Readii\cj all ike fareviKj [JPPj|
" When a Girl "
Br ANN LISLE
A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorbing
Problem of a Girl Wife
CHAPTER CCCXV
Copyright, 1919, King Feature Syn
dicate, Inc.
When we sauntered into Val's liv
ing room at the end of a sumptuous
dinner X almost had to pinch my
self to convince myself that it was
all real.
Val and Lane had two * titer
guests besides us. They had been
Introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Pettin
gtll, a name which fitted them well
enough. But all through dinner
"Uivle Ned" and "Aunt Mollie," and
once or twice I had pulled myself
up on the verge of addressing them
in the same informal way. They
seemed like old friends to me. But
never did two people seem more in
congruous than they as Uncle and
AuntJ of exotic, creamy-voiced, pro
vocate Val.
Uncle Ned —to give him the title
that just seemed to fit—is a tall,
rangy, gray-haired man with big
hands and big feet that shuffle a
bit in congress gaiters when he
walks. He wore a formal frock coat
of the sort Henry Clay affected over
half a century ago, a "boiled shirt"
with a low collar under it, a ready
made bow tie and a sweeping white
mustache that seemed part of his
costume. He kept stroking it with
knotted, veined old hands guiltless
of acquaintance with any manicure,
past or present.
At first glance Uncle Ned seemed
like a caricature of a Civil War
veteran. But his rugged shoulders,
his clear skin and, above all, the
keenest, bluest eyes I've ever seen
make him a personality. He
breathes power and ruggedness, and
he has an air of being accustomed
to have people listen when his
drawling voice rolls out with its
slow air of finality.
Aunt Mollie is a dear little old
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SATURDAY EVENING.
I lady, with apple cheeks, little
brown beads for eyes, and thick,
I gray hair, parted in the middle and
| crowning her head in neat braids,
j Her figure is scant across the chest
and rolled out a bit under her waist
of brown shot silk. She wore a
| round collar of tatting, a large pink
; cameo to fasten it and a black vel
! vet ribbon clasp in amethysts on
j each of her round, pretty white
| wrists.
| Severe gold-rimmed spectacles
I that would slide down from her lit
j tie fine nose as she worked, and a
I bag from which she kept dropping
the gray wool she was knitting into
j socks even at dinner, completed mv
i inventory of the dearest little old
| lady I'd ever seen.
Val seemed to adore the old
| couple, and they treated her as if
i she were the apple of their eye. And
i yet they were precisely of the sort of
j people whom I would have imagined
I holding up their hands in puritani
j ctal horror at Yal's bizarre costumes
| and exotic manner. But she and
| they were clearly on a basis of com-
I plete understanding and affection
i almost more complete.
I couldn't make it out. What
] under the sun could this amazing
j old pair see in Val Cosby? Didn't
j they disapprove of her? They are
I clearly home folks from her part
jof the country. Don't they know
! the story of the way Val lured Lane
j from his poor crazy first wife.
| Loretta?
j A question from Aunt Mollie
| promised an answer to one of mine
| ere long.
"Mrs. Harrison," said she, "our
| Val tells me that you ain't from a
j big city, either. It's wonderful how
! you two girls have got on to city
i ways. You got here first, though.
Are you real careful what folks
you let oiur Val meet?"
The little apple-cheeked old lady
was peering at me intently, shrewd
ily over her glasses. And out of the
i tail of my eye I could see her hus
| band watching her with admiring
j approval as he sat tilted back in a
I Sheraton chair, smoking with an
i accustomed air the sort of cigar
j which come wrapped in silver foil
I and doesn't come less than two for
a dollar.
"Vail knows all the people I do
j now, Mrs. Pettingill. Probably
j you'll meet them if you stay here
• for a rea! visit. Then you can see
I for yourself. I've an idea you're
I an excellent judge of human nature,
j Mrs. Pettingill,' I said, with what I
] hoped was tact, for I found myself
J wanting this little old lady to like
me.
"Mercy, child, call me Aunt Mol
! lie! You're our Val's friend, and
that makes us feel kinda kin." she
| said briskly, turning the heel in
j tently, and then resuming the
I thread of our conversation. "Well,
j now, I met one friend—or rather
j acquaintance —of Val's I didn't
think was such great shakes. Is
! she a lady friend of yours, too,
; Miss Mason, Miss Evelyn Mason by
name?"
"She's no friend of mine," I re
| plied, and the words burst out more
j emphatically than I realized until
I they were spoken.
"I knew it!" said Uncle Ned, ris
i ing and coming over to shake my
hand as if he had decided that I
was worth knowing. Then he
turned to the little old wife with
courtly dignity. "May I speak my
piece, Ma?"
"Go on, Neddie," she smiled, look
ing up from the stocking heel to
flash htm a glance of hffection and
understanding that was like a bene
diction.
