THE FULTON COUNTY NEWS, McCONNELLSBURG, PA.
EM
Sr GEORGE DM McCUTCHEON
ILLUSTRATIONS jjFAY WALTERS
8YNOPSI3.
In the New York home, of J.nnr Prnnd.
bnwiii and liiKKD, Ilia two old pensioners
and comruUt-.s, await ttie cuuiiuii of
Drnoil's son, Fri'ikrlc, to li-urn the con
temn of a wtrelrxs from Llruoii. but Fred
eric, after fiutliiK, throws It into the
fire and leaves the room without a word.
Krederlo tells Lydia Desmond, his tlunt'i-a,
that Ilia mt'ssuKe announces his father's
marriage, and orders the house pioi'iitvd
fur an linmrdiulu honi"-i-oinlng. Mrs.
Iftsmond, the housekeeper and Lyillii's
mother, trie to cool ! rederle's temper
at the Impcndlni; rliauKes, HnwJ and Ills
bride arrives. She wins Kraderh 's liklnx i
llrst nieelin. Ilrood hhons dislike and
veiled lioHlllity to Ills son. l.ydlu and Mrs.
Urood moot In the Judo room, where I.ydU
srorks as Rrood's seurei;irv. The room,
domlnalud by a Kreat gold Huddliu, Is fur
nished In oriental inuguilli em e. Mrs.
ilrood, after a talk Willi l.)dm. which
leaves the latter puzzled. Is startled by
the appearance of Kanjab. Hrood's Hin
du servant. Mrs. Hrood makes chants
In the household and gains tier liushancl's
roroM-ut to send Mrs. Lesmond and Lydia
awav. She tries to fathom the mystery
of (rood's separation from his first wife,
snd his dislike of his son, but fulls. Mrs.
Ilrood faselnates Frederic. She begins to
fear Itanjab In his uncanny appearances
and disappearances, and Frederic, remem
bering his father's East Indian storks un.J
linn belief In magic, fears unknown evil.
Itanjab perforins fe.ns of magic for
Dawes and ltigus. Frederic's father. Jcul
us, unjustly orders his son from the
dinner table as drunk. Yvonne follows
Frederic to the. Jade-room anil. Influences
him to apologize to his faUier and the
Kuesla for his alleged lapse. Ilrood tells
ihe story of Hunjiib's lite to his guests.
"He. killed ft woman" who was unfaithful
to him. Yvonne plays with Frederic's
infatuation for her. tier liUBtmnd warns
tier that the thing must not go on.
CHAPTER IX Continued.
"It sounds rather ominous."
"If ho waits long enough you may
discover that you love him and his go-
ing would give you Infinite pain. Then
is the time for him to go."
"Good heavens!" he cried. In aston
bthment. "What a remarkable notion
of the fitness "
"That will be his rlinnce to repay
you for all that you have done for him,
James," said she, as calm as a May
morning.
"By Jove, you are a puzzle to me!"
be exclaimed, and a ftno moisture
came out on bis forehead.
"Let the boy alone, James," she
went oa earnestly. "He is "
"See here, Yvonne," he broke in
sternly, "that is a matter we can't dis
cuss. You do not understand, and I
onnnot explain certain things to you. I
came here just now to ask you to be
fair to hi in, even though I may not ap
pear to be. You are "
"That is also a matter we cannot
discuss," said she calmly.
"But it is a thing we are going to
discuss. Just the fame," said be. "Sit
down, my dear, and listen to what 1
bave to say. Sit down!"
For a moment she faced him defiant
ly. He was no longer angry, and there
in lay the strength that opposed her.
She could bave held her own with
him If be bad maintained the angry at
titude that marked the beginning of
their interview. As it was, her eyes
fell after a brief struggle agalrmt the
dominant power in his, and she
obeyed, but not without a significant
tribute to bis superiority in the shape
of an Indignant shrug.
He took one of ber hands In his, and
stroked It gently, even patiently. "1
will come straight to the point. Fred
eric Is falling In love with you. Wait!
I do not blame him. lie cannot help
himself. No more could I, for that
matter, and he has youth, which is a
spur that I have lost. I have watched
him, Yvonne. He Is to put it cold
' bloodedly losing his head. Leaving
me out of the question altogether if
you chooBe, do you think you are
quite fair to blm? I am not disturbed
on your account or my own, but well,
can't you see what a cruel position we
are likely to find ourselves "
"Just a moment, James," she Inter
rupted, sitting up very straight In the
chair and meeting bis gaze steadfast
ly. "Will you spare me the conjectures
and come straight to the point, as you
have said."
