1 I BOOTH TARKINGTON 3 rv.T lie iKiffi j' v. A' - I' !Hcl 'iH vriht 'by Doubleaay, rare ft Company. j X. l i i mi iii ii , , r -HHHBMWimMb or ather, xlth ma ,v ,r cjUva I WV a. ;;W ana me anxious sympathy of his grand.- buildings noj you kno." lamer ana ms uncle made BEING A GENTLEMAN, I SUPPOSE." . r n'opsls -Major Amberson has made a fortune In 1873 when other people iJifi fortunes, and the magnificence of the Ambersons began then." ??lr Amberson laid out a 200-acre "development," with roads and statuary Major ..- nf n. fnur-a.cr trft.pt nn AmhArimn ni-ami k,,u. , it ii . nitii-ont mansion Midland Citv had vr sin Wh ,. 4 ), most w'". ,.r" -r . : j" ter married young Wilbur Minafer the neighbors predicted that as .ir.i in the center ui w.su AUiuduu vcuue, Duiu ior mmseii tlie aauiii. really love Wilbur all her love would be bestowed unon th MiAreti There is only one child, however, George Ambersdn Minafer, and v.t- HobringiB " . .w....M.o as , miacaiei, maKer are ;puiB --- i.uiv.huiio, jr iue ume ueorcre 1 1 r ira Via iiaaq nnf oam a . - . . 0 . . i..onine with the most pessimistic tfredictions. Hv th. m n - eoes away to college he does not attempt to conceal his belief that the ' Ambersons are about the most Important family In the world. At a, bail given his honor when he returns from college. George monopolizes Ludy Morgan, a stranger and the prettiest girl present, and gets on famously with her until I he learns that a "queer looking duck" at whom he had been poking much fun. Vthe young lady's father. He is Eugene Morgan, a former resident of Big burg and he is returning to erect a factory and to build horseless carriages of hl's own invention. Eugene had, been an old admirer of Isabel's and they had been engaged when Isabel threw him over because of a youthful indiscre tion and married Hbur Minafer.- George makes rapid progress in his court ship of Lucy. A cotillion helps their acquaintance along famously. Their "friendship" continues during his absences at college. George and Lucy become "almost engaged.' CHAPTER X Continued. root'" Aunt Amelia was evidently 4 .... 1 l, At V. !n a passion. M10U Know imi ueen Volne on over there, well enough, Wank Bronson! I thought you were man of the worm: ooni leu me ou're Wind! For nearly two years qnhpl's been pretending to chaperone fanny Minafer with Eugene, and all 'he time she's been dragging mai poor ool Fanny around to chaperone her md Eugene ! Under the circumstances, he knows people will get to thinking Tanny's a pretty slim kind of chap rone, and Isabel wants to please 3eorge because she thinks there'll be ess talk if she can keep her own troiher around, seeming to approve. fTalk !' She'd better look out I The whole town will be talking, the first thins she knows ! She " Amelia stopped, and stared at the Amelia Stopped, and Stared at the Doorway in a Panic. doorway in a panic, for her nephew tood there. ' She kept her eyes upon his white face for a few strained moments, then, regaining her nerve, looked away and shrugged her shoulders. . ' "You weren't intended to hear what Ive been sayin-M?eori?P -" shP snlri quietly. "But since you seem" ' ! "Yes, I did." "So !" She shrufeged her shoulders jam. "After all, I don't know but "s just as w ell, in the long run." He walked up to where she sat. "You --jou-" he said thickly. "It seems seems to nje you're you're pretty cotm:on !" IRl'onson had risen from his cnair in greaf distress. "Your aunt "3 taiKing Jit) 11 Mil y... v Z 1 ,. ; " a business matter. ne said what sth. r.v- . u fnu neither she nor eise gives w f-uch fooiisi world :" nonsense because she's business matter, "She doesn't mean nd neither she the slightest credit mess no one in the uddenfv gU!Ped' flnd wet 1Ines shone "Thevln ng his lower eyelids, tben stn vVd 4etter not!" said. of the house Ut ' the 00m, and out onTesnnrfnStes ,ater. eorge Amber Mgrv rTWhat in the ambiance of an lion tl 17 Plun t of the Man Most him pale nepnew waiting to -Yes3?106 t0 ta,k Georgie." Vhatl tK aVe You'd better r Hte nil ,matter then?" . ,rm tell Jl tne house. I want to ri"a '" here on your Ion of the I Just heard Aunt She .says my side about this dlvl- Eusene At! proPerty because you're an A QVio Bild-N p ixicuu, sue "he said-- x, pause1 t0 swallow. "You inni. ,He