jfypture
0 by KfllHflßint IIEUIIIII BURT 9
EIGHTH INST ALIMENT
Synopsis
JooeJyn Harlowe, raised in a
French convent, at the age of
eighteen joins her mother, Mar
cella, in New York. Worried
about her safety, because she
is unfamiliar with the modern
world and has developed into a
beautiful woman, her mother's
first wish is to got her safely
married. Attending her first
ball, Jocelyn meets Felix Kent,
rich, handsome and nineteen
years older than herself. En
couraged by her mother, she
and Felix quickly become en
gaged. Alone in her apart
ment one night, a cripple, Nick
Sandal, enters by the fire
escape, confides in her that he
Is her father and that her real
name is Lynda Sandal. Uncer
tain "about whether she wants
to get married so quickly, Joce
lyn goes to talk things over
with her mysterious father.
There she meets Jock Ayieward,
a gambler, who gradually in
terests her more and more.
When she mentions the name
Felix Kent In front of him he
acts greatly shocked but says
nothing. One night Jock comes
to her home and begins to tell
his story of how he was a
mining engineer, worked under
Kent and was sent to jail for
making what was adjudged a
false affidavit upon which
worthless stock was sold to his
townspeople.
"Miss Lynda, I was not. Tailey
must have had instructions. Tai
ley and Kent must have been in
collusion. I was shown Just so
much of that mine—and just so
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little—as would secure from any
engineer a good report."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that Kent paid Tailey
one million dollars for a worth
less mine, received two million
dollars from the stockholders for
the same mine, cleared a profit
of one million, made me the
scapegoat and got off clear."
Jocelyn found that she was on
her feet. Until that instant she
had not realized how important
that man Felix Kent was to her
life, how solidly he had laid hold
of her interest, her loyalty. She
must defend him.
"I understand that you would
naturally be tempted to find
some such explanation for your
own terrible mistake. I under
stand that you would almost in
evitably be driven to making it.
But since I know Mr. Kent very
well, I find the whole story—as
you tell it—perfectly preposter
ous." -
Jock was looking at her care
fully and cooly. He bowed.
"I didn't suppose you would be
lieve me. I merely wanted to
explain to you my hatred of Fe
lix Kent. I hoped that it might
damage him with you."
"Your hatred belongs elsewhere,
Mr. AyleWard; and it is you that
have been damaged in my eyes.
I should think that rather than
spend your strength in hatred
you would try to make a more—
a more honorable fresh start. A
gambler is not much better than
a thief."
"You are in love with Felix
Kent?" he asked her quietly.
"You are asking me—"
"For the hundredth time, I beg
your pardon. Miss Sandal. I will
say goodnight. Thank you for
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the music and for your patience
in listening to my—fairytale. May—
I take a message to your father?""*
Jocelyn said, "What is his new~
address?" Their words seemed to*
be spoken above a sort of tumults
as of hurrying water ... a tumult
that belonged to some other
than hearing. A tumult of the
soul.
Jock handed her a slip of pa—
per. "Here it is. With the tele-—.
phone number. You'll come tco
see him?"
"Yes."
Marcella was the first of Joce—
lyn's two guardians to return ,
She let herself in quietly with he**
own latchkey to find the largos
room beautifully filled with flow—
ers by Kent's constant orders anc3
with the sloping light of a wann
April sun. Marcella went straight
over to her shrine and shut her—
self in.
While she was kneeling ther*
she heard Jocelyn come In froicn
the other end of the apartments.
Before Marcella revealed her owtn
presence she partly opened th«e
leather doors, drew back her cur—
tain and for a long Instant ot>—
served her daughter unaware.
The girl stood near a vase o—f
red roses and bent above them aa
pale and wistful face. With on e
of her fingers she doubtfully ca
ressed the flowers. It seemed Uo
Marcella that this child was oili
er, thinner and more vexed wltrh
thought.
What had the girl been thinfc;-
ing of during the past two weekss
to make her look like this? Perr
haps it had been an error fco
leave her so alone with her halG
scared, half-ecstatic thoughts.