He turned a shade paler. "Well," he
began deliberately, "it comes to this,
my dear: One or the other of you will
save to leave my bouse if this thing
gona on."
Sha shot a glance of incredulity at
his set face. Her body became rigid.
"You would serve me as you served
his real mother, more than twenty
years ago?"
"The cases are not parallel," said he,
wincing.
"Tou drove her out of your house,
James."
"I have said that we cannot dis
cuss "
"Hut 1 choose to discuss it," she
said firmly. "The truth, please. You
drove her out?"
"She made her bed, Yvonne," said
be huskily.
'Till she leave you cheerfully, glad
ly, as I would go If I loved another, or
did she plead with you oh, I know it
lurts! Did she plead with you to give
ber a chance to explain? Did she?"
"She was on her knees to me," he
grated, the veins standing out on his
temples.
Yvonne arose. She stood over him
like an accusing angel.
"And to this day, James Brood to
this very hour, you are not certain
that you did right In casting her off!"
"I tell you, I was certain I was sure
of "
DRIVEN TO THE LAST DITCH
Just One More Visitor and Mrs. Mink
ler Would Have Served Her
"Pie-Pudding."
"That's the third time," observed
Mrs Millsap. who was visiting country
relatives, "that I've heard reference
madatto 'Mrs. Minkler! pie-pudding.'
nd It usually brings out a laugh If
there's any Joke about It, I'd like to
hear It"
"Well. I'll tell you the story," said
SWH
"Then why do you still love her?"
"Are you mad?" he gasped. "Good
God, womun, how can you ask that
question of me, knowing that I love
you with all my heart and soul?
How "
"With all your heart, yes! But with
your soul? No! That other woman
has your soul. I have heard your soul
speak and It speaks of her yes, to
her! Night after night, In your sleep,
James Brood, you bave cried out to
'Matilde.' You have sobbed out your
love for her, as you have been doing
for twenty years or more. In your
sleep, ynir soul has been with her.
With me at your side, you have cried
to 'Matilde!' You have passed your
band over my face and murmured 'Ma
tilde!' Not once have you uttered the
word 'Yvonne!' And now, you come
to me and say: 'We will come straight
to the point!' Well, now you may come
straight to the point. But do not for
get, in blaming me, that you love an
other woman!"
He was petrified. Not a drop of
blood remained In his face.
"It is some horrible, ghastly delu
sion. It cannot be true. Her name has
not passed my lips in twenty years. It
Is not mentioned In my presence. I
bave not uttered that woman's name
M
"Then how should I know her name?
Her own son does not know It, I firm
ly believe. No one appears to know it
except the mun who says he despises
it."
"Dreams Dreams!" he cried scorn
fully. "Shall I be held responsible for
the unthinkable things that happen in
dreams?"
"No," she replied significantly; "you
should not be held accountable. She
must be held accountable. You drove
out her body, James, but not her
spirit. It stands beside you every In
stant of the day and night. By day
you do not see her, by night ah, you
tremble! Well, she is dead, they say.
If she were still alive, I myself might
tremble, and with cause."
"Before God, I love you, Yvonne. I
Implore you to think nothing of my
maundtrlngs In my sleep. They they
may come from a disordered brain.
God knows, there was a time when I
felt that I was mad, raving mad. These
dreams are "
To his surprise, she laid her hand
gently on his arm.
"I pity you sometimes, James. My
heart aches for you. You are a man
a strong, brave man, and yet you
shrink and cringe when a voice whis-
Of the Three, Lydia Alone Faced the
Situation With Courage.
pers to you in the night You sleep
with your doubts awake. I am Ma
tilde, not Yvonne, to you. I am the
flesh on which that starved love of
yours feeds; I represent the memory
of all that you have lost."
"This is madness!" he exclaimed,
and It was not only wonder that filled
his eyes. There was a strange fear in
them too.
"I am quite myself, James," she said
coolly. "Can'you deny that you think
of her when you hold me In your
arms; can you "
"Yes!" he almost shouted. "I can
and do deny!"
"Then you are lying to yourself, my
husband," she Bald quietly. He fairly
gasped.
"Good God, what manner of woman
are you?" he cried hoarsely. "A Bor
cercss? A but no, it is not true!"
She smiled. "All women are sor
ceresses. They feel. Men only thitk.
