The Handsome Man by Margaret Turnbull Illustrations by - Irwin Myers Copyright by Margaret Turnbull, W. N. U. Service. THE STORY Returning to London, practi- cally penniless, after an unsuc- cessful business trip, Sir George SBandison takes dinner with his widowed stepmother, his old nurse, “Aggy.” He did not ap- prove of her marriage to his fa- ther, but her explanation satis- fles him, Little is left of the estate, and Lady Sandison pro- poses that they go to the United States to visit her brother, Rob- ert MacBeth, wealthy contractor. Sir George agrees. MacBeth lives on an island estate with his daughter, Roberta, who longs for city life. MacBeth is a vic- tim of arthritis and almost help less. MacBeth is glad to see his i sister and asks the two to stay. Roberta is keeping a date with Jack Navarro, about whom she knows little. MacBeth arranges for his sister to take charge of the household and George to act as secretary. CHAPTER III—Continued — i ! “You're a wonder, Aggy,” declared her brother, looking at the toast. “I've been offering Sir George the post of ‘secretary, private sécretary, a sort of {Haison officer between me, in my crip- pled state here, and my New York office. I have a secretary there, but want him at the office. I need a [man who can go to the city and get things done for me and at the same time take a look outside at the various Jobs, and come here and give me an lidea as to whether my plans are being carried out or not.” Lady Sandison looked at him and nodded approval. “You have done well to take Sir George here. Have a bit of toast, Rob, and let me put jam en it. It will set you up. And to think you two have planned it out all yourselves, without any help!” She looked at them both admiringly. Sir George returned the look warily. He knew his Aggy of old, but her brother smiled broadly. It was warm- ing to him to find how much he liked Aggy again. Despite her handicaps— poverty, her lack of family—had she not contrived to marry a baronet! Robert, MacBeth might think that titles meant nothing to him, but Aggy’'s title and Sir George's presence in his house ‘were a source of pride. “While we're sipping our tea,” said Lady Sandison, comfortably aware that Sir George was admiring her, “you'll maybe be able to tell me, Rob, (where Sir Geordie will bide, and how late does your daughter generally stay cut. when. there’s dinner to get and none to get it?” Robert MacBeth looked worried. “She ought to be home. We quarreled, of course, this morning, but I hardly thought she'd leave me alone so long.” “Something by-ordinar’s detained her,” declared Aggy. Ever since she had glimpsed Roberta this morning, ghe had had her mind made up about that young lady, but she was not tell- ing Roberta's father. “Don’t put yourself out, Rob. She's no run away. She’ll be home soon.” “Oh, do you think so, Aggy? You're a great comfort,” then he turned to Bir George. “I'd like you to stay here, Sir George, if it suits you. It will be best for me, and there's plenty of room.” Sir George, looking like an embar- rassed Apollo, thanked him. He was thinking rapidly that never had his luck been greater than now that Aggy had taken the helm, ! %“Afore your daughter gets back,” resumed Aggy, watching first one then the other, but evidently satisfied in her own mind that they were all get- iting along nicely, “are we to use our titles here, or put them by, as you might say, until we go home again?” Robert MacBeth looked puzzled. He had forgotten that Roberta knew noth- ing about this aunt, except that she was a poor and obstinate Scotch woman, who foolishly refused the money he had offered. How would she take this new element he was in- troducing into his home? Would Roberta see her aunt's real worth or only her odd ways and clothes and queer modes of expression? “If I could only keep it from her,” muttered Robert MacBeth, “I might try it as an experiment.” “I wouldn't,” declared Sir George quickly. “It's hardly fair. If we're to be in the house, she should know all ‘about us, I think, sir.” “It would be a grand lesson to her if we kept it from her,” declared her Aunt Aggy. “Roberta isn’t that kind,” retorted her father indignantly. “She's not a snob. She’s just a naughty child.” Sir George put up his hand for silence and rose, but before he could speak the door was flung open. “Hello, Dad!” Roberta called. “What's happened? No lights in the garage. No sign of Willy. No one in the kitchen. Where are the maids?” “They went away with Willy, as soon as your