(oecretarv o I nvoious aire is MAyTijipjiii GOrrtlCHT 19)1 SOBBS-MERSia COMPANY I SYNOPSIS. Jo Codman and her elster Loulle ar left orphans. Their property has been wept away by the death of thetr fa ther and they are compelled to cast about Tor some means to earn a living. Lou lle answers an advertisement of an Inva lid who wants a companion. She declines the position. Loulle advertises for a po sition as companion, and Mrs. Hasard replies. She offers Loulle a position as her "secretary of frivolous affairs." Her chief work Is to steer Mrs. Hazard's son and daughter In the right matrimonial path. Loulle talks baseball to Hap Haz ard and also gains the confidence of Lau ra Hazard.. The Due de Trouvllle is be lieved to be Interested In Laura. Mrs. Hazard gives a big reception and Loulle meet many people high In the social world. Natalie Agazzlz. to whom Hap has been paving attention, loses an em erald bracelet during the reception. She declares there is not another like It in the world. It develops that Natalie has lost several pieces of jewelry under sim ilar circumstances. Hap takes Loulie to the baseball game. He tells her he is not engage-) to Natalie and has been cured of h's Infatuation. The scene changes to the Hazard country place, where manv notables have been invited for the summer. Loulle and Laura visit the farm of Winthrop Abbott, an author. In whom Laura takes considerable inter est. Due de Trouvllle arrives at the Haz ard place. Loulle hears TVinthrop's mo tor boat out late at night. Next morning thf papers announce the robbery of sev eral nearbv homes. Natalie accuses Lou He of stealing her ruby pendant. Mrs. Hazard assures Loulle of her confidence In her. Hap declares his love for Loulie. She reciprocates, but will not admit it as she fears what Mrs. Hazard will say. CHAPTER XIII. The Department of Correspondence. I simply couldn't manage to dress In five minutes, although Celie, like the jewel she is, had put out the simplest gown Mrs. Hazard allowed me and began throwing my clothes at 3ne the minute I appeared. I collapsed Into a chair and she pulled the pins from my hair. My face was streaked with tear-stains where I had cried, my eyes were red, my nose worse. Celie looked at me in despair while the clock ticked off the seconds fiend ishlyticked off two minutes, to be exact and chatter from the drawing Toom floated up to me through the open windows. That punctual dinner gong would sound in Just three min utes. . "Ah, Mademoiselle, you are ill!" Celie cried alarmed. "You have been crying. If you please, will Mademoi selle allow me the time for massage? Mademoiselle Is most" "Yes, Celie, I'm a wreck," I inter irupted in English, "and. there's no -woman in the world can dress in jthree minutes. "Will you ask Mrs. Hazard to excuse me for this one evening if she hasn't already gone (down? Tell her I have a headache; my head does ache, Celie. Run! If he has gone down come back quickly And hook me every other hook and trust to luck. I'll do my hair while you're gone." ! She was already across the corridor land I gave my hr.ir . a twist, a loop, tuck pins in, blessed the Lord for the curls he had given me, and tried to repair my damaged face with a pmear of cold cream. I had always iread of shining eyes and glowing cheeks after what I had just been Ithrough; when a man had given me his heart, and had kissed me into ac ,tnowledging that I loved him, besides making me promise all sorts of won derful promises I knew I couldn't keep. I couldn't, I couldn't, I couldn't. I began to cry again, but I didn't Ihave time to cry. I winked back the tears and smeared on more cream; Mrs. Hazard appeared. "My dear child!" she exclaimed. "What is the matter? Celie says you ere ill?" "Oh, it's nothing, but I've been cry ing as you know," I added hastily, "and I'm a fright, and I can'l get dressed before that gong sounds. I don't feel like talking. Would it be too much to ask if I might have a headache and stay here for once?" "Of course, you may," she replied sympathetically. "I should have been the one to suggest it. My dear, don't worry, don't there's the gong! Send Celie for vour dinner, and if you need . me, send for me. Remember there's ..nothing to cry about." She bustled out in her dear, fat way. I heard her speak to Hap in the corridor, and my fingers, smearing the cold cream, trembled against my face at the sound of his voice. He Joved me; he loved me; he loved me! Suddenly something inside me gave way, either in my brain or my heart, 1 don't know which, and I went for ward across my dressing-table, my greasy face against the dainty pink and white covering, and had a real cry, a jolly, soul-refreshing weep. "Ah, Mademoiselle ees in ze grand deestres-.s!" Celie exclaimed: "Mad emoiselle ees ill. Mademoiselle 'as rtevaire " I knew Celie was in "ze grand dee etress" herself when she lapsed into English. I sat up again, wiping the tears from my eyes and the grease from my face. "Get me my dinner, Celie," I said 1tween egos. "I'm bo hungry. I'll feI better when I eat something." , fihe looked" at me astonished.