Poor Frederic! You try to hate him,
James, but I have watched you when
you were not aware. You search his
face Intently, almost in agony for
what? For the look that was his
mother's for the expression you loved
In"
He burst out violently. "No! By
heaven, you are wrong there, my sor
ceress! I am not looking for Matilde
In Frederic's face."
one of the cousins. "Mrs. Minkler told
it herself, so It won't do any harm to
pass It on Perhaps you've observed
that we speak of the ple-puddlng when
we have to divide up something into
unusually small portions; and pos
sibly, since you are not acquainted
with Mrs. Minkler, the Joke may uot
strike you Just as it did us. But bere
It is:
"Mrs. Minkler does the cooking for
her family of four, and as she isn't In
love with the science of cookery, it s
very little In the way of extras the
MB
"For his father, then?" she Inquired
slowly.
The perspiration stood out on his
brow. He made no response. His lips
were compressed.
"You have uttered her name at last,"
she said wonderingly, after a long
wait
Brood started. "I I Oh, this Is
torture!"
"We must mend our ways, James. It
may please you to know that I shall
overlook your mental faithlessness to
me. You may go on loving Matilde.
She Is dead. I am alive. I have the
better of her, there, al e? The day
will come when she Is dead In every
sense of the word. In the meantime,
I am content to enjoy life. Frederic
Is quite safe with me, James; safer
than he is with you. And now let us
have peace. Will you ring for tea?"
He sat down abruptly, staring at her
with heavy eyes. She waited for a mo
ment, and then crossed over to pull
the old-fashioned bell-ccrd.
"We will ask Lydia and Frederic to
Join us, too," she said. "It shall be a
family party, the five of us."
"Five?" he muttered.
"Yes' she said, without a smile.
"Are you forgetting Matilde?"
CHAPTER X.
Of a Music-Master.
A month passed. Yvonne held the
destiny of three persons in ber band.
They were like figures on a chess
hoard and she moved them with the
surencss, the unerring Instinct of any
skilled disciple of the philosopher's
game. They were puppets; she
ranged them about her stage in swift
changing pictures and applauded her
own effectiveness. Thero were no re
hearsals. The play was going oa all
the time, whether tragedy, comedy or
chess.
Of the three, Lydia alone faced the
situation with courage. She was young,
she was good, she was Inexperienced,
but she saw what was going on be
neath the surface with a clarity of
vision that would have surprised an
older and more practiced person; and,
seeing, was favored with tho strength
to endure pain that otherwise would
have ben uusupportable. She knew
that Frederic was Infatuated. She did
not try to hide the truth from herself.
The boy she loved was slipping away
from her and only chance could set his
feet back in the old path from which
he blindly strayed. Her woman's
heart told her that it was not love he
felt for Yvonne. The strange mentor
that guides her sex out of the Igno
rance of youth into an understanding
of hitherto unpresented questions re
vealed to her the nature of his feeling
for this woman. He would come back
to her in time she knew, chastened;
the same instinct that revealed his
frailties to her also defended his sense
of honor. The unthinkable could never
happen!
She Judged Yvonne too in a spirit of
fairness that was amazing when one
considers the lack of perspective that
must have been hers to contend with.
Lydia could not think of ber as evil,
unmoral, base. This beautiful, warm
hearted, clear-eyed woman suggested
nothing of the kind to her. It pleased
her to play with the good-looking
young fellow, and she made no pre
tense of secrecy about it. Lydia was
charitable to tho extent of blaming her
only for an utter lack of conscience In
allowing the perfectly obvious to hap
pen so far as he was concerned. Fur
her own gratification she was calmly
Inviting a tragedy which was likely to
crush him without even so much as
disturbing her peace of mind for an in
stant, after all was said and done.
There was poison In the cup she hand
ed out to him, and knowing this be
yond dispute she allowed him to drink
while she looked on and smiled. Lydia
hated her for the pain Bhe was storing
up for Frederic, far more than she
hated her for the anguish she, herself,
was made to endure.
Her mother saw the suffering In the
girl's eyes, but saw also the proud
spirit that would have resented sym
pathy from one even so close as she.
Down In the heart of that quiet re
served mother smoldered a hatred for
Yvonne Brood that would have
stopped at nothing had it been in her
power to Inflict punishment for the
wrong thnt was being done. She too
saw tragedy ahead, but ber vision was
broader than Lydia's. It included the
figure of James Brood.