back was turned,” her father told her. “Didn't you expect it?” “I did not.” The flippant Roberta’s eyes rested for just a moment on the conspicuously handsome young man ‘who happened to be standing near her father’s chair. She bent over her father and said in a voice that though low, reached Sir George: “What's Phoebus Apollo, or is it Adonis, doing here?” @- Then before her father could pre- vent her, she turned to Sir George. “It isn’t, of course, included in the regular duties of a butler but still in an emergency—if you would put my car in the garage for me—" Lady Sandison took a quick step forward, but Sir George was before her. “Delighted to be of use,” he said, and crossed the room toward the door. “Glad you take pleasure in your work,” Roberta called in low velvety voice that played havoc with most men, halting him as he reached the door. “In this place you will find it includes a little of everything, out- doors and indoors, but we pay well, Have you arranged the terms, Father?” “My dear,” said Robert MacBeth quietly, wondering what effect this “Did You Bring the Braw Lad Over to Marry American Dollars, Aunty?” would have on the girl, “this gentle- man is my private secretary and his salary will hardly interest you.” “Private secretary!” repeated Rob- erta, the blood mounting to her cheeks. She looked at the receding back of the man whom she had so cavalierly set to work. “Well, I can apologize later, if necessary.” She looked from the tray to Lady Sandison. “Is that the best you can do?” Quickly Robert MacBeth spoke, with an appealing look at Aggy. “This is my sister, your Aunt Aggy, and she has kindly consented to help us out. Since you so strongly object to the difficulties of housekeeping, I've installed her as housekeeper.” “Aunt—Aunt Aggy!” Roberta, who had been free all her life from the encumbrance of relatives, stared at this aunt who had come from across the seas unbidden, unannounced, “How do you do, my dear?’ said Lady Sandison, and she stepped forward. Roberta drew back a little, her eyes sparkling angrily. She gave her fa- ther, who had outwitted her in the first move of their difficult game, a quick glance before she could control her voice sufficiently to say, pleasantly: “How do you do, Aunt? This is a great surprise.” “To me, too,” Robert MacReth said smoothly watching his daughter, “and a very welcome surprise to both of us, Aggy.” “We'll talk about that later,” de- clared his sister, regarding her niece with great friendliness. “If you'll step into the kitchen with me, my dear, we'll maybe can get some kind of meal together, and tomorrow there'll be a cook and maids here. Your father said you expected them to- morrow.” “I—I'd rather help the secretary find his way about the garage,” said Roberta airily, and turned to go. The plump capable hand of Lady Sandison fell lightly, but compellingly on her niece’s shoulder. “No need. Sir George can always find his way about.” “Sir George! Sir George—who?” “Sir George Alan Edward Sandison,” said her aunt smoothly, as she blocked her niece's way of escape, and gently steered her kitchenward. “Is it not wonderful that your father should draw into his service such a grand young man?” Roberta looked at her warily. “What's your last name?’ she asked. “Sandison.” “He doesn’t look a bit Aunt—Aunt Aggy.” like you, “Indeed, no! How could he? I'm only his stepmother. He's the living image of my late husband, Sir Stephen | Sandison of Sandisbrae.” The title | lost nothing from Lady Sandison's an- nouncement. Her niece stood spellbound in the doorway looking at her. This dumpy little woman, whom she had thought must be cook-housekeeper, who was indeed the housekeeper now by her father’s authority, what did she mean by reeling off titles like that? “Who are you?” “Your father’s sister,” said Aggy with quiet composure, “and also Lady Sandison.” Roberta looked from her aunt to her father. Her father nodded. Without a word Roberta took the tray and went out of the room. “I've taken the first trick,” declared Robert MacBeth, sinking back among the pillows. Aggy looked at him, closed her lips, nodded, and went towards the kitchen, As the door between the kitchen and the hall closed, Roberta turned questioningly to her aunt. Lady Sandison smiled at her, “Rob’s my brother and your father so we'll no quarrel, but we'll not be tyrannized over neither.” “Let's get this straight,” Roberta said. “Aré you on my side or father’s?” “Both, and if you'll follow my ad- vice you'll give in to him. Humor