- She m. ... J jy-i r. t rif r"Hro hons!iei p lorf 11 Illustrations Jby V.L.BARNES "Mademoiselle will not faint?" she inquired. "I'll not faint unless you fail to come with the dinner," I assured her. "Now hurry!" When the door closed upon her I looked into the mirror and smiled, not at what I saw there, although it was funny enough, but I smiled because I closed my eyes ecstatically. He loved me; he had kissed me! I sat there a long time, how long I don't know, dreaming. I had never al lowed myself the luxury of such thoughts. I had pushed them back and trampled them down, and refused to listen. How dear was that expres sion about his mouth, and how beau tiful his eyes! I loved the forelock! I had touched it! I covered my face suddenly. My throat was tight; I was suffocating with happiness. I had loved him from the first. I knew that now. I wondered that I didn't realize my danger from the minute Mrs. Hazard made her pro posal to me. I remembered perfectly how he had looked at me that first meeting; a silly, unromantic place it was a crowded street, and I had wisps of hair dangling about my ears. Funny! Silly things like that to come sneaking into one's thoughts at such a time. I had learned the sound of the gray car; I admitted now that I had listened for it. I knew his step from the first. I knew, too, that he had al ways been near; and I had to talk baseball to him, it was part of my job. Baseball? Pshaw! An excuse. Natalie? Gracious, she never had a chance, after he saw me! I must not think that! How awful! But he had said so; his lips said so, his eyes said so. He loved me! And I cried about it to my heart's content. I rose suddenly and went to the window, with my unfastened gown falling about me. I sank down and put my arms upon the casement. His mother must not know. I couldn't lose her love and trust. I'd have to tell Jo. Of course, I couldn't marry him; I knew that, knew it, knew It! Be sides, Natalie had said I had taken her silly ruby. I must prove I didn't. But how? Jo would know. Poor Jo! She knew something was going to happen to me. She knew from the beginning I was going to fall in love with somebody! The air was cool and salty and good against my hot face. Everything was still and the trees cast long, placid shadows on the grass from the dying sun. Vincent, tinkering with the engine of the limousine in the driveway-below, was talking softly to Henri, the boy who looked after the tennis courts, but the' conversation reached me plainly. Vincent was try ing to speak French, and Henri trying to answer in English. Funny! The slang they used, although Henri ex pressed himself fully as well as His Grace. I could hear Winthrop yelling to a fisherman. A moment later a motor-boat sounded Winthrop's boat and a searchlight faintly pierced the fast-falling twilight. I discarded the evening gown and put on the white flannel dress in which I played tennis. I knotted a blue scarf beneath the collar and tied a blue ribbon around my hair. He loved the ribbon; he had said so once. I wore it when I played tennis And Had a Real Cry, a Jolly, Soul 1 Refrechinn Ween. to keep the hair out of my eyes; now I put it on, trying to be a girl again, just as I was when Jo and I I would not cry again! One isn't quite broken-hearted when one can eat. I was finishing my coffee when Celie brought me a note. I know I went red as she handed it to me. I wonder If I had expected it. I tried to speak casually. "Thank you, Celie. I won't need you again tonight. You may go." I didn't dare open it while she was there. "But Monsieur requests the answer, Mademoiselle. "TVprc'i! no htswT, Celie," I faid, wl Sri i f 1 Ft Celie hesitated, looked at me np pealingly, and went out. Then I read my first love letter: My Own: The sun has gone out, the earth is a barren waste. I refuse to believe there will ever be light again until I can see you. Why did you not come down to dinner? Celie says you are ill; mother 6ays it's be cause you didn't have time to dress. I'm a beast for keeping you. I have spoiled the evening. Are you really 111, darling? If it's the dress, won't you come now? I shall wait for you on the stairs. Impatiently. HAP. I kissed