she had known since childhood had gone overseas —many of their names had been on the casualty lists. She bad tried to keep calm, tried to take such things for granted. She had done so much war work that her father had warned her that she was wearing herself out. She knew bet ter. She felt that if she did not work she could not stand the emo tional intensity of the anxious months. And now it was all a thing of the past. Some of the boys would return; others would come back only in spirit. No wonder tears mingled with smiles on the faces of men and women to-day! Down one side of the avenue she went, almost to Madison Square, then walked uptown on the east side of the avenue. Not far behind her strolled David DeLaine, although she did not sus pect his proximity. She had told him to go where he pleased. She was allowing him an abundance of time to see what he wished, then return to the car and await her coming. The boisterous throng increased in volume. At Fiftieth street De siree was almost turned around by the mass of humanity flowing up and down town. Pressing onward, she found herself in front of St. Patrick's Cathedral. Many people were passing through the wide open doors. She followed their ex ample. David Prays The darkened and quiet interior was in sharp contrast to the noisy avenue. Here the sounds of horns and shouts came as from a distance and served to accentuate the solem nity of the place. The sanctuary lamp glowed like a watchful eye down the great aisle. Treading softly, men and women crept in and knelt. Desiree Leigh ton passed up the aisle and fell on her knees, her face buried in her hands. She was trying to put into words the prayer that surged up from her heart, but all she could whisper was: "Oh Lord, it's over! it's over!" She did not know that her chauf feur was kneeling near her saying the same words with a different meaning. For weeks there had lurked in David DeLaine's heart the hope that he might yet get back to France to help bring about the great finish Now it had come without his being there. "I was not even fighting when I got my wound," he mused, gloom ily. "I was only driving an am bulance. That was something, to be sure—but I wanted to keep at it. If the war had lasted I would have been able to go back—l am sure I would." Then there came to his mind the thought of what a continuation of the war would have meant to the thousands of men, women and chil dren all over the world. And silent ly he pleaded for pardon that he had put his own longing before anything else. A prayer without words rose from his heart—a prayer of thanks giving that the hideous carnage had ceased. What did his personal regrets mean but that he had been an un grateful selfish beast. And he prayed for forgiveness. As he rose from his knees he saw Desiree. There was a light on her face that made him catch his breath. He knew that she had been weeping yet there was a moved smile on her lips. To the man she looked beauti ful. A Little Comradeship Impulsively and unconscious of what he was doing, he held out his hand to her. Without an instant's hesitation she put her hand into his. "I've been thanking God," she whispered. "I know by your face that you have been doing the same." "Yes," he said, softly, "I have— and asking pardon because I was not more thankful." She regarded him anxiously. "Not thankful?" she repeated. "Why Smith, what do you mean?" I am thankful now," he assured her. "Only at first I wished it had lasted a little longer—-so that I could go back and get in it. But please, if you do not mind, do not let us talk about it! I know I was quite wrong." "I understand," she said quickly "You wished you could go back. I am so sorry for you!" Then, as she met his eyes, she flushed deeply and drew her hand BULRRISBtrRG TELEGRXPH from his grasp. She had scarcely been aware that he was still hold ing it. She had forgotten that this man was her chauffeur —not her friend. "We must be getting home," she said in a practical tone. "Mr. Eeighton may be worrying about me." As they reached her car, a news boy hurried by, calling an extra. Smith repeated his words to Dc siree. "lie says the armistice is not signed after all," he said incredul ously. The glow faded from the girl's face. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "That must be a mistake." "Of course it is," he assured her. "If its not signed now, it will be very soon." "If it is not signed, they are still fighting," Desiree said, adding passionately—"l do not feel as if I could bear that!" (To Rc Continued.) Little Talks by Beatrice Fairfax Have you a little Apache in your home and are you pained and grieved that no one loves it? And if you own this child Apache, please do not make the situation worse by saying the sulks, uprisings and general unmannerliness are due to little Algernon's not being very well, or because little Clarisse is so sensi tive and high-strung that she must not be judged by the same standards as other children. . This does not exonerate the in fant Apache, it only lands you in that droll classification the neigh borhood wag insists on calling: "Wild mothers I have known." And you may be sure that what ever adverse fate overtakes your spoiled darlings in after life, i,t is you that will be held strictly ac countable and not the eccentrici ties of the child's genius, which very probably he has not got after all. So when Clarisse succeeds in focusing the attention of the en tire room on herself, by reason of her ill behavior, don't discuss her unmannerliness as if it were the abstraction of a Newton, or the punctuality of a Kant. It does not seem that way to the company; you may prove