him and he’s yours, and surely Rob's very easy to humor. You made a mis- take in managing him today. You told him what you were going to do before you did it.” Roberta turned on her angrily. She was not to be so easily managed. “If you take my place here, you take my place without any aid of mine.” Her aunt surveyed her calmly. war is it?” Roberta nodded. “Well the sooner that’s understood the better. We'll just get the supper. Show me where the potatoes are, Roberta, and keep a civil tongue in your head. You're playing right into Rob’s hands and mine.” Roberta considered herself a match for any woman. She fired her first shot, “Did you bring the braw lad over to marry American dollars, Aunty?’ She asked it in her most honeyed tone. “And did you have me in your mind at the time?” Slowly her aunt counted potatoes and began to wash them at the sink. “I thought I was taking a risk bringing my bonnie lad over here, but I said to myself, at least Roberta would have her head screwed on, and would know enough to stand aside and give him his chance at some fine, rich girl. I gave you credit for the wit to see that though American dollars might be handy for Sandisbrae, al- most any other girl would have a bet- ter chance than the daughter of Rob MacBeth. Your father was a joiner and builder on the estate, and his father before him.” Roberta looked at her speechless, so angry that she dared not open her mouth. “Aye, the money might better come from pills or pork or groceries. The gentry would swallow it and a stranger in Sandisbrae easier than they would Rob's daughter.” “Leave me out of flamed. “Don’t you moment, Ji" “So far from it,” her aunt declared vigorously, “that I'm just fair upset to see that you share the fatal weakness of the MacBeth family.” “What's that?’ snapped Roberta, noting with surprise the professional manner in which Lady Sandison pared the potatoes. “They're jist slaves to beauty, the whole clanjamfray of them,” declared her aunt solemnly, “and you're as bad as the rest. Watch what you're doing, lass! You're haggling that loaf something awful.” “This .isn't Scotland where there's hard scrabbling to get bread—and a man,” Roberta told her with scorn. “Why there are heaps of good-looking men over here. Your Little Beauty isn’t in danger.” “So you say,” said her aunt. “Time will tell. It’s as well, Roberta, not to boast until you've tried out your strength.” “Fudge! I'm not reduced to poor Scots my father has to find jobs for.” She disregarded the sudden warning look her aunt gave her, and continued, emphasizing her point with the bread knife. “He's good-looking enough to make some girls lose their heads but I'm my father’s daughter to this ex- tent that the man who tries to make an impression on me will have to have something more than an angel face, “It's it,” think Roberta for a big eyes, pretty hair and stand six feet—" “Six feet three!” From the door- way Sir George gravely corrected her. “Your senfiments are mine, Miss MacBeth. Let's stick to them.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) CES CEOS Mementoes of Famous Scotchman in Museum James Watt, the famous mechan- ician, inventor and civil engigeer, was born at Greenock, Scotland, in 1736, and died in Birmingham, England in 1819. It is not generally known that the contents of his garret workshop are in the Science museum at South Kensington. The garret was used by Watt in his house in Birmingham, and was shut up for thirty years aft- er his death. Various descriptions of the opening of the garret, in 1853, are given in a pamphlet issued by the museum. Samuel Smiles, who was one of the party, recorded that “The ashes of the last fire were in the grate, the last bit of coal was in the scuttle. . . . Many objects lay about or in the drawers, indicating the pursuits which had been inter- rupted by death. . ., ..On the shelves are minerals and chemicals in pots and jars, on which the dust of nearly half a century has settled. The moist substances have long since dried up, the putty has been turned to stone and the paste to dust. On the shelf we came across a dish in which lies a bunch of withered grapes.” Unable to Use Trunks Baby elephants are unable to use their trunks in feeding themselves and require considerable time before learning to use them as their parents | do, THE PATTON COURIER Small H it and Berets Poon : Lavish Use of Lace New Trend DODO VVVOI9OODPODDDIVOVVPOOE OOD PAGANO PHOTOS I THE fabric hat, design and fabric. In the little softly draped