Altered. v. ; Uuehed ck" aid his uncle, and ythlBt ZT. TIf "'s because of TOM wt been W I on't nausea, but under his uncle's encour agement he was able to be explicit. "She said ray mother wanted you to1 be friendly to her about Eugene Morgan. She said my mother had been using Aunt Fanny as a chaperone." Amberson emitted a laugh of dis gust. "It's wonderful what tommy-rot a woman In a state of spite can think ofl I suppose you don't doubt that Amelia Amberson created this speci men of tommy-rot herself? Of all the damn nonsense!" , George looked at him haggardly. "You're sure people are not talking?" "Rubbish! Your mother's on. my side about this division because she knows Sydney's a pig and always has been a pig, and so has his spiteful wife. I'm trying to keep them from getting the better of your mother as well as from getting the better of me, don't you suppose? Well, they're In a rage because Sydney always could do what he liked with father unless your mother interfered, and they know I got Isabel to ask him not to do what they wanted. That's all there is to it." i'But she said," George persisted wretchedly; "she said there was talk. She said" "Look here, young fellow !" Amber son laughed good-naturedly. "There probably Is so:ne harmless talk about the way your Aunt Fanny goes after poor Eugene, and I've no doubt I've abetted it myself. Fanny was always languishing at him, twenty-odd years ago, before he left here. Well, we can't blame the poor thing if she's got her hopes up again, and I don't know that I blame her, myself, for using your mother the way she does." "How do you mean?" ( Am!erson put his hand on George's shoulder. "You like to tease Fanny,' he fcald. "but I wouldn't tease her about this, if I were you. Fanny hasn't got much In her life. In fact, I don't know of anything much that Fanny has got, except her feeling about Eu gene. She's, always had it and what's funny to us is pretty much life-and death to her, I suspect. Now, I'll no deny that Eugene Morgan Is attracted to ypur-mother. He is ; and that's an other case of 'always was ; but I know him, and he's a knight, George a crazy one, perhaps, if you've read 'Don Quixote. And I think your mother likes him better than she likes any man outside her own family, and that he Interests her more than anybody else and 'always has.' And that's all there is to it, except " "Except what?" George asked quick ly, as he paused. "Except that I suspect " Amberson chuckled, and began over: "I'll tell you in confidence. Fanny uses your mother for a decoy duck. She does everything In. the world she can to keep your mother's friendship with Eugene going, because she thinks that's what keeps Eugene about the place, so to speak. Fanny's always with your mother, you see ; and when ever he sees Isabel he sees Fanny. Fanny thinks he'll get used to the idea of her being around, and some day her chance may -. come! There! D'you see?" " "Well I suppose so." George's brow was still dark, however. "If you're sure whatever talk there Is, is about Aunt Fanny. If that's so" "Don't be an. ass," his uncle advised him lightly, moving away. "I'm off lor a week's fishing to forget that woman in there, and her. pig of a husband. ' (His gesture toward the Mansion Indi cated Mr. and Mrs. Sydney i AmDer- son.) "I recommend a like course to you, if; you're silly enough to. pay any attention to such rubblshingsl uooa by!" v-, : v ;. ' . . . George was partially reas sured, but still troubled : a word haunt ed him like the recollection of a night mare. "Talk!" i He walked rapidly toward his own front gate. The victoria was there with Fanny alone; she jumped out brisklv and the victoria waited. whoro' mother ?" George asked v w sharnly. "" ' "At Lucv'ff. I only came back to ge', (tome embroidery, because we found the sun too hot for driving. ,1 haven't time to talk now. Georgie ; I'm going right back. I promised your mother ' -You listen!" said George. "What on earth " . H repeated what Amelia had said Tfcia t fcowevr, b spoke coldly. and without the emotion he had ex hibited during thej-ecltal to his uncle: Fanny was the one who showed agita tion during this. Interview, for she grew, fiery red, and her eyes dilated. "What on earth do you want to bring such trash to me for?" she demanded, breathing