Lydia worked steadily, almost dog
gedly at the task she had undertaken
to complete for the elder Brood. Every
afternoon found her seated at the table
In the study, opposite the stern-faced
man who labored with her over the
seemingly endless story of his life.
Something told her that there were
secret chapters which she was not to
write. She wrote those that were to
endure; the others were to die with
him.
He watched her as she wrote, and
his eyes were ofter. t,i-d. He saw the
growing haggardness in her gentle,
girlish face; the wistful, ruzzled ex
pression In her dark eyes. A note of
tenderness crept Into his voice and re
mained there through all the hours
they spent together. The old-time
brusqueness disappeared from his
speech; the sharp authoritative tone
was gone. He watched her with pity
In his heart, for he knew It was or
dained thnt one day be too was to hurt
this loyal pure-hearted creature ?ven
as the others were wounding her now.
He frequently went out of his way
to perform quaint little acts of cour
tesy and kindness that would have
surprised him only a short time be
fore. He sent theater and opera tickets
to Lydia and her mother. He placed
bouquets of flowers at the girl's end of
the table, obviously for her alone. He
sent her home Just around the corner
family gets. Mrs. Minkler says she
considers 'apple sass and molasses'
a good enough dessert for anyone.
"Well, one day, for a special treat,
she baked a pie for dinner, allowing a
quarter apiece for each member of the
family. But while she was preparing
dinner ber sister-in-law looked Into the
kitchen and announced that two
cousins had come over from Rushvllle
to spend the day
"'Shucks!' said Mrs. Minkler. 'Now
I'll have to cut the pie into six pieces.
"A half bour later, two neighbors,
In tho automobile on rainy or bll
zardy days. But he never allowed her
an instant's rest when it came to the
work in hand, and therein lay the gen
tle shrewdness of the man. She was
better off busy. There were times
when he studied the face of Lydia's
mother for signs that might show bow
her thoughts ran in relation to the
conditions that were confronting all of
them. But more often he searched the
features of the boy wbo called blm
father.
Always1, always there was music In
the house. Behind the closed doors
of the distant study, James Brood lis
tened In spite of himself to the per
slstent thrumming of the piano down
stairs. Always were the airs light and
seductive; the dreamy, plaintive com
positions of Strauss, Zlehrer and oth
ers of their kind and place. Frederic,
with uncanny fidelity to the prefer
ences of the mother he had never seen
but whose influence directed him, af
fected the same general class of music
that had appealed to her moods and
temperament Times there were, and
often, when he played the very airs
that she had loved, and then, despite
his profound antipathy, James Brood's
thoughts leaped back a quarter of a
century and fixed themselves on love
sccnes and love-times that would not
be denied.
And again there were the wild, riot
ous airs that she bad played with Fev
erelli, her soft-eyed music master! Ac
cursed airs accursed and accusing!
lie gave orders that these airs were
not to be played, but failed to make
his command convincing for the rea
son that he could not bring himself to
the point of explaining why they were
distasteful to blm. When Frederic
thoughtlessly whistled or hummed
fragments of those proscribed airs, be
considered himself Justified in com
manding bim to stop on the pretext
that they were disturbing, but he could
not use tbe same excuse for checking
the song on tbe Hps of his gay and Im
pulsive wife. Sometimes he wondered
why she persisted when she knew that
he was annoyed. Her airy little apolo
gies for her forgetfulness were of no
consequence, for within the bour her
memory was almost sure to be at fault
again.
Is there anything wrong with my
hair, Mr. Brood?" asked Lydia, with a
nervous little laugh.
They were in tbe study and it waB
ten o'clock of a wet night In April. Of
late, he bad required her to spend the
evenings with him in a strenuous ef
fort to complete the final chapters of
the Journal. He had declared his In
tention to go abroad with his wife as
soon as the manuscript was completed.
Lydia's willingness to devote the extra
hours to his enterprise would have
pleased him vastly if he had not been
afflicted by the same sense of unrest
and uneasiness that made Incessant
labor a boon to her as well as to him.
Her query followed a long period of
silence on his part He had been sug
gesting alterations In ber notes as she
read them to him, and there were fre
quent lulls when she made the changes
as directed. Without looking at him,
Bhe felt rather than knew that be was
regarding her fixedly from his position
opposite. The scrutiny was disturb
ing to her.
Brood started guiltily. "Your hair?"
he exclaimed. "Ob, I see. You women
always feel that something Is wrong
with it. I was thinking of something
else, however. Forgive my stupidity.