the name that dear, Billy nickname and put the letter in my bosom, over my heart. It was stiff and uncomfortable, and I wished he had made a happier choice of station ery, but it was very sweet there, over my heart. I watched the moon com ing up, a rim of silver showing along the horizon, then a stream of light shimmering, dancing across the wa ter. He was waiting on the stairs for me! It was dreadfully stupid alone. Of course, no one would disturb me. . . "Are you ill, darling?" ... Dorothy was playing the piano below. Gracious ! Why- didn't some one keep her from singing Sleepy Song so soon? She'd put everybody to yawning. I knew then why I was necessary. I hoped my fiends wouldn't get mixed. . . . "If it's the dress, won't you come now?" ... I surveyed myself in the mirror and shook my head. I couldn't go down; I didn't want to go. Natalie had said I was a thief! But he was waiting on the stairs for me, and that was heavenly! Now, I always thought Celie an ex ception. She isn't. She's just like every other French maid. She takes a fiendish delight in anything that ap pears the least romantic or clandes tine. She came in with a second note, beaming. I looked at her frowning a bit, and took It. "Celie, you are not to bring anoth er," I said firmly. "Do you under stand?" "Oui. Mademoiselle, oui, oui! Mais Monsieur !" "You are to go below and stay there, Celie." "But Monsieur sent for me," Celie explained. "You are to 6tay below," I insisted. "Ah, Mademoiselle, I dare not dis obey Monsieur." "You are to obey me, Celie," I said in my most indulgent tone, but quite firmly. "You may go." "But, Mademoiselle, there is the answer?" "There is no answer." "Ah, Mademoiselle, there Is the an swer. Monsieur she hnisnea in English "he will, what you call him. murder me if zere ees not ze ansaire." I turned away to smile. I should have been vexed. It really was most ridiculous, ernbarrassing, too. Celie was sure to gossip. I sat down and hastily wrote the answer. My Dear Friend: As I do not wish you to resort to murder, and as I need my maid, here is the answer. Will you please not write again, as I have for bidden Celie to bring another letter. Sincerely, LOULIE CODMAN. I read it over before I sealed It, and it sounded so frigid that I relented and wrote: P. S. I am not really ill, I am sup posed to have a headache. . L. When I was alone once more I kissed the envelope of my second let ter before I opened it: Darling, Darling: Why do you deny me one little word? Don't bo cruel. I waited on the stairs smoking countless cigarettes which I threw into that Sevres affair in the nook just to see Burrows fish them out and keep my mind away from the century it took you to appear. You did not come; you did not answer. I refuse to believe it. I think that maid of yours is a fraud. Laura has gone to the gate, expecting Winthrop, I sup pose, and mother is trying to settle your fiends,' or I would make one of them bring me to you. I could come Into the corridor and speak to you through the door. May I? How many thousand years has it been since I kissed you? HAP. I was in a panic. He must not come into the corridor and speak to me, and he would; he wa3 Just crazy enough to do it. I wished frantically for Celie, but she would not come back. ,1 had been quite positive with her. I sat down and hastily wrote another answer to beg him to be dis creet, not knowing Just how I could reach him without ringing. I heard footsteps along the cor ridor; Celie was returning, the minx! I had been so positive with her, too! She came in with her hands behind her, looking guilty. I stood with my hands behind me, trying to look cross. "Another, Celie?" "Ah, Monsieur is most persuasive," she replied. "Mademoiselle, do not be angry. It is the last billet-doux, I promise." She thrust the billet-doux forward. "I hope so." I thrust my billet-doux forward. "There, take that to Mon sieur. It is a silly notion such cor respondence. It means nothing. I shll regard another as impertinent." "Oh, oui, oh, oui, oui!" squealed Celie, Emiling. "Monsieur is most original." I was never so exasperated in my life. I did not read it. I had told him I would not read the next one. I put it away over my heart with the oth ers, where it nestled did it? It did not! It was still more stiff and un comfortable. I wondered, what was in It? After all, it came before mine reached him; it was not the next one. I drew It forth, turned it over and over, wondered again and opened it! . Its contents were rather amazing: of the etalrs to the tennis court In five minutes. I have something most important to communicate. HAP. CHAPTER XIV. The