Marcella came out quickly aas
though to remedy her mistake.
Jocelyn caught at her breatMi,
cried out a stifled word, turnead,
and in a tremor of relief ran So
her mother.
"Oh, I didn't hear you come Lm.
Oh, Mother, I'm so glad. CousMn
Sara left me this morning."
"I know. It was the day and
the time of day when I had eat
pected her to leave you. I see mo
reason for hysteria, darling. I
am glad to see you. Is FeL_ix
back?"
Jocelyn's warmth fell baack
upon her own stormy soul like a
wave from a rock.
"He will be back tonight. I h=ad
a message."
"His flowers are beautifui."
"Yes. And, Mother, he sent rme
this." Jocelyn touched a band of
emeralds at her throat.
Marcella at that came closer
and examined the jewels. She fcoo
passed a finger across th»eir
splendor. She looked at them *or
a long minute. Jocelyn saw tl —lat
a flush crossed her face.
She must have some painful or
some happy association with erm
eralds, the girl thought.
"Excellent taste, Felix has. Mt's
most becoming to your skin amnd
eyes," said Marcella evenly, "mow
I will go in and change, TTell
Mary to serve us tea. I want to
see your clothes. Is everything
ready?"
"I will talk to you about tlhat
when you come back," Joce lyn
said quietly.
Marcella turned at the door,
holding it half-open to look at
this quiet speaker.
But when she came back icn a
trailing tea gown of gray s-silk
Jocelyn waited on her with s*uch
daughterly sweetness, poured «and
served her tea with such lowely
docile hands and sat so
in the windowseat thereafter,
that the tyrant's suspicion - was
reassured.
"Did you like Cousin Ssara,
Jocelyn?"
She's rather a darling, But
hard to know. She is so deaf and
so fearfully busy. I never kmew
that any one could be so ejscit
ed over clothes."
"You aren't excited about
trousseau?" >
"I love pretty clothes. I I~lave
a red dress that you will lov«e to
see me in." She added wit h a
slow drag to her words, £tra~nge,
startling to her mother's ear.
"That is, if you can love mae In
anything."
"You are reproaching me, J oce
lyn?"
"I don't think so. But yon did
tell me not to look to you for
warmth of feeling."
"I love you, my dear, TYouf
husband will love you cmore
warmly, is quite natural and
right. But I am, after all, ryour
mother." Marcella held out her
two long hands and her dawugh
ter fell at once on her kmees,
drew them to her and hid her
face upon them.
"Oh, please love me. Wmrm
ly. A lot. And, Mother, •don't
let Felix marry me so soocn. I
want—before we are marrried,"
her eyes came up, flaming, wet,
magnificent, "I want before we
are married—to love his kisses.
"He is very kind and he ias the
first man to love me. That imeans
so much in my life. It amoves
me deeply to be loved by a man.
And he is strong and handssome.
I like his strength and his ttiard
ness and his gentleness too me.
He is always so clean and -wears
such nice clothes. But, Mcnther,
I do not understand why It Is that
when he kisses me—really Ucisses
me—l have this horror of rhim."
Marcella spoke with authority,
in an even voice. "Why can—t you
trust me, Jocelyn? I haves told
you already that this horr-or as
you insist so absurdly, so cshlld-
ishly, so ignorantly in calling it
Lb perfectly natural, that It will
some day explain, translate it
self. If you are fond erf Felix,
admire him. trust him, like his
touch, that is all you need to
feel. But your reaction is, I am
perfectly certain, the right one."
"And have you ever felt—that
a lover's kiss might be a sort of
—of ecstasy?"
Marcella stood up with abrupt
ness. Her face was flushed.
The telephone rang; a question
from the dressmaker. While Joce
lyn was answering it Marcella,
glad to escape those eyes, went
in to dress for dinner. She would
see Felix alone, talk to him, warn
him.
Marcella had her opportunity
that same evening to diagnose for
Kent's benefit the state of mind
of his betrothed. Felix came in
while they were at dessert and
Marcella asked Jocelyn to leave
them alone over their coffee af
terward.