fast. - ' "I merely wished to know two things : whether it Is your duty or mine to speak to father of what Aunt Amelia " ' Fanny stamped her foot. "You lit tle fool !" she cried. "You awful little fool! Your father's a sick man, and you want to go troubling him with an Amberson family row! It's just what that cat would love you to do !" "Well, I " Tell your father if you like! It will only make him a little sicker to think he's got a son silly enough to listen to such craziness!" . "Then you're sure there Isn't any alk?" Fanny disdained a reply In words. She made a hissing sound of utter con- empt and snapped her fingers. Then she asked scornfully : "What's the Lucy Morgan? Let in: j. seer.; I seem to reraeniKcr the name'.! Didn't I know some Lucy Morgan of oier, once upon a time?' Then you'dflfiake : your big white head and stroke 'bur long1 white beard-you'd have'such distinguished long white beard I andou'd say 'No. I don't seem to remember rahy Lucy Morgan; I wonder what made me think I did?' ' Arid poor me I t'd be deep in the ground, wpndering yif you'd heard about it! and what yo were saying I Good-by for today.' IJph't work too hard dear!" ' ",-r;-v: ''-;-:- r George Immediately Seized nen and paper, pfaintlvely but vigorously re questing Lucy not tck iniiglne him with a . beard, distinguished or otherwise, even in the extremitles-of age. Then, after Inscribing his protest in the mat ter of this visioned $eard, he con eluded his missive In ' tone mollified to tenderness, and proceeded to read a letter, from his mother which" had reached r him simultaneously with Lucy's -Isabel wrote trom Asheville, where she had just arrived with her husband: -V. "I think your fatherooks better al- him feel hypocritlcaL He was not crief-strlck- en; but he felt that he ought to be, and, with, a secret shame, concealed his callousness beneath an affectation of solemnity. ; But when he was taken into the "Didn't you, when you Vre here! Like uncle, like nephew."' "I'm sure I didn't have.it so badlj at his age," Amberson said reflectively-. as they strolled on through the com mencement crowd. Eugene laughed. "You need onrv room where lay what was left of Wil- three things to explain all that's good Dur Minarer, ueorge had no longer to and bad about Georgie." . TwuT i only a few hours. It may be we've Kiui.ue ueiir, uuuer uie cir- fnnnd ilist thpI)irp t hUlrt him nn i i f .i him ii. t m it i - r j j " , , . , . , . . I UC UWVIVIO OUIU t 1 L HUU1U family at least for a time. It might be better " T Fanny stared at him Incredulously. You mean you'd quit seeing Lucy?" "I hadn't thought of that side-of It, but If such a thing were necessary on account of talk about my mother, I- -" He hesitated unhappily. "I sug"- gested that if all of us for a time perhaps only for a time It might be better if" "See here," she Interrupted. "We'll settle this nonsense right now. If Eu gene Morgan comes to this house, for instance, to see me, your mother can't get up and leave the place the minute he gets here, can she? What do you wrint her to do: Insult him? Or per haps you'd prefer she'd Insult Lucy? That would do just as well. What Is It you're up to, anyhow? Do you really love your Aunt Amelia so much that you want to please her? Or do you really liate your Aunt . Fanny so much that you want to that you want to" ' 'She choked and sought for her hand kerchief; suddenly she began to cry. "Oh, see here," George said. "I don't hate you, Aunt Fanny. That's silly. I don't" , "You do! You do! You want to1 you want to destroy the only-thing that I that I ever" . And, unable to continue, she became Inaudible in her handkerchief. George felt remorseful, and his own troubles were lightened : all at once it became clear to him that he had been worrying about nothing. He perceived that his Aunt Amelia was indeed an old cat, and that to giveher scandal ous meanderlngs another thought would be the height of folly. By no means Insusceptible to such pathos as that now exposed before him, he did not lack pity for Fanny, whose almost spoken confession was lamentable ; prove to be, and if it Ms,, it would be worth the long struggle. we had with him to get him to givg up and come. I'm afraid that in myanxiety to get him to do what the '.ioctors wanted him