turbans and berets . so often made of the self-same material of the . frock, coat or blouse with which it ‘is to be worn, unlimited opportunity is given to the designer to create headwear which shall not only sound a harmonious note in the costume ensemble, but it will be made to accomplish that which is even more to be coveted—tune to the type of the individual in matter of “lines” and detail. The hats pictured make individual- ity their feature. They are just such types, being snug-fitting, as cuddle down into luxuriously furred coats with becoming grace. Admirably tuned to the black-and- white costume, which is so widely ex- ploited this winter, is the extremely smart wrapped turban .shown cen- tered to the right in this picture. This model which interworks black velvet with white velvet was worn with a black velvet suit, the blouse being of white satin. To the left-center in the group Prin- cess Rospigliosi, one of the titled women who have come to this country to create models which are suited to the temperamental needs of the American woman, is shown wearing a velvet beret designed and executed in her own studio, from her own original sketch. A tiny velvet bow is its only decoration. The first model at the top is a two- tone velvet beret and scarf, in brown and oeige, hand-embroidered with ~» BEGUILING FROCK women so covet for their most becom- small dots—smart for debutante or college girl to be worn with tweeds. Another interesting turban type is pictured to the right. This is of brown velvet and is molded to the head in almost sculptural lines, con- trasted by the one-side drape which departs from the conventional. The shirred turban is in keeping with the romantic fashions which have found their way into the modern pic- ture. This model of black velvet is Juliet eap. A natural- comes softly over the the contour of the hair- known as the colored ostric face, following line. Frocks of Lovely Lace. One of the significant fashion trends of the times is the contin- ued lavish use of lace both for day- time and for evening modes. That costume designers are yielding so wholeheartedly to the persuasion of lovely lace is only another link in more than any other, there is every opportunity to achieve indi- viduality. For this very reason, if for no other, the hat fashioned of cleverly manipulated ma- terial is a genera) favorite this season. Then, too, the call of the mode is for the ensemble costume, and the reaction of this is that more women are. calling upon their” milliners to create. for them headwear “to match” or at least to show some relation in matter of color, gone alluringly feminine this season. with lace as their central theme. summate art are releasing it via ap- cretion in DPDPDPVDOVVPOP® SOME LATE HATS the chain of evidence that styles have From the beginning of fashion his- tory, the most romantic chapters, those which have portrayed woman at her loveliest, have been written And so designers are recapturing all the enchantment of lace, and with con- parel so beguiling as to cause the whole style world to yield to its lure. The fact that designers have come to the conclusion that by using dis- its handling lace can be brought into the daytime picture with as assured good taste as into the eve- ning scene of utmost formality, great- ly increases its vogue. In selecting a dress for afternoon wear, one that car- ries just the right degree of formality, a frock that makes you look your prettiest and most alluringly feminine, there's no wiser choice than lace. Naturally. black is always first in mind, and if it is made up as seduc- tively as the charming frock pictured, it is sure to prove flattering. This effective model plays up the smart- ness of simplicity when achieved through subtle styling. It has that airy, fairy, filmy way about it which ing frocks. The short sleeves answer to the call of semiformal modes such as tune in so successfully not only to afternoon affairs, but stand ever ready to solve the “what-to-wear” problem during the after-five-o'clock dine-and-dance events. lace fashions which are on the formal evening program baffle description. Not only are their colorings most delectable but they are adorablly styled always with the thought in mind to accent all of ro- mance and the picturesque that fancy suggests. Designers, in creating the ultra-formal gown of lace, are espe- cially featuring unique and fascinating necklines. Flowing draperios, cgpes of exquisite grace which veil the shoul- ders, and very low-cut decolletage play an artful role in lace styling. CHERIE NICHOLAS. (©). 