Marcella explained her uneasi
ness to Felix Kent. The man's
(air regular face flushed first,
then clouded.
"You mean she wants to put
me off, to delay the marriage?"
"You must remember, Felix,
that it is you and I who have
tried to hasten matters. She
never disputed our original date,
you know. It was a mistake, I
think now, to press any change,
to hurry her. It is difficult for
you, and even for me, to under
stand the mind or the moods of
a young girl, convent bred and
entirely innocent of all emotion
al experience, even of the warm
Intimacies of family life."
"Jocelyn," Felix interrupted, "is
not cold."
"Far from it. For that very
reason love is more difficult for
her. She feels, she will feel in
tensely. But it is not a facile
nature. It will not be easy for
her to express this intensity. It
will not be easy for her to let go."
"You are probably right," Fe
lix concluded. "But my instinct
Is to smash through, to break
down that conventual barrier of
her will against mine."
"You would lose her."
"Perhaps. But I like—" Felix
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pondered cloudily, "sometimes I
like to take chances, you know.
There's something of the gambler
in me."
Marcella opened her eyes upon
him suddenly in a fashion that
fairly frightened him.
"If you were a gambler, Felix,
if I thought you were a gambler,
you should not have her—not un
less you killed me first."
The cold gray woman had
spoken as though fire were at
her heart and Felix came to his
feet. "My dear Mrs. Harlowe, I
am not a gambler in any evil or
literal sense. We are all gam
blers in one way or another."
In a mood of calm, of almost
cold self-possession, Jocelyn went
two or three evenings later to see
her father for farewell. Oh, she
would see him again and often
certainly. She would tell her
secret to Felix; one does not keep
secrets from one's husband; and
get his help and sympathy for
Nick. This visit would be the last
one she would make in secret.
She had freed herself, it is to
be seen, of any sentimentality
toward Jock Ayleward, even of
that sentimentality of an over
emphasized dislike. She had
freed herself too from sentimen
tality toward Nick; but not of her
affection. She would carry him
away from Jock, from the degra
dation and obscurity of this as
sociation, from the misery of his
present humiliating circumstance.
In this mood of fiery deliver
ance did Jocelyn Harlowe in one
of her own gowns—for Lynda
Sandal had been condemned to
death—approach her father's new
abiding place.
The respectable quarters gave
a first turn of the screw to Joce
lyn's imperturbability. They were
to her taste so pitifully second
rate, so much less endurable
than the shabbyier and more ad
venturous setting in which she
had found Nick before; a dreari
ly clean lodging, the second floor
of what once had been a private
house downtown and far over on
the west side.
Nick was obviously ill at ease
in its stiff ugliness but also just
as obviously proud to receive her
in a room of respectable clean-
liness, newness and unsullied
past. There was no sign of Ayle
ward's presence.
She had removed her hat and
coat and Nick was staring at her.
Instead of answering her ques
tion he scowled. "So you are Miss
Jocelyn Harlowe tonight, are
you?"
"No," said Jocelyn qulskly,
scenting trouble In the air, "al
though you once said you would
like to see me again with sleek
hair and in an eevning dress. But
to you I am always Lynda San
dal."
"I suppose you are. You would
hardly, except by accident, expose
Miss Harlowe to contamination.
Isn't that It? I see you don't like
the new apartment much better
than you did the old one. I'm
afraid, my dear, that living up to
you Is Just a stretch beyond us."
"Nick! I think this beautiful
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and much, much pleasanter. And
nearer for me, too. May I see
your other rooms?"
Bent Into the likness of her
first fearful glimpse of him he
hobbled through double doors
into a large bedroom and show
ed her a bath and a dressing
room beyond.
"Are you well again? Jock
told me you'd been sick with pain
and fever."
"I'm well. Come back and sit
down and ask me about my
symptoms and my finances. Isn't
that what the Lady Bountiful
does when she visits the poor?"
"Father! You have no right to
say such a cruel thing to me."
(Continued Next Week)
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