to, I wasn't able t$back up Broth er George as I should $n his difficulty with Sydney and Amelfi. I'm so sorry ! George is more upsetf than I've ever seen him they ve got,&Fhat they want ed, and they're saillnif before long, 1 hear, to live in Floremie. Father said he couldn't stand thj constant per suading I'm afraid tlo' word he used was nagging.' I can't Understand peo ple behaving like tha' George says they may be Ambers$is, but they're vulgar! I'm afraid I almost agree with him. At least, I thln they were In considerate. "We ' plan to stay sK weeks if the place agrees with hlmfr lt does really seem to already ! Hey just called In the door to , say he's ISvaltlng. t Don't smoke too much, darllme boy. "Devotedly, yur mother, ' ' V : "ISABEL." But she did not ketJp her husband there for the six weeklshe anticpated. one uiu uui acrp uiiu;, auji niicic iiiu.1 long. Three weeks ater writing this letter, she telegraph(p suddenly to George that they wre leaving for home at once; and ur days later, whe he and a f rlend$came whistling Into his study, fruha llch at the club, he found another j telljjrara upon his desk. I'd. He read It twice beftore he compre hended Its import. ; ff "Papa left us at tei this morning, dearest. - fl i J MOTHER." The friend saw thQchange in his face. "Not bad news lj . George lifted utteiy dUmf ounded eyes from the yellow japer. "My father," he sai weakly. "She I've got to pretend; his grief was sufficient. It needed only the sight of that forever Inert semblance of the quiet man who had been always so quiet a part of his son's life so quiet a part that George had seldom been consciously - aware that his father was Indeed a part of his life. As the figure lay there, its very quietness was w?at was most life like; and suddenly it struck George hard. And in that unexpected, racking grief of his son, Wilbur Minafer be came more vividly George's father than he had ever been In life. When George left the room, his arm was about his black-robed mother, his shoulders were still shaken with sobs. He leaned upon his mother ; she gently comf6rted him; and presently he re covered his composure and became self-conscious enough to wonder if he had not been making an unmanly dis play of himself, r "I'm all right again, mother," he said awkwardly. "Don't worry about met you'd better go He down, or something; you look pretty pale." - " ' Isabel did look pretty pale, but not ghastly pale, as Fanny did. Fanny's grief was overwhelming ; she stayed in her room, and George did not see her until the next day, a few minutes be fore the funeral, when her haggard face appalled him. The annoyance gave way before a recollection of the sweet mournfulness of his mother's fata, as she ha'ijl said good-by to him at the station, and of how lovely she looked In her mourning. He thought of Lucy, whom he had seen only twice, and he could not help feel ing that in these quiet interviews he had appeared to her as tinged with heroism she had shown, rather than sold, how brave she thought him. When he went back to college, what came most vividly to George's mind, during retrospections, was the despair ing face of his Aunt Fanny. Again and again he thought of It ; ; he could not avoid its haunting. Her grief had been so silent, yet It had so amazed him. George felt more and more compas sion for this ancient antagonist of his, and he wrote to his mother about her: "I'm afraid poor Aunt Fanny might think now father's gone we won't want her to live with 'us any longer and be cause I always teased her so much she might think I'd be for turning her out. I don't know where on earth she'd go or what she could live on if we did do something like this, and of course we never would do such a thing, but I'm pretty sure she had something of the kind on her mind. She didn't say any thing, but the way she looked is what makes me think so. Honestly, to me she looked just scared sick. You tell her there Isn't any danger in the world of my treating her like that. Tell her everything Is to go on just as it al ways has. Tell her to cheer up!" Isabel did more for Fanny than tell ing her to cheer up- Everything that Fanny Inherited from her father, old Aleck Minafer, had been invested in Wilbur's business; and, Wilbur's busi ness, after a period of