Mysterious Motor Boat. I gazed at the letter, trying to com prehend, and finally read It over again. It was short, there was not a line of sentiment; it was a demand. Why? It flashed into my mind that it had to do with Natalie's missing ruby. I did not stop to reason or conjecture. I caught-up a sweater, for the night was growing cool and already I was shivering. I went out along the corridor, up the few steps to the main hallway, then down the stairs on the other side of the few steps to the gallery, which was an outlet to the tennis courts. Hap was waiting. "What is It?" I gasped. "What has happened? Has anything happened?" "Yes," he answered, after a mo ment's hesitation. "Something has happened." He caught my hand and drew me across the Btrip of lawn that sep arated the house and the courts. "Where are wo going?" I asked breathlessly. "To the beach. I want to talk to you." We almost stumbled over some one asleep. It was Henri. Hap prodded him with his foot and Henri sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Get up, you idiot," Hap command ed. "This Is no place to sleep." "He'll catch cold," I chattered as the cold night air struck my arms and my bared neck. Henri arose and disappeared into the shadows. Hap helped me put on the sweater, turned me around as If I were a little child, buttoned me and hurried me on to the beach. We clat tered down the steps to the sand be low and sat down just as we had only a couple of hours ago. "Now, what is it?" I asked. "WThat has happened?" "You are prepared for anything?" He gazed, into my white face. I know it was white. "You will not be fright ened?" "I am prepared for anything!" I an swered, trying to keep my voice steady. "I promise you I will not be frightened. I promise!" He clasped my hands in both his own. "Darling!" "Yes, yes?" "I love you." I waited, fearing, dreading I knew not what. "What has happened?" I asked. "Don't keep me in suspense." "That has happened." He 6miled. "What?" "I love you." I looked at him in astonishment; he was smiling easily. A sudden wave of anger swept over me. "You have tricked me! I thought it was the ruby. I thought I was sure " Connected thought forsook me. "Hang the ruby!" he exclaimed. "I did trick" you, dear, because you are so blessed sensible. Your cool little note, which I have here over my heart, convinced me that you are not at all a comforting kind of a sweet heart, but I hope to teach you. Now, look into my eyes and tell me you love me! Nothing else matters; nothing else except my love for you. I'm sorry I frightened you again. I didn't think of that. I only knew I wanted you to come, knew that I couldn't wait another moment to see you, to hear you say you love me." He was sweeping me off my feet again. I closed my eyes to steady my self. I wonder if he knew just how much my being sensible had cost me. just how much more it was going to cost me to push back, trample down "I'm trying to be sensible," I said, and the tone of my voice was cool, because I was trying to keep it steady. "My sister has pounded it into me so. I know my head rules my heart, there's a line in my hand that says so. but it's because I must be sen sible." I gave w-ay in contradiction of my words and swayed forward. His arm went around me. I placed my hands, comrade-like, on his shoulders. I was trying to live upto that line in my hand. . "This can't go on," I said. "WThat?" "This seeing you, with a moon like that, and no one near and loving you." He kissed me before I could finish. "I must be sensible!" "You love me darling?" "Oh!" "Why must you be sensible?" I thought for a while before I an swered, meeting his eyes unwavering ly. It was hard to put the answer In to words if he did not already under stand the intangible everything that was the reason. "Do you remember that I'm in a very serious position?" I asked him. "I've been accused of of being a thief, not suspected, but actually ac cused!' Perhaps tomorrow I shall be arrested. That means means hand cuffs, doesn't it? And jail? - It's 6ure to be in the newspapers. Arrests are a matter of public record, aren't they? Then I will have to vindicate myself? And how? And if I do, the smudge will always be there, my name in the records of the police. Do you suppose I am going to let you expose yourself as my champion? Everybody will be lieve it, except perhaps your mother, and Laura, and and yourself. Miss Agazziz believes I'm a thief!" "Loulie, will you narry me tonight now? Give me the right to protect you?" "No," I answered promptly. "It's all darned foolishness, Natalie accusing you. She acted on an im- pelf when she's had time to