1930 Western Newspaper Unfos.) The ravishing OOP BOODOEH HLH VWYTOVOOTOOOV0O00IIO0TIV Her Henna Rinse Was a Washout Los Angeles, Calif.—All sorts of things happened after Ardys Crawford got a henna rinse. Her hair turned gray, changed to purple, became white and » finally dropped out, the movie actress charged in a $29,685 damage suit filed in Superior court against Moyris Poland and Barnett Rosenthal, proprietors of a Hollywood beauty shop. PN o POVOOOOE bia ZRadhl DOOOOOOOSS Oo © ® Po DODO PN ob. & Po © © 2 BOLT RUINS HOME; SPARES OCCUPANTS Interior Wrecked; Women and Canary Unhurt. Mays Landing, N. J.—A single bolt of lightning, playing freakishly about the home of Mrs. Minnie Wielandt of Richland, near here, at 1 a. m, wrecked the interior of the house in a few seconds, leaving more than $2,000 damage in its wake, but hurting no one. The bolt struck the roof with a great roar, awakening Mrs. Wielandt and her three grown daughters, Min- nie, Helen and Margaret, who were asleep on the second floor. A wall of one of the bedrooms of the five-room bungalow was ignited, but this fire was soon put out. A survey of the house revealed many strange sights. Two lightning reds on the house showed no sign of having received the powerful electric charge. The south wall of the house was moved about an inch on the founda- tion. dalf a dozen windows were smashed and clapboards were torn from the walls. Window boxes were thrown to the ground. A radio was reduced to kindling wood after being thrown halfway across the living room. A metal bird cage was unfastened from its brass stand and left a mass of twisted wire on the floor, with the canary alive | and unharmed inside. Helen's wrist watch, on a bureau three feet from her bed, at 1 a. m, and the works ruined. The glass doors of a china closet were smashed and chinaware broken and strewn about the dining room, Chairs in the kitchen were upset. A pipeles heater in the cellar was damaged and the motor of an electric pump was burned out. Across the lawn about the house the lightning ripped a furrow a yard wide and thirty feet long. Guard Goes for Coffee; Bandits Get the Roll Chicago.—It wasn’t that Christ Zacharias had a hard job. In fact, all he had to do was sit in the back room of a grocery store at 300 East Twenty-fourth street and shoot bandits. Daniel Damis, who owns the gro- cery, had hired Zacharias because he (Mr. Damis) had just gotten sick and tired of being robbed. He had been robbed twice since Monday, and six times since the first of the year. So he decided to rebel against the holdup trust. Zacharias thought rath- er highly of his job, after he got it a few days ago, but one morning about 8:30 he decided to go out for coffee. He went out. In walked two negro bandits. They produced guns. Mr. Damis thought of Zacharias, and used picturesque language in a low tone as the bandits relieved him of $50. Then Zacharias appeared at the door. Mr. Damis looked hopeful, did not know that Zach's gun was in the rear room. Zacharias did know this, however, so he turned and started for Clovis, N. M,, at a record-breaking pace. The bandits departed in a more leisurely fashion. New York Man Slays Son, Mistaking Him for Deer Paul Smiths, N. Y.—Mistaking his son, Thomas P. Ford, fifteen years old, for a deer, P." J. Fork, Albany automobile dealer, shot and killed the youth while hunting in the Adiron- dacks 15 miles from here, According to state troopers, the el der Ford had instructed his son to watch a deer runway. The boy, how- ever, shifted his position and sat on a log. His father, unaware of this, no- ticed a movement near the log and fired. The bullet struck the youth in the back and killed him instantly. Writing Wife’s Address Fatigues This Husband East Chicago, Ind.—John Simakin sent his wife money to pay her fare to America, but she refused to make the trip, he complained in a divorce suit. “Twice each month for 17 years [ sent her money. Now I'm tired of writing her address,” he said. The wife's address was “Saratovska | Uesd United Oelo, States Gubarnia-Kamishinski, Werchana-Dobrinka, of Soviet Russia.” Steals for Exercise Paris.—A Parisian thief entered a bakery, seized a handru! of rolls, ran | away, and was chased snd caught by the proprietor of the stose. On being summoned before a mag- istrate, he admitted the theft, but put forward a novel defense, “1 do it for exercise. 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