this by studying the sickly smiles—if they happen to be ladies. While the Male Bird may sometimes cough violently or dash into an adjacent room on imaginary errands, or do other semi-violent things to relieve his fury. For the child Apache doing a war-dance, making faces, show ing off or otherwise being insuf ferably conspicuous is an object that only a mother can love. The Gentle Art of Pleasing I have often wondered why a mother who spends hours embroi dering scallops on her little daugh ter's flannel petticoat should utterly neglect to instruct her in the art of good manners. No one can be so stupid as not to realize that the greatest asset anyone can possess is that of being able to produce an agreeable impression. Money, brains, accomplishments, even the family claims of an arch duchess or a Colonial Dame pale before the simple charm of an agreeable personality. And yet mothers —fond, devoted mothers, too —withhold the secret of this talis man from their children. They will sew. scrimp and save to make a selfish' girl look better, while nothing on earth could make her look better but having the grouch in her disposition pulled, or her ingrowing selfishness eradicated. One can understand how parents who have had no advantages what ever themselves, may turn out hoodlum children lacking in the most rudimental elements of good breeding loose on the community: but when men and women who are gently bred themselves permit their children to trample on the comfort and peace of everyone who is unfor tunate enough to come within their range, the mystery is inexplicable. Rlindncss of Devotion The answer is, of course, the titter blindness of parental devotion. Some parents indeed appear to take a secret pride in the unruliness of their nffsp'-ing and tell stories of how Mr. X and Airs. Y no longer come to the house on account of the behavior of the children. Arnold Bennett in his collection of social studies of this country men tions this peculiarity of American juveniles. He speaks of the half pained children who sit under tables and listen to themselves being dis cussed. while their parents beg them to come out and speak to the com pany. I remember one evening during the course of a call coming upon one of these table stow-a-ways. As we were shown into the living room "little Cathleen" made a dash for the table. I supno'-ed at first the vio lent heaving of this piece of furni ture was due to spirit communica tions. but no, the fond mother as sured us it was "little Cathleen," who was ro shy, sensitive and gen- erally exquisite that she could not bear to meet strangers. Table Rooked I,lke a Ship During the call mother entreated "little Cathleen" to come out and shake hands, but there was no re ply from the sensitive one only more heaving on the part of the table. Conversation was restric ted entirely to the sensitiveness of this little girl; meanwhile the table, laboring like a ship in a storm told that the subject of discussion was not unconscious of her impor tance. Finally a man present literally tore from the doting mother the topic of "little Cathleen," and be gan to talk of something rational. This was too much for the sensi tive recluse: she could not stand the absence of the spot light for a moment. We noticed an apparent earthquake under the table, and she made a dash for the door. My impression of her was that she was about nine feet high. I afterward learned that "little Cathleen" whom I had supposed to be two or three years old, was really thirteen. I have always taken a firm stand against corporal punishment for children, but there was a flickering moment when "little Cathleen" al most won me over to the side of the slipper. All children can he taught to speak courteously; it is not al ways easy to take the time to do this, but it can be done, and it is so much more necessary than scal lops on their flannel petticoat 3, birthday parties, moving picture treats and even the revered dancing school itself. For a boy may get through life without learning how to dance the one-step, but he won't get Through life if he has bad manners—unless he has a million or two, and then they will pass for eccentricity. SACREI) HARMONY "There may be union sacree, or sacred harmony, in the Reichstag," said Senator Vardaman, "but when a minority Socialist talks to a Panger man, or when a Catholic Centrist talks to a Conservative, the dialogue reminds me of Mrs. Spink. "Mrs. Spitrk was ushered into a friend's house for an afternoon call by Jane, and, as she stood in the hall, a voice called softly down front somewhere above: ," 'Jane, if that's Mrs. Spink I'm not at home.' " 'lt is Mrs. Spink,' the caller shouted, 'and she's mighty glad to hear it."—Detroit Free Press. DAILY HINT ON FASHIONS A PRETTY GOWN FOR MANY OCCASIONS 2892. This is an excellent model for figured and plain voile, for or gandie and foulard, crepe de chine or georgette and satin. Other com binations of material are also de sirable. Net and chiffon would make this a very attractive dance frock. The Pattern is cut in 3 Sizes: 16, 18 and 20 years. Size 18 requires 6V4 yards of 44 inch material. The skirt measures about 1 V 4 yard at its lower edge. A pattern of this illustration mailed to any address on receipt of 10 cent in silver or stamps. Telegraph Pattern Department Fcir the 10 cents inclosed please send pattern to the following address: Size Pattern No Name Address City and State Life's Problems ! Are Discussed By MRS. WILSON WOODROW Dr. Robert Burton, the author of j the famous "Anatomy of Melan-1 choly," writing in his commonplace ; book or diary away back in 1620, j lei's of a patient who came to him j to be