think ft over." "She didn't act on an impulse; she Isn't that kind. She's sure she'B right. Do you remember that I was on the balcony at the time she thinkB her emerald bracelet was Btolen?" "Do you know that before you came she suspected Winthrop?" he asked. "Yes, I know." "It's all a lot of tommy-rot, her sus picions. I belleyt she loses things. No one else has had anything stolen. If we have a thief here he wouldn't stop at one Jewel, where there are so many. If she's In earnest about being robbed, why doesn't she go to the po lice and say so?" , "O-o-oh! The police!" I couldn't re sist imitating her. "Well, perhaps she's going to the police now. That that's what I must be prepared for. She hasn't had time to do anything yet but tell your mother. She won't gossip, Hap; she'B true blue, but of course she will do something de-. cisive after after accusing me.' Sure ly your mother will send me away. You see I can't go until she 6ends me it's a contract. Then I dare not think beyond that! Whatever comes I must face .' t, with Jo to help me." "And me-'-don't leave me out, Lou lie. You're going to marry me. It's the best answer I know to any sus picions." "I'm not going to marry you, Hap. I've tried to make you see the reason the big reason and there are a "Mademoiselle, Do Not Be Angry. It Is the Last Billet-Doux, I Promise." thousand little ones. Don't you sup pose everybody knows abojdt me? That I am a salaried servant? No, there Is no use trying to disguise It. Everybody knows my position; I'm not allowed to forget it.. There's a great deal of assurance in the way Natalie indicates a vacant chair when she wants me to fill in at bridge. It rather amuse3 me. Mrs. Sargent sent me for golf balls the other day, actu ally. Yes, I know, everybody is pret ty decent since Laura kicked up a row about that episode at Mrs. Dyke- man's, but it only served to make ii more conspicuous that Mrs. Dykeman didn't consider me a guest; I was only borrowed for the occasion. Please don't abuse anybody. Noth ing has been awkward as I expected it to be. Your mother has been heavenly to me, and society has taken to me rather kindly, but marrj you ! Gracious!" I heard the steady beat of a motor boat and I paused to listen. Haj heard it, too. It wasn't anything un usual, except the insistent beat of the engine was familiar to me. It musi have been making twenty miles ' as hour. (TO BE CONTINUED.) NAMES OF VARIOUS CLOTHS Chiefly Derived From Their Place cA Manufacture, Though Not In All Cases. Muslin Is named from Mosul, a cits on the banks of the Tigris; Cambric from Cambria, a town of France Gauze is probably derived from Gazs in Syria, "although some authoritiei hold to the Hindu "gazi," meaning thin cloth. Baize, which is commonly thought of as being of green hue, was namei from its original color, a reddist brown. The word is really the plural of "bay," and the color is that of th horse which is known as "bay." A form of the word is common in many tongues. Damask, quite obviously, is derived from Damascus. Silk and serge are both derived from the Latin Seres, meaning th Chinese. These fabrics were -first im ported from that portion of Asia which is now southern China. Velvet is from the Italian velluto, meaning woolly, this from the Latin vellus, a fleece. Vellum is a derivative of the same root a pelt or hide. Bandanna is from the Indian word meaning to "bind or tie," and has ref ernce to the manner of tying knots in the fabric to prevent the dye from reaching every part thereof. In thii way spots are left white and a rude pattern remains in the cloth. , Alpaca comes from the animal of the same name in Peru. It is of the llama species and its wool is used to manufacture the fabric employed in the making of summer garments. Calico got its name from Calicut, a town In India, once celebrated for ita cotton cloth. The LUt. "They say she got all kinds of money out of her marriage." "She got several kinds. Tre was matrimony, then testimony, sb .1 tv'3i j1!""ftn MRMriONAL SDNDifSClOL LESSOlf (By E. O. SELLERS, Director of Evenlm. Department, The Moody Bible Institute, If "1t I . v ft LESSON FOR JUNE 22 BLINDING EFFECT OF SIN. LESSON TEXT Amos 6:1-8. GOLDEN TEXT "Seek good, and not evil, that ye may live." Amos 6:14. Amos was the third of the minoi prophets and ( prophesied concerning Israel in the days of Uzziah, king ol Judah, about 790 B. C. His name means "burden" and his prophecy re veals a sore one. Though outwardly prosperous, and victorious upon the 'Wy battlefield, indeed Israel's "golden 'if ag" yet this prophet reveals that 11 was an age of lead as well, for he shows that associated