"I take it we're all friends," he
said, and the compelling glance of
his keen eyes would probably have
Bringing Up Father •Copyright, 1918, International News Service Bg Mc
rVE COME TO TO *EE~~ OH'. DttSTN AND I t^°° T OF F I OH: NO -WE TO=bEO YOU [, J Kl^l ,
| ~ T ( WON '' '•* LQ
made a traitor get up and slink from
the room. "Well, Mollie and me
met up with this Mason woman
when we were vacationing at that
swell resort —Atlantic City. And !
she kinda taking to some of the
folks we was with, put up with the
old gent and his bride, too.
"And one day, conversational-like
when she finds where we come from,
and where we are heading to, she
starts on our Val. All she could
twist and turn# she balls up. And I
had to set her straight. Maybe I
wasn't none too gentle. And, finally,
my bride over there she calls the
turn just right. Tell 'em what you
said. Mollie."
" 'Twas Ned's idea," protested
Aunt Mollie gently. "We figgered
out that this woman didn't under
stand our Val —never would. So we
just thought that seein' as how
we've known and loved our Val a
number of years we'd come to where
she lives and put anyone that
doesn't understand her. on the
right path. And at the same time
we thought we'd find out a leetle
more about this Mason woman.
That kind's easy to muzzle when
you get 'em worked up for fear
you'll kind of reveal the ways of
their minds to folks."
At this point, Val spoke. And
now the cream of her voice had
deepened and had the thrill of sim
ple devotion. Everything about her
revealed a primitive, unspoiled
woman such as I had never
glimpsed—even when I saw her at
her best.
"Anne, have you listened to
them?" she cried. "Have you heard
the two truest friends in the world
telling their ideas of service?
They're going to leave the ranch
they adore and camp here In none of
the cities that stifles them, so as to
make sure that a malicious woman
doesn't hurt Lane and me. What
am I going to do to be worthy of
such love?"
"What are you going to do?" I
found myself repeating, wondering
as I spoke what Val had already
done to earn such devotion.
(To Be Continued.)
IN THESE DRY TIMES?
"What do you mean by saying
that the prisoner struck you amid
ship?"
"Well, you see, Judge, I had just
had one schooner and was reaching
for another when he hit me."—
From the Houston Post.
DAILY HINT ON
FASHIONS
A SIMPLE. STYLISH FROCK
2754—Soft crepe, crepe de chine,
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for this style. The dress may be
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The Pattern is cut in 4 sizes: 14,
16, 18 and 20 years. Size 18 re
quires 4 5-8 yards of 36 inch ma
terial. Width of skirt at lower edge,
is about 1 5-8 yards.
A pattern of this illustration
mailed to any address on receipt of
10 cents in silver or stamps.
Telegraph Pattern Department
For the 10 cents Inclosed please
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address:
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Name ...,
Address
City and State I
_
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XDCmUSBtTRO Ciflßk TEtEGfCJCPH
THE LOVE GAMBLER
By Virginia Terhune Van de Water
CHAPTER LJX |
Copyright, 1919, Star Company.
During the two days following
the events just recorded, Desiree
Leighton avoided seeing David
Smith.
The first day, Wednesday, she did
her errands on foot. She had
spoken a brief negative to her
father's question as to whether she
would need the car or not.
"I need exercise," she said. "I
shall walk instead of riding." The
next morning dawned raw and
cloudy. That in itself gave her an
excuse for remaining indoors. But
she must face Smith this evening,
for he was to drive her to a dance
she must attend. She felt much
embarrassment at again meeting
the man to whom she had sent the
unexplained telegram. She made a
timid suggestion to her father.
"It seems hardly necessary to
have the limousine out just for me
this evening. Dad. I can go to the
Burnhams' dance in a taxi."
"Why?" the parent demanded.
"Because," she tried to explain,
"it seems rather selfish for me to
keep Smith and the car out the en
tire evening, doesn't it?"
"No more selfish than it has al
ways been," her father smiled teas
ingly. "That is what a car is for,
my dear —to use when needed.
Smith will come to take you to the
Burnhams' then go back for you at
any hour you name."
"Then make it 12 o'clock prompt
ly, please—if you will kindly give
the order," she said.
"You are planning to come home
rather early considering that the
affair is a big dance, are you not?"
Samuel Leighton demurred.
"X am feeling a bit tired," she ad
mitted.
"It's all right if you are coming
back #arly by preference. But I
will not have you humoring a
chauffeur and cutting your fun
short so as not to keep him up
late. That would be absolutely
ridiculous."
Desiree said no more, but a slow
flush crept to her face.
She wished she need not see the
chauffeur for a while. She also
i wished that she dared ask her
father if he had made any investi
gations about Smith. If so, he had
j not taken her into his confidence.
A Vague Anxiety.