treated for a distemper. "Hear you his case," says the I Doctor. "My fine sir is a lover, a i Romeo, a Pyramus. He walks seven ! years ' disconsolate, moping, be cause ho cannot wed his miss. The J: man is mad; delirat; he dotes. All this while his Glycera is rude, spite- I ful, not to be entreated. She is | churlish, spits at him. In conclu- i sion, she is wedded to his rival. "The lover travels, goes into for- I eign ports, perigrinates; sees j manners, customs not English; con-I verses with lying travelers, monks, | hermits, cattle peddlers, Egyptians, i satyrs, semi-viri, apes, monkeys, | baboons, artificial curiosities, the' Pyramids, the tomb of Virgil. By j j the time he has finished his course i seven other years have expired, and j he taketh ship for home, only to find j that he is disenthralled, manumitted. "He wonders what so bewitched him when he sees his former mis tress, who is now a widow with children. He can have her for the asking; but no such thing. His mind is changed. He had liever eat ratsbane, aconite. His humor is to die a bachelor. "In this temper of celibacy seven more years are consumed in idle ness, sloth, world's pleasures which satiate and induce weariness. When, upon a day, behold a wonder! Love returns. The man is as sick as ever, walks with his hand in his bosom, : TF YOU are a Motorman you've I j ■ A got to have strength and energy kli- | * 00 both physically and nervously. You use up a lot of it every trip. i . wf> _ _ IL Da^h Nature thought of you when she j 1 Iffxl IBK put so much that is good for you i 1 fE\lf|l|l liig"^l^^ into the whole wheat grain, and j Itfjsl | Kelloggs give it to you in Krumbles. I WH EAT I Krumblds is all wheat—kernel and bran- llfcu? 1 ! 11l n cAnV TO EAT I cooked, shredded, and toasted, ready to eat j R ■ Our "Waxtite" package saves all the aroma I bib,. I T u|S sI&N£ ruRE 1 and flavor and the splendidly healthful qual- k 1 T HA> - 1 j I ities of Krumbles for you, just as Krumbles' .Hlj. 1 A * 1. / All 'I comes fresh from our great ovens. Sbh I I ifL /K vj t)l/K CfC&CI/ J Tell your grocer you want Kellogg's Shredded A' * Krumbles—the only Krumbles made ! | \^ [ I Krumbles is made in the same kitchens aa w 1 rniOGOW®'*^^^^Veuni Kellogg's Toasted Corn Flakes j R I KELLOGG TOASTED CORN FLAKES CO. Batik Creak, Michigan AUGUST 2, 1919. moping, with his breath wheezy and | asthmatic from overmuch sighingr All this while the widow is forward, coming, ready to jump into his mout.h But her he hatetli; thinks her ugly, old—Jezabel, Alecto and Tlsiphone all in one. "That which drives him mad, dis- I traded, beside himself is something I which is not, and can never be— | the image of his mistress as she was and as he thought her in for |mer times. It is this which tor i ments and frets him. "This Caprichto then cometh to me to be cured. I counsel marri age with the lady, together with milk diet, herbs, aloes and wild parsley, good in such cases. He flies out in a passion, ho, ho! and falls to calling me names—dizard, ass, lunatic, moper, bedlamite. I smile in his face bidding him be patient, tranquil; but to no purpose. He still rages until he burseth a bloodvessel. "Yet is there nothing strange in this," observes the Doctor. "In the dog days men are commonly af flicted with such vapors arising from the overheating of the blood." And these are the dog days! "Thar or tharabouts;" for I never yet know anybody who could tell me just exactly when that luridly-named season commences or how long it lasts. It is supposed to be the sul try period of July and August, when the dog star, Sirius, is coincident with the rising of the sun; but the usual rule is to apply the term to any continuous stretch of hot weather between Independence and Labor days. According to the old-fashioned idea, it was a - season when dogs were more apt to go mad, and this impression istill persists, although science has definitely shown that rabies is as much a disease of win ter as of summer. Nevertheless, it is beyond ques tion a barking, biting, snappy, I scrappy time, with the surly crab and the rampant lion ascendant in 7 the Zodiac, and lines of influence extending from them—as is por trayed in that graphic picture in the front of the almanacs—directly to the liver and the spleen of matt. On these accounts it is a good time to Keep cool and to attend strictly to one's own knitting. We are all on edge, unwilling to be touched either mentally or phys ically, and bristling up like a paw cupine the moment any one does so. Even the wisest advice, as Doctor Burton found, is not well received when the temperature stands at eighty in the shade. Arguments, especially family dis cussions, should be laid away like the flannels and the furs in cam phor until the return of cooler days. Chaffing and teasing, too, particularly if the victim is sensi. tive or thin-skinned, should be rigidly taboo. Jiemember, also, that is is the so-called "Silly Season." Like Dr. Burton's patient sighing over the vanished maiden of his youth, we are all prone in the summertime to give way to exaggerated and extravagant whims and notions. Sometimes these sweep multitudes of people like an epidemic. But criticism or ridicule only serves to Irritate and often to aggravate the symptoms. Politics, religion, personal corn ment and "pieces of one's mind," like unripe or overripe fruit and heavy food, are good things to avoid so long as Sirius is on the job. BRUISES-CUTS \ Cleanse thoroughly— reduce inflammation by cold wet comprae- /SwC let —apply lightly, without fajWK friction— J.£j VICE'S VAPORUSIIII •YOUR BODYGUARD"-30f. 60MT25-
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