illness corre sponding in dates to the Illness of Wil bur's body, had died just before Wil bur did. George Amberson and Fanny wrere both 44wiped out to a miracle of Three?" "He's Isabel's only child. He's an Amberson. He's a boy." - - - - "Weil, Mister Bones, of these three things which are the good ones ?m5 which are the bad ones?" - - --' "AH of them," said Eugene. - - George took no conspicuous part in either the academic or the social cele brations of his class; he seemed to re gard both sets of exercises with a tol erant amusement, his own "crowd' "not going In much for either of those sorts of things," as he explained to Lucy. What his crowd had gone in tor -remained ambiguous ; some negligent testimony Indicating that, except for an i astonishing reliability which the all seemed to have attained In mattei relating to musical comedy,, they had not gone in for anything. Certainly the question one of them put to Lucy, i I'm All Right Again, Mother," Said Awkwardly. and he was granted the vision to uu derstand that his mother also pitied says she says he's dd Fannv infinitely more than he aid. go nome, This seemed to explain everything. He patted the unhappy lady awk wardly upon her shoulder. "There, here!" he said. , "I didn't mean any thing. , Of course the only thing to do about Aunt Amelia is to pay no atten tion to'her. It's all right. Aunt Fanny. Don't cry. I feel a lot better now, my self. Come on ; I'll drive back there with you. It's all over, and nothing's the matter. Can't you cheer up?" Fanny cheered up ; and presently the customarily hostile aunt and nephew were driving out Amberson boulevard amiably together In the hot Sunshine. A. ... . . . His Uncle, 'fieorge and the Major met htm at the Station when he arrived the; first tlmethe Major had ever come to meet hisprandson. The old gentleman sat in Ibis closed car riage (which still needed paint) at the entrance to the station but he got out and advanced to grasrj George's hand CHAPTER XI. - "Almost" was Lucy's last word on the last night of George's vacation that vital evening which she had half consented to agree upon for "settling things" between them. "Almost en- j gaged," she meant. And George, dis contented with the "almost," but con tented that she seemed glad to wear a sapphire locket with a tiny photograph of, George Amberson Minafer Inside It, found himself wonderful In a new world at the final instant of their part- lug. For, after declining to let him kiss her "good-by,H as If his desire for such a ceremony were. the most pre posterous absurdity In the world, she had leaned suddenly close to him and left upon, his cheek the veriest feather from a fairy's wing. She wrote him a month later: "No. It must keep on beingN almost. "Isn't almost prettj pleasant? . You know well enough that I care for you. I did from the first minute I saw you. and I'm pretty sure you knew it I'm afraid you did. I'm afraid you always knew It. But it's such a solemn thing It scares me. It means a good deal to a lot of people besides you and m n nd rli:i i scs res me, too. I shouldn't ! a bi .sMnrlscd to fvd myself, an ii'd h'dv s'-ine l;'y, still thinking of voU wtiti.' von'i? i t away and away wi?h yMMpiI. 'ilse 'fWrh-'i s. and me fi irtroiic Vi'VYi'sr -1 ' ' ; T vry organ "There, There!" He Said. ! Didn't Mean Anytng." tremulously, when the atter appeared. "Poor fellow !" he said.tjand patted him repeatedly upon the shoulder. 'Poor fellow ! - Poor Georgie ; George noticed thal the Major's tremulousness did nol, disappear,, as ihey drove up the strcSt, and that he seemed much, feebler Jan during the summeri i Principally, t bwever, George you'd -av, wiki v uu uu uj) obituary, j wait concerned wkh h own emotion, precision," as Amberson said. They "owned not a penny and owed not a penny," he continued, explaining his phrase. "It's like the moment just be fore drowning : you're not under water and you're not out of it. All you know Is that you're not dead yet." He spoke philosophically, having his "prospects" from his father to fall back upon; but Fanny had neither "prospects" nor philosophy. However, a legal survey of Wilbur's estate re vealed the factUhat his life Insurance was left clear of the wreck ; and Isa bel, with the cheerful consent of her son, promptly