rendi Installment fl BIFOR* U* tO ATCOM Ul* Mbraftar Koda**, *\?otorklM Jufl? U l*f?Tlle wttl then throw her wide Be meats her in . her lo tie hotel on and aitceeeds in win _? MfMOMOt, be 6a _ fee |M Un otarwhetofcrgiy' in [in'with tur ntwi And he is married, 1 n Aairicu girl irtth whom he ha* noth ia common. he di*e*wr* tha* thu girl w not ie JaHe Farrow who ruined Rodney, . her cowirt el the' me mom. She com him when be cooieaae* hie love and , _ inability to mUXT W. -Tfter meet later K t.infcn. *|ere M i* f*?l tkc 9*cthat [TUa. Another man/ Lawrence Schofield, puts to marry b*r> in apt* of her wil i life. Tkroeghhij friend Lombard. Gilu Chit ibam meet# the "othar Julio." the no ioua woman who bad ruined Rodney'* 1 NOW CO ON WITH THE STORY . She sat besides him, and her voice ber laugh, and her little tricks of inner sometime* made it seem im jMtble that she was not the same [romau who had come so happily to is arms in the cold, bleak room o little hotel high up in the" moim Latns. She told Giles frankly that she hat [Men a little nervous ot meeting him. "I thought perhaps the family ruitret id extended itself to you," she saic wtterly. "Life is very unkind to some if us, Mr. Chittenham. I am glad you not hate me as badly as I nad ex ited you would." Chittenham hesitated. "When I was on the other side of the [world my-hatred for you was a very jreal and vital thing," he said gravely, l"! used to hope for an opportunity to, l well?" He shrugged his shoulders I and smiled. " 'Avenge' is such a mel 'odramatic word, isn't it?" 'There is no other word that gives } quite the same explanation." she an swered. "Don't vou still hope for it?" "No." "What made you change?" Giles looked away from her down I the crowded little restaurant, and in an aching imagination he saw aeain the bare, ugly room of the mountain hotel, and heard the wind howling as it flung the soft snow against the windows. "Something happened?" he said. She did not answer at once, then she said quietly: "Well, whatever it was. I am glad. I don't want to be hated any more. I don't think any one?even your mother ?could hate me any more if she knew what I know." "Whftt io fm mm* r iylk tuwdndT hfr >ofc?. ^f you would IfJfac ?o drive home ?tei nK a/teriyard? l will t?li yon." "What is it you were going to tell we?" Giles asked after they got into car. He felt an immense curiosity k> this woman, and alio an inexplic able pity*, tor her, which somehow angered him. According to all accounts she wai worthless and heartless, and yet . . . once before he had blundered into .fagedy through listening to and be lieving the things otlier people said. The car stopped. "We are just home," Julie aaid. "Come iu, and I will'ttll you." Julie threw: herself xtown inu, a big chair with a half sigh. Giles said nothing. He stood lean ing against the maOtel-shclf looking 4bwn at her, vaguitfy conscious of something tragic that'seemed to have stolen into the room during the last few moments. Suddenly Julie raised her eyes. "I'm glad you don't*$k thousands of questions," she said. ''You're luch a restful person, Mr. Chfrtenham. I can be quite sure that you won't say 'Oh, my Godl' or anything-like that when t tell you that I am going toi die." "I don't look fike it, do I?" she queried whimsically. "But its true, all the same. It's quite signed and sealed, with no hope of a_ reprieve. I've been to every specialist in London who would take my money, and they ?ill say the same thin*. There could he an operation, but 1 won't haye it. { hate the idea of the knife, especially as it can he a cure?but only just a way of prolonging lift for a little while. \ don't think I want to prolong it either! It*s not been such fun when one looks bask." "What are you going to do then?" "F? going abroad. Couldn't bear the idea of dying here in London, where so many people know me, so I'm going right away where I shan't know any one, and nobody will know me. What do you think of it, Mr. Chitten ham?" "I think you're a very brave woman," Giles sfid, and suddenly he leaned down and took her hand. To his sur prise the tears welled up into her eyes and splashed on to her frock. "'That's foolish of pie, isn't it?" she said. ' And they're not because I'm frightened . . . inese tears 1 It's just because the way you took hold of my hand reminded me of -some one She dre\v a hard breath as of pain. "Some one I really lov^d. There was a map I once really loved, Mr. Chitten |wm." '?'l am sure there was." "He died. . . Julie sat very still for a moment, then ossib!c. never min i' would be there also. For a moment at whose expense. That's v.hat I'm he hesitated, a sudden chill feeling At going to do in the future?that's wli: t his heart, then he philosophically pushed the thought aside and went on. She was almost the first person ht saw when he entered Mrs. Ardron's crowded drawing-room. She was talking to a group of people which included Julie harr.nv and sev eral others whom Giles knew slightly, you?something I want you to do for'ami it wa?. Julie who first caught sight me. Will you be kind to Julie??tlv of li.ni