We can't afford to waste time In think
ing, you know, and I am a pretty bad
offender. It's nearly half-past ten.
We've been hard at It since eight
o'clock. Time to knock off. I will
walk around to your apartment with
you, my dear. It looks like an all
night rain."
He went up to the window and
polled the curtains aside. Her eyes
followed him.
He was staring down into the court,
his fingers grasping the curtains In a
rigid grip. He did not reply. There
was a light In the windows opening
out upon Yvonne's balcony.
"I fancy Frederic has come In from
the concert," he said slowly. "He will
take you home, Lydia. You'd like that
better, eh?"
He turned toward her and she
paused In the nervous- collecting of her
papers. His eyes were as hard as steel,
his lips were Bet.
"Please don't ask Frederic to" she
began hurriedly.
"They must have left early," he
muttered, glancing at his watch. Re
turn ing to the table he struck the big,
melodious gong a couple of sharp
blows. For the first time In ber recol
lection, It sounded a Jangling, discord
ant note, as of Impatience. Ranjab ap
peared in the doorway. "Have Mrs.
Brood and Mr. Frederic returned, Ran
jab?" "Yes, sahib. At ten o'clock."
"If Mr. Frederic Is In his room send
him to me."
"He is not in his room, sahib."
The two, master and man, looked at
each other steadily for a moment.
Something passed between' them.
"Tell him that Miss Desmond Is
ready to go home."
"Yes, sahib." The curtain fell
"I prefer to go home alone, Mr.
Brood," eald Lydia, her eyes Bashing.
"Why did you send"
"And why not?" he demanded harsh
ly. She winced and be was at once
Borry. "Forgive me. Jt am tired and
a bit nervous. And you too are tired.
You've been working too steadily at
this miserable Job, my dear child
Thank heaven, It will soon be over.
Pray sit down. Frederic will soon be
here,
"I am not tired," she protested stub
bornly. "I love the work. You don't
know how proud I shall be when it
Judge and Mrs. Peters called, and Mr.
Minkler asked them to stay for din
ner, to which they agreed.
"'Mercy sakes!' grumbled Mrs
Minkler. 'Now I'll have to cut the pie
Into eight pieces.'
"Just as dinner was being dished up,
who should drop In but an old bachelor
friend of tbe family from the other
side of town, and he also accepted an
Invitation to take dinner
" 'Amanda Jane,' declared the exas
perated Mrs. Minkler to her sister-in-law,
'I'll make out to cut that pesky
comes out and and I realize that I
helped in Its making. No one bas ever
been In a position to tell the story of
Thibet as you have told It, Mr. Brood.
Those chapters will make history. I"
"Your poor father's share in those
explorations is what really makes the
work valuable, my dear. Without his
notes and letters I should have been
feeble indeed." He looked at bis
watch. "They were at the concert, you
know the Hungarian orchestra. A re
cont importation. Tziganes music.
Gypsies." His sentences as well as
bis thoughts were staccato, discon
nected. Lydia turned very cold. 8he dread
ed the scene that now seemed unavoid
able. Frederic would come in response
to his father's command, and then
Someone began to play upon the
piano downstairs. She knew and he
knew that it was Frederic who played.
For a long time they listened. The
air, no doubt, was one be had heard
during the evening, a soft sensuous
waltz that Bhe had never heard before.
The girl's eyes were upon Brood's
face. It was like a graven limine. '
"God!" fell from his still lips. Sud
denly he turned upon the girl. "Do
you know what he Is playing?"
"No," she said, scarcely above a
whisper.
"It was played in this bouse by Its
composer before Frederic was born. It
was played here on tbe night of his
birth, as It had been played many
times before. It was written by a man
named Feverelll. Have you heard of
him?"
"Never," she murmured, nnd shrank,
frightened by the deathlike pallor in
the man's face, by tbe Btrange calm in
Confronted the Serene Image of
Buddha.
his voice. The gates were being
opened at last! She saw the thing
that was to stalk forth. She would
have closed her ears against the reve
lations it carried. "Mother will be
worried if I am net at homo " '
"Guldo Feverelll. An Italian born In
Hungary. Budapest, that was his
home, but be professed to be a gypsy.
Yes, he wroto tbe devilish thing. He
played It a thousand times In that
room down and now Frederic plays
It after all these years. It Is his
heritage. God, how I hate the thing!
