Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 297, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 December 1912 — MILDRED IN VENICE [ARTICLE]

MILDRED IN VENICE

Did Things Not Strictly in Accordance With Mater’s General Principles. ? , BY IZOLA FORRESTER. "I don't see why it woold Ti». (Wrong—" began Mildred. "I don’t say it was wrong to do It. t mid it would be decidedly outre. Otherwise not in accordance to the mater’s general principles, and you mustn’t do it.” Mildred turned from the lofty embrasured window with a sudden distate for the Grand canal, and its (businesslike gondolas. They had been In Venice two weeks, and already her •very heart strings twanged a song of home longing. Seth regarded her placidly. The family knew that only Beth cou|d adequately care of (Mildred in Venice. He was plump and, normal.-'and thoroughly Indolent It •was as If some one had tied an anchor to a gay little aeroplane, and after two weeks, the anchor was surely dragging. Bren Seth realized that much. "When will mother get here 7” She did not' wait for the answer. “Not until next Thursday, you know she won’t, Turner. And tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. Do you suppose that I am going to sit around this decayed, moldy, miserable, dismal old palace with you and eat oily messes on Thanksgiving day. Well, I won’t, do you understand. I won’t do It.” “He won’t have any turkey, child,” murmured Seth, kindly. “He’s only a poor devil of an architect trying to ■wallow all of Europe on about fifty per.” » y ■ “I’d rather be that than doing Europe as a girl bodyguard." "Strike!" grinned Seth, sitting up.' “Why not? Lord knows you need a bodyguard. Anyone who wants my Job can have It.” “Seth! I think brothers are awfully fussy.” “They're the down-trodden of the earth.” , -

“Won’t you go over now and call on him? His blinds are up." ( "You ought to be ashamed of yourself for watching his blinds. I’m not going.” * , “Don’t. HI Invite him myself, then, but I’m going to eat* the nearest approach to turkey I can find tomorrow, and have Carl Devereaux for dinner, and If you don’t like It, you may go and stuff table d’hote trash With the Spencers.” "Here goes me,” groaned Seth. "What'll I tell him?” “Tell him we are Americans, and lonely, and we want him to come over and talk home things.” The door closed noisily after Seth. Mildred waited a moment, holding her breath at her own temerity; then laughed and returned to the window overlooking the canal. It was sunset. Half #ay down the old palace where they had secured rooms, was Carl Devereaux’s studio. The blinds were up. And while she stood there, he came to the-window, and lounged up on the broad sill, smoking, and watching the bank of red and purple clouds idled up behind the somber old skyline out towards thl islands. r Seth’s gondola was near there. Suddenly Mildred saw a figure of a man outlined for a moment behind Devereaux. The next instant the body of the architect pitched downward from the window Into the waters of the canal. Her clear shriek clipped the air like a bullet, but Seth, laay, easy going Seth, was already on his feet, his -coat half off. He slipped Into the water like a seal. “He didn’t rise because there are stone steps there, and at high tide they’re covered. The devil knew It, too, and figured on his head, striking them.” Seth spoke In a low tone. On the couch In his room lay Devereaux, two English doctors working over him. "We’ll keep him here, if you don’t mind, Millie. American, you know, and all that I’m going to stand by.” “And how you dcolded an hour ago. You old dear thing. Did they get the fellow r Beth shook his head. “They’ll get him at the wharfs. He’s a Sicilian. He cheated Devereaux yesterday In a deal oyer boat fare, and got punched. They don’t understand a punch heire. He was getting even, that’s all. The doctors say he’ll be laid up for a couple of weeks, and I’m going to see him through. He’s one of my frat men. Beat me out of Harvard by four years. Seems a nice sort.” Seth was frowning, and talking In a deep voice, as he always did when he was covering any of his own delinquencies. But Mildred smiled, looking over at the head on the couch pillow. It meant something to this stranger to have Seth Turner for a "frat” pal. The doctors were leaving. While Seth talked to them in the vestibule, she leaned over the face on the pillow. He had turned in falling from the window, and had struck the •tone steps on his shoulder, throwing ft out of Joint, and bruising his whole body badly, but his head was unhurt, and he was conscious. “What did they do with the boy?" His voice eras low and rather husky, j "He hasn’t been taken yet" "Hope he gets away. He only followed his own instinct the same as I did In punching him yesterday. 1 won’t enter a charge." "Seth has, though." He closed his eyes at the swift pain that ran like liquid fire mOag his nerves. *

“You’re both good to me.” . “Because you’re one of our own Beth was on his way to see you when tt happened.” “Why?” A little crooked stone curved his llpa “I am not a celebrity In Venice. Travelers do not usually pay me calls, of ceremony.” “Well, to be perfectly frank.” Mildred sat down beside him, her chin on one palm, the toe of her slipper swinging, "I wanted Seth to go over and Invite you to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, hoping that you’d know., where we could get a turkey." He opened bis eyes and looked at her. “I have watched for yon at your window every day since yon came here. Your head makes a spot of red gold against the old wall casement Did you know that your hair la like Titian and Da Vinci put on their women?” Mildred laughed. '1 know what Seth will say if I let you talk, and your temperature runs up.” “Why do you drop red roses down In the canal?” . “Ships of empires, outward bound. Anybody’d guess that I freight them with hopes, and let them sail due south." Seth took possession of the patient, and far Into the night there sat a little, lonely figure at the great old stone casement, looking down at the gayly lighted canal, and the rooms that were dark where Dqvereaux had lived. - She dropped no red roses Into the water that night Two weeks later Carl found her out on the balcony. Behind them, Seth and her mother, who had Joined them from Paris, entertained American friends. , 'T followed you on purpose,” he said. “I haven’t had a chance to speak to you the whole evening until little Kreppels left you to play hi» 'cello solo.” “Don’t you love that?” She lifted her f§ee, eyes half closed, to catch the first thrilling cadences of Chdpln’s "Nocturne in E Flat.” Devereaux plunged hardily, gathering both her hands to his lips. “I loive —you,” he breathed. "I am going back home with you next week. Do, you know why?” “But you mustn’t, . You have two years mote to study here. Oh, Carl —” the name came before she could check it. "Don’t be foolish. Don’t throw It all up, Just to follow me home to the states. Don’t you Jmow—” K “Know what?”

“Don’t you know & girl wants a man to be a winner?” Her eyes, clear dark eyes that never wavered, searched him. ’lf you reaUy care for me, stay and fight” “I can come back and finish ftp afterwards.” “After—” "We are married.” She was silent. He drew her nearer until hls cheek rested against hers. “Do you care that much, dear?” Presently Seth pulled aside the heavy curtains at the window. "You two are missing everything,” he called. “Directly. Seth, directly.” retorted Devereaux, * cheerfully. "Mildred was Just deciding on Venlop for the wedding." (Copyright, 1911, by the McClute Newspaper Syndicate.)