an I waved an airy ha.id. .die said.' "I said: 'Vuu poor little tool! there's po man in all the world wort'j breaking you lieart mer?she wouldn t admit anything, of course, but I knew!?" Julie laugheaid in her insistent way: her?" ' "Present your friend." Til do anything 1 can. bat.. "She's got amongst a horrible set of people," Julie said. "Not really vic ious people, but silly and worthless! They make her drink too much, and swear?and sit up ail night, and she's not that sort! She won't be able to bear it as well as 1 used to. I saw her the other night.. She's got hold of a i*eW friend?" "You mean?Schofield. He's not a bad fellow?" "No. Its a girl?a common Httle American?" "American?" "Yes?a girl named Sadie Barrow why. do you know her?" for Giles had made a sudden convulsive movement "No?yes. ... at least ... no. I don't kiwy her." Not know her! Sadie Barrow ? His own wife. So Sadie had come to London with out acquainting him of the fact. Giles Chittenham felt cold with anger. How tbe devil must be laughing at this success Tul doubk-cross which had not on\y brought Sadie to England when be least wished to see her, but had thrown her across Julie's path. Confound all women! Chittenham thought, then he looked again at the one sitting crouching in the chair he fore him. He stooped impulsively to wards her and took her hand. "I should like to be y?ur friend, too, if I may. I should like to be able to help you." "Thank you, and, Giles?" "Yes." "I was never quite so wicked a* people have made out. It was not my fault about?Rodney. I told him so many times it was useless?why, he was only a boy compared with me? a spoilt, weak boy." "I am afraid he was." "So don't think too badly of me." She drew her hand gently away. "And now?please go. I'm so tired." She did not look at him or rise iram her chair, and Giles walked reluctantly to the door, pausing when he reached it to look back. It seemed horrible to leave her like that?alone! Hor rible. to think that of all the friends and lovers she had known there was not one to stand by her now and' hold her hand as she went through the dark valley lying before her. A day or two later h? saw a small announcement in a newspaper to the effect that she had gone abroad, and would be absent for some time, and that no letters would be forwarded. It was the same night that his mother rang up on the telephone to inform him that she was giving a party. "When ?" he asked, ruthlessly cutting short her voluble explanations. "To-night. Twelve midnight, Giles. There'll be ham and eggs and hot coffee about four." "Good Lord!" "Don't talk like that. It will be such fun. Every one's coming!" "Who is 'every one'?" "Doris, of course?she's bringing a It WM Jottc who obqai. "Mr. Chittenham. Miaa "Pleased to meet you," impudently. There was a twinkle in her m fa* which Giles could have shaken her. Schofield was with JuHe, beaming happily upon every one. "We haven't met lately, Mr. Chittao ham," Julie was saying. "Whew hlVO you been hiding? So kind of yflM[ , mother to ask me here to-night." "So kind of you to come," GOea an swered formally. He could sea thai Sadie was manoeuvring to Teach Ma side, and presently they ware a llttlt apart from the rest. "Isn't it a scrtmmr Sadie it .meal* "Fancy meeting you in your owm mother's house, and she not knowing a daughter^ frodjil that she's entertaining law unawares?" "You are at perfect liberty to ktt her if you choose," Giles. A?|WW?i coolly, though inwardly ba waa owl * "I have no dovibt that yoi havt toll other people already." Sadie gave a little scream pf diation. "Tell any one 1 Not ma 1 It would , cook my little goose once and for all ! if it was known that I'd got fad iaS: tnames, rrccoocn for mc ail cm nin^ and if there's anything left oTtr. frH* dom again." "Why have you come to Londonf Her face chained subtly. "Not to find you, my lambiria, ?? don't worry I I've come to have a pood time, and don't you interfere, or tt will be the worse for you." "Sadie, the situation is impossible?" She laughed in his face. "Rubbisn! Don't pretend that you want me to come back to you." Sadie shrugged her naked shoulder*. "Times change I" she said. She moved away from him, her slim. scantOy-dad body swaying with a little impudpat movement. Giles watched her with hard eye*. And this was his wife! This common little . . . he pulled his thoughts , up sharply, ashamed of them. After all, he h&d once thought her good enough to marry. ? .# Giles turned again to Julie. "I suppose it would be utterly, useless for me to ask you to drop this damn able play-acting?" "My deer man, what on; earth do you mean?" > ' "What I say. You're never natural for a single moment. You hafe this sort of?of piffle?as much as I hata it. You?you despise people like?like these people here?" . Julie laughed serenely. "I brought Lawrence and Sadie Bar row. By the way, what do you.think of Sadie?" "Is she a new friend of yours?" CONTINUED NEXT WEEK the printers ink to tell your cus about what yon have to offer BEUABLE llANWANfip to call ?# fanners in Ja^kpon County. Wonderful opportunity. Make $8 '? \