Samuel Leighton, as was his cus
tom, escorted his daughter down
the steps to the waiting car that
night. The chauflleur touched his
hat politely in response to De
siree's murmured "Good evening!"
"Wouldn't you like me to accom
pany Smith when he returns for
you?" Leighton asked as he saw
Desiree comfortably seated.
He had a vague sensation of anx
iety about her and wished that she
had been in the habit of having her
maid go with her to evening func
tions. She was paler than usual,
and her eyes looked very wide and
dark.
"Why, dad," she smiled, "what
an idea! I shall be all right."
"Yes, I am sure Smith will see
that you get there and back safely,"
the parent said loudly enough for
the driver to hear.
Leighton wondered as he re
turned to his warm library if he
was trusting this fellow too much.
He hoped that Jefferson would be
back In New York by to-morrow,
1
Daily Dot Puzzle
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25. 1 25
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Draw from one to two and so on |
to the end.
so tliat he could question him as!
to what he knew of the man who!
called himself David Smith.
A doorman at the Burnhams'
home assisted Desiree from her car,
so she had no occasion to speak to
her chauffeur.
When, three hours later, she
came down the steps of the house,
young Burnham himself came with
her and saw her safely inside her
limousine.
"You are leaving us shamefully
early. Miss Leighton," he remarked
reproachfully. "It is only the
shank of the evening."
"Perhaps It Is, and I have had a
delightful time," she rejoined. "But
I have heen feeling a little tired
lately, and I really ought to be
getting home and make up for lost
sleep. I do not usually tire so
easily as I do now. Good-night!"
She gave David Smith
no order. Of course he knew where
to drive, and she did not want to
speak to him if she could avoid it.
She had a foolish shrinking from
doing so.
As the car started uptown she
leaned back with a sigh of weari
ness.
What ailed her, she wondered.
Only a few weeks ago this dance
would have been a source of genu
ine joy to her. Yet now that the
war was over and all conditions
much happier than they had been
for the past four years, she had
been conscious of a sense of vague
depression and a desire to be alone.
Unruly Thoughts.
For, do what she might, her
thoughts would turn to the man
who was her father's chauffeur.
She suspected that he was In
danger and that she could not help
him. It was for this reason she
had urged him to stay In New York
a little longer, for she knew that
his sudden departure would confirm
her father in his doubts of him.
Yet how conscientiously her pa
rent was striving to be fair and to
give the matter of the missing pen
dant fair judgment.
And, she reflected with a twinge
of compunction, what a good father
he was to her.
He was always doing something
for her pleasure. Only this even
ing he had brought home to her
a handsome leather automobile
pocket of a new make, to take the
place of the old and shabby one
that now hung on the rugrail oppo
site her.
She hoped she had shown him
how grateful she was. She remem
bered that she had kissed him and
thanked him. She had also said
that she would have Smith attach
the gift to the rail that evening—
then had forgotten all about It.
Well, she would take the old
pocket Into the house with her
now. That would prove to her
father that, at least, she remem
bered his gift to her and meant to
use it.
(To Be Continued.)
AMERICAN GIRUS WHO
WEDDED TITLES 'BROKE'
Cable dispatches from Berlin te
port that several of the former
richest American herlresses who
married German, Austrian and Hun
garian noblemen are "dead broke,"
and for the first time in their lives
able to understand the pinch of
poverty.
Most of them may soon return to
America to cast aside titles, bo
known by good American names,
or do anything else that may
required of them to get a little
ready cash from their estates.
They will be permitted. It is un
derstood, to repatriate themselves,
taking with them to America their
Impecunious princes, counts and
whatnot, at % least some of whom are
said to be willing to discard the title
and become plain "Mister" by na
turalization, thus recovering for
their wives the wealth held by the
alien property custodian.
The Countess Laszle Szecheny, for
merly Gladys Vanderbilt, and the
Countess Anton Sigray, formerly
Harriet Daly, of Butte, sister-in-law
of Ambassador Gerard, are living
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modestly in Switzerland and are
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The Countess Colloredo Manns
field, who was the beautiful Nora
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gone into trade and to like it.
The Princess Braganza, formerly
Anita Stewart, of New York, is in
Switzerland watting for relief.
Other widely known Americans
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ill I me^C " lC
SEPTEMBER 20, 1919.
who married titles are living In
small colonies on borrowed money,
among them are mentioned the
Princess Isenburg-Birstern, remem
bered as Bertha Emma Lewis, New
Orleans; Uie Countess Manfred
Matusclika, formerly Ella Walker,
of Detroit, and the beautiful Nancy
Irishman, of Pittsburgh, who mar
ried Duke Karl, of Croy.—New York
World.
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING
"Miss Lily, this is the silly sea
son."
"True, but If you are going to
offer yourself In marriage, I call that
carrying a joke too far."—Courier-
Journal.
5