with political and material prosperity was a gross moral corruption; even as was the case In the declining days of the Ro man Empire and as was the state of France just preceding the days of the French Revolution. This is certainly a lesson for our day. Blessed as we have been so abundantly, we need tc pause and examine the framework o our political and moral life. God's Proclamation. . "Woe to them that are at ease in Zion" (verse 1). What an indictment, ' and of how many can this be said in '' this 'present day. The state of Israel spoken of by Amos has come down through the ages. We must not, oi course, suppose that all were In that state, but rather the majority. Any one at all interested or familiar with present-day church life knows -lurw few are concerned with the fundamen tal work of the church, viz., seeking to save the lost. Not only our indiffer ence to those of heathenism but of oui neighbors and companions. How much are we concerned with the groans and the cry of intemperance except per hapu to shed a few crocodile tears and straightway forget? But God b the mouth of the prophet proclaim1 "Woe." WTe are not called to "easel but to work, not alone to enjoy biitv to suffer, r Tim. 2:12. If we are tc escape the woe we must bestir our selves and not be at ease. This ol course refers to the war being waged against evil and not to any matter oi our personal salvation, Phil. 46, 7R.V. Pet. 5:7. This is the ease of indif ference to God's honor and the peril of men out of Christ. The prophet then points to the na tions that bordered about (verse 2) and warns them that like as they bad come and gone, risen to eminence and power and sunken to obscurity and de cay, so also will Israel unless it bestii itself. America is strong and proud but is just as weak as those that have gone before. We could not stand half-slave and half-free," no more can we stand half-intoxicated and half sober. We may seek to put off the evil day (verse 3) but whatsoever we sow that shall we also reap, Gal. 6:7 Israel relied upon the fortified moun tains round about, only to find latei such support to be a broken reed, for the day of reckoning came (9:10). Sinners scoff at warning, hell is a myth, judgment and death a long way off, 2 Pet. 3:4. Governments put off the proper course of action for politi cal reasons and the people perish, Witness intemperance in America, opium (due to England's perfidity) in China, and slavery in Africa. Can God be a righteous God and overlook these things? "W7here there is no vision (knowledge of the need and the re sources at our command)-the people perish," e. g., throw off restraint R. V., Prov. 29:18. Lacking a vision, nations, families and individuals alike perish. Rather than to face the issue (verse 4) we give ourselveB to ease and to tho enjoyments of the sensual na ture. "Because sentence against the evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the -heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil" Eccl. 8:11; and so to the chant of music (verse 5) they drink bowls of vkneM (verse 6) and anoint themselves with choice ointments but are not con cerned about the affliction of Joseph, o. g., the chosen ones of God. Display of Wealth. Here we have a terrific indietiipst. These people abounded in "superxul ties" (marg.) suggesting something of the lavish display of wealth we are constantly beholding, each seeking to outvie the other, whereas God is call ing the Christian to a life of simplic ity as the price of power. The intern perate way some professed Christians load up with diamonds, the straining to attract attention by means of dress, as well as other forms of display, de mands that we pause and ask what will be the outcome, let alone the ef j the er-1 i I Peti' !:24, 2a fect upon the Kingdom. See 3:3, 4; I Tim. 2:9, 10; Luke 6 TVTatf 1R-91 "Therefore" (verse 7). "Back oif every effect is an adequate cause."1 Back of the fall of Babylon was a cor rupt court, back of the fall of Rome an enervated, morally emancipated people; back of the fall of Jerusalem a disobedient race who trespassed once too often. In bringing this lesson before oci younger scholars we can tell the story of Israel's outward prosperity and call attention to the fact that like the taJ' oak, if its heart is rotten, it will fali and decay. Emphasize various other kinds of Intemperance, in speech, ames, wealth, tobacco, etc. i

Page Text

This is the computer-generated OCR text representation of this newspaper page. It may be empty, if no text could be automatically recognized. This data is also available in Plain Text and XML formats.

Return to page view