Ranjab! Where is the fellow? He
must stop the accursed thing. He "
"Mr. Brood! Mr. Brood!" cried
Lydia, appalled. Sho began to edge
toward the door.
By a mighty effort. Brood regained
control of himself. He sank into a
chair, motioning for her to remain.
The music had ceased abruptly.
"He will be bere In a moment," said
Brood. "Don't go."
, Suddenly he arose and confronted
the serene Image of the Buddha. For
a full minute he stood there with his
hands clasped, his Hps moving as if
In prayer. No sound came from them.
The girl remained transfixed, power
less to move. Not until be turned to
ward her and spoke was the spell
broken. Then she came quickly to his
side. He had pronounced her name.
"You are about to tell me some
thing, Mr. Brood," she cried In great
agitation. "I do not care to listen. I
feel that it Is something I should not
know. Please let me go now. I"
. He laid his hands upon her shoul
ders, holding ber off at arm's length,
"I am very fond of you, Lydia. I do
not want to hurt you. Sooner would I
have my tongue cut out than It should
wound you by a single word. And yet
I must speak. You love Frederic Is
not that true?"
She returned his gaze unwavering
ly. Her face was very white.
"Yes, Mr. Brood."
"It Is better that we should talk It
over. We have ten minutes. No doubt
he has told you that he loves you. He
is a lovable boy, he Is the kind one
must love. But It Is hot In his power
to love nobly. He loves lightly as "
he hesitated, and then went on harshly
"as his father before him loved."
Anger dulled her understanding;
she did not grasp the full meaning of
his declaration. Her honest heart rose
to the defense of Frederic.
"Mr. Brood, 1 do care for Frederic,''
she flamed, standing very erect before
him. "He loves me. I know he does.
You have no right to say that he loves
lightly, Ignobly. You do uot know blm
as I know him. You have never tried
to know him, never wanted to know
him. You Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr.
Brood. 1 I am forgetting myself."
"I am afraid you do not understand
yourself, Lydia," sa d he levelly. "You
pie Into nine pieces, but I tell you
now It won't stand any more cutting
than that. If a single other person
comes bere to dinner today, I'll squash
the pie up, dish It round with sass on
It and call It a pudding.' "Youth's
Companion.
The Dardanelles.
The Dardanelles takes Its name from
Dardanus, who was supposed to have
founded tbe lost city of that name near
that other and far more famous lost
city, ancient Troy. It Is from one to
are young, you are trusting. Your lea !
son will cost you a great deal, my
dear."
"You are nilstakeu. I do understand
myself," she said gravely. "May 1
speak plainly, Mr. Brood V
"Certainly. I intend to speak plain
ly to you."
"Frederic loves me. He does not
love Yvonne. He is fascinated, as I
also am fascinated by ber, and you
too, Mr. Brood. The spell has fallen
over all of us. Let me go on, please,
You say that Frederic loves like his
father before him. That is true. He
loves but one woman. You love but
one woman, and she is dead. You will
always love her. Frederic is like you.
He loves Yvonne as you do oh, I
know It hurts! She cast her spell over
you, why not over him? Is he stronger
than you? Is It strange that she
should attract blm as she attracted
you? You glory In her beauty, ber
cbarm, her perfect loveliness, and yet
you love yes love, Mr. Brood tht
woman who was Fredelc's mother. Do
I make-my meaning plain? Well, so it
Is that Frederic loves me. I am con
tent to' w ait. I know he loveB me."
Through all this, Brood stared at
her In sheer astonishment He bad no
feeling of anger, no resentment, nc
thought of protost.
"You you astound me, Lydia. Ii
this your own impression or has ii
been suggested to you by by an
other?" "I am only agreeing with you when
you say that ho loves us his father
loved before him but not lightly. Ah.
not lightly, Mr. Brood."
"You don't know what you are say
ing," he muttered.
"Oh, yes, I do," she cried earnestly.
"You invite my opinion; I trust you
will accept it for what it is worth: Be
fore you utter another word against
Frederic, let me remind you that 1
have known both of you for a long,
long time. In all the years I have
been In this house, I have never known
you to grant blm a tender, loving
word. My heart has ached for him.
There have been times when I almost
bated you. He feels your neglect,
your harshness, your your cruelty
He"
"Cruelty!"