turned this salvage over to her sister-in-law. Invested, it; would yield something better than nine hun dred dollars a year, arid thus she was assured of becoming neither a pauper nor a dependent, but proved to be, as Amberson said, adding his efforts to the cheering up of Fanny, "an heiress, after all, in spite of rolling mills and the devil." . The collegian did not return to his home for the holidays. Instead, Isa bel joined him, and they went South for the two weeks. She was proud of her stalwart, good-looking son at the hot el where they ' stayed, and It, was meat and drink to her when she saw how people stared at him in the lobby and on the big verandas indeed, her vanity In him was so dominant that she was unaware of their staring at her with more Interest and an ad miration 4 friendlier than George evoked. Both of them felt constantly the dif ference between this Christmas time and other Christmas times of theirs in all, it was a sorrowful holiday. Bur when' Isabel came East for George's commencement, in June, she brought Lucy with her and things began to seem different, especially when George Amberson arrived with Lucy's,, father on class day. Eugene had been In New York, on business ; Amberson easily persuaded him to this outing ; and they made a cheerful party of it, with the new graduate of course the hero and center of it all. : His uncle was a fellow alumnus. "Yonder was where I roomed when '. was here," he said, pointing out one o: the university buildings to Eugene. " In; response to investigations of her seemed to point that way : "Don't yo think," he said, "really, don't yo think that being things is rather bettei than doing things?" 'j He said "rahthuh bettuh" for "rathe better," and seemed to do it deliberate ly, with perfect knowledge of what h was doing. Later, Lucy mocked him to George, and George refused to - 11 1 1 A. t 11 1 smne; ne swnewuai uiuiueu w buck nrnnnnHfltinns himself. This tnoltnft ttnn wns nne of th thincrs that h had acquired in the four :ears. " What else he had acquired, It might have puzzled him tc state, had any body asked him and required a direct reply within a reasonable space cf. time. He had learned how to pass ex aminations by "cramming;" that Is, la mice ui iu iii ua.y o uuu uiguio --vruw get Into his head eno ugh of a select fragment of some s ientiflc of philo-. sophical. or literary linguistic sub ject to reply plausibly to six question out of ten. He coul? relain the infor mation necessary for such a feat just ong enough to give a successful per formance; then It would evaporate ut terly from his brain, an& leave him un disturbed. George, like his "crowd, not only preferred "being things" t' "doing things," but had content 1 hlxfr self with four years of "being thing" as a preparation for going on "beinf, things." And when Lucy rather shylj pressed him for his friend's probable definition of the "things" it seemed m superior and beautiful to be, George raised his eyebrows slightly, meaning that she should have understood with out explanation; but he did explain: un, ramny ana an taat Demg a gen tleman, I suppose." Lucy gave the horizon a long look but offered no comment. "Aunt Fanny doesn't look much be '' ter," George said to his mother, a few . minutes after their arrival, on the ff . i. A . - A M nigni mey gor nome. uoesn i sne gi over It at all? I thought sh'd feel better when we turned over the insult ance to her gave It to her absolutely, without any strings to it. She looicr about a thousand years old!" . "She looks quite girlish, sometimes, though," his mother, said. 'Has she looked that way muck since father " "Not so much," Isabel said thought fully. "But she will, as time goes on." "TlmeU have to hurry, then. It seem to me," George obserred, returning te "The idea of being a pro fessional man has never ap pea!ed to me." ; (TO BE CONTINUED.) Raiting Foxes on Ranches. Raising ranch-bred foxes Is aa 1 dustry that Is being ' carried on e In at least a- dozen of the northern beginning In Japan and orway. al mj iUg 111 UiUVll cue: ARUiv viiuiair adapted to domestcanna the blatfs don't know whether George would let I tax. under the mot Ca rorahlr coni I tar adinlrerg place a. tablet to marki 1 Hi . 0

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