"It Is nothing less. You do not like
him. I cannot understand why you
should treat him as you do. He shrinks
from you. Is It right, Mr. Brood, that
a son should shrink from bis father as
a dog cringes at tho voice of an un
kind master? I might be uble to un
derstand your attitude toward him If
your unklndne8s was of recent origin,
but"
"Recent origin?" he demanded
quickly.
"If It had begun with the advent of
Mrs. Brood," she explained frankly,
undismayed by his scowl. "I do not
understand nil that has gone before. Is
It surprising, Mr. Brood, that your
son finds 11 difficult to love you? Do
you deserve "
Brood stopped her with a gesture of
his hand.
"Tho time hns come for frankness
on my part. You set me an example;,
Lydia. You have the courage of your
father. For months I have had It In
my mind to tell you tho truth about
Frederic, but my courage has always
failed me. Perhaps I use the wrong
word. It mny be something very un
like cowardice that has held me back.
I am going to put a direct question to
you first of all, and I ajk you to an
swer truthfully. Would you say that
Frederic Is like that Is, resembles his
father?" He was leaning forward, his
manner intense.
Lydia was surprised. "What an, odd
thing to say I Of courso he resembles
his father. I have never seen a por
trait of his mother, but"
"You mean that he looks like me?"
demanded Brood.
"When he Is angry he Is very much
like you, Mr. Brood. I have often won
dered why he Is unlike you at other
times. Now I know. He Is like his
mother. She must have been lovely,
gentle, patient "
"Wait! Suppose I were to tell you
that Frederic Is not my son."
"I should not' believe you, Mr.
Brood," she replied flatly. "What is It
that you are trying to say to me?"
"Will you understand If I say to you
that Frederic Is not my son?"
Her eyes filled with horror. "How
can you say such a thing, Mr. Brood?
He is your son. How can you say"
"His father was the man who wrote
the accursed waits be has Just been
playing!- Could thero bo anything
more devilish than the conviction It
inrrles? After all these years, he"
"Stop, Mr. Brood!"
"I am sorry If 1 hurt you, Lydia. You
have hsked me why I bate him. Need
I say anything more?"
"I do not believe all that you have
told me. Ho Is your son. He Is, Mr.
Brood."
"I would to God I could bolleve
that," he cried, In a voice of agony. "I
would to God it were true."
"You could believe It if you chose to
believe your own eyes, your own
heart." She lowered her voice to a
half-whisper. "Does does Frederic
know? Does he know that his mother
Oh, I can't believe It!"
"He does not know."
"And you did drive her out of this
house?" Brood did not answer, "You
sent her away and nnd kept her boy,
the. boy who was nothing to you?
Nothing!"
"I kept him," he said, with a queer
smile on his lips,
"All these years? He never knew
his mother?"
"He has never heard her name
spoken."
"And she?"
"I only know that she Is dead. She
never saw him after after that day."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
five miles wide, 'the most romantic
part of tbe passage being only a mile
wldo between Sestos In Europe ana
Abydos in Asia, where "Leander swam
the Hellespont his Hero for to see,"
in the time of the larEcly mythical
war of the Greeks and Trojans to
luitbiattu by tumor 1 lie ihu of
Leander had for long years been pro
nounced impossible, but Lord Byron,
rhyming voluminously of all this re
gion of song, In 1810, swam the Helle
spont, club-footed as bo was, from
Sestos to Abydos. '
nrrnn oiirrrnii
finer, ounxmn
TWO LONG YEAR
Mrs. Aselin Was Restored J
Health by Lydia E. Pink,
ham's Vegetable
Compound.
Minneapolis, Minn. "After my UtJ
Ono was born I was sick with pains A
my sides Which ft,!
doctors said werJ
cuused by InflamnJ
tioru I suffered J
great deal everjj
month and grew vrrjl
thin. I was under U4
doctor's care for tc
long years wltlioct
any benefit Finaiy
oiif r repeated s.
gestions to try it t
trot Lvi!Ia E. I'hi
ham's Vegetable Compound. After tat.
Ing the third bottle of the Compound
was able to do my housework and todaj
I am strong and healthy again. I wi.
answer letters if anyone wishes to knov
about my case. "Mrs. Joseph Aselo,
COS Fourth Avenue, Minneapolis, Minn,
Lydia E. rinkham'a Vegetablo Con.
pound, made from nntiva roots !
herbs, contains no narcotics or barmfdl
drugs, and today holds the record i
being the most successful remedy t-
know for woman's ills. If you need audi
medicine why don t yoa try it T
If yon have tho MlRhtest donktl
that Lydia I Flnkham'a Vegeta
ble Compound will holp you, writ
to Lydia K.Pinkham IttedlelneCo.
(confidential) Lynn.Mass., for ad.
rice. Your letter will be opened,
read and answered by a woman,
end held In strict confidence
LADIES!!
USE GILBERT'S
JEWEL
TAITITM Pf.Wr.FD
Die Tsicum of Quality, for rflnt i
pple, IVrtunio rich, lasting, and el- i
quiMUj; rowiier 01 Velvety UueDass.
tn CtsM Jars 1 Sc. and 2 Sc.
Buld bf all dealers.
HADE DV
GILBERT BROS, CO.
BALTIMORE, MD
Thsfinti-llsury League
exposes the evils, the oppressions, the tram!
and tlio sin of usury or interest. Usuren
i t bolijly combining to resist giverunieol
cuntr I. V.ikc up, patriotic men ami woiuei
II Ip in. tot enrollment or linlcr niroirxi
lion I'd.lrrM lilt AVII-liSUr lift' If,
J.C.EUIOIT, SILVin SPUIMj, MXUHAM
ft i ntnnti !.. t u hs, I
Raws muonabla, Uisbotircluiuicua. Jhvisu'W I
is?(
An engagement, ring is a jjiri s Kisyi
of a round of pleasure. 14
NOTMINO HO FI'FFrriVr AH KltXri
KVlll-K lor Vnl'irln. I la J vrr.
Chief t Pollei, J. W. rti-ynulU. Newrwl
News, Vs., any: It Im a pleamira u rerninmeirf
IIHlteH tori lillliaii'l tvver. 11 ti ve ti ne.l 11 wli
nt-4-eHsjir.v fnrtii'yeiirHHn.l have fotiml noreinW;
an etfwttVe." KM Ir Bin lrU f-iieentn. n II ilror
(rlsta, or liv Pareel lot, prepaid. fi"iu K)ucac
kl A Co., Wiisliirnrt.m, I). 0.
A i.oud Move Itabek Liver P lis.
CO pills X can
Pretty Blue.
Saplee What Is this Blue Bird
we hear so much about?
Snaplclyh Tho Dove of Peace.
Judge.
A Tale Often Told.
"Socltty Is Just now allllcted witk
a new spm lea of bore."
"Still another?"
"It's the young woman who totli
everybody she meets how the war Ii
Europe prevented her from flalshlaj
her musical education."
Accounting for Tastes.
Baron I see expert French buttsf
tasters claim they can perceive tbi
flavor of the soil over which cattli
feed.
Egbert Must bave sort of a tasti
of shrapnel now.
Enjoying Life In Trenches.
A soldier writes back: "Life Is tit
trenches Is fairly enjoyable If yoi
know how to appreciate IL"
Yes, indeed; Iifo ts worth while
anywhere, if you make the boat of It.
The trenches offer peculiar opportuni
ties for enjoying life. Living froa
minute to minute Is Intense, conseioui
living, replete with satisfaction. I
ery minute is as precious us though
it was going to be tbe last. And tba
values of contrast heighten the zeit
for breathing. Jyst to be alive Is keen
Joy in the trenches, surpassed onlj
by the Joy of living remote from the
trenches.
'F1W0 OUT
The Kind of Food that will Keep You
Well.
The true way la to find out what ii
best to cat and drink, and then culti
vate a taste for thoso things Instead
of poisoning ourselves with Improper,
indigestible food, etc.
A conservative Mass. woman writes:
"1 have UBed Crape-Nuts 5 years fof
the young and fur the aged; in sii'i'
ness and In health; at first followisi
directions carefully, later In a varictf
of ways us my taste and Judgmeut
suggested.
"Hut its most special, personal ben
efit has been as a substitute for meat,
and served dry with. cream when rheu
matic troubles made It Important fo'
me to change diet
I'Servod in this way with the addi
tion of a cup of hot Postum and a llttl
fruit it bas been used at my mornlr.l
meal for six months, during wb'c
time my health has much Improved,
nerves have grown steadier, and
gradual decrease In ' my excesslvi
weight adds greatly to my comfort."
Name given by Postum Co., Balf
Creek. Mich. Bead "The Road to Wel
vllle," li pkgs. "There's a Reason."
Rn res 4 lh ahnrs letlerf A JJ
anpeara from dm lm.
re a-ranlae, Ira, fall mt
Interest.
fc3
lo I
lir.
A