Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 37, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 February 1919 — The Thirteenth Commandment [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Thirteenth Commandment

By RUPERT HUGHES

CHAPTER XXV—Continued. “That makes no difference.’ 'Daphne stormed, already converted to the shop religion. “Customers must not find the door shut. Run opeu lt iit once. Suppose Mrs. Romilly dropped in. * We'd lose her —unless this notoriety drives her awgy.” A little blush of shame flickered. ;in Daphne’s pale ch,eeks a moment and went out. She sighed: “1 suppose Mr. Duane has stopped that check, too- —if he ever sent it. Oh. dear!” Then -a nurse k nocked; hroughtUtt. a card growing in a large little azalea tree. Daphne scanned it “Mr. Thomas Vartck Duane!” She peered closer at the pencilings and read aloud: “‘I just learned. I’m heart-tn-oken. Isn't there anything 1 can do?’ ” Daphne felt as if outraged society had forgiven her. “Isn't he a darling?” she murmured. Mrs. Chivvis begrudged a stingy, “Well, of course —’’ She had the poor folks’ conscientious scruples against wasting praise on the rich. “You’ll want to see him. I presume." But Daphne had had enough of evil appearance. “See him here? Never!” —She glared at poor Mrs. Chivvis with a reproof that was excruciating to accept, and ordered hex to .go down and meet Mr. Duane and Incidentally learn about the check. “Business is busishe said. Mrs. Chivvis descended in all the confusion of a Puritan wife meeting a Cavalier beau. She came back later to say that Mr. Duane was really very nice, and spoke beautifully and had sent the check and would send another If Daphne wished it, and would make old Mrs. Romilly go on with the order, and would she like some special fruits or soups or something? He .. was really very niCe.— --- ——- Daphne eyed her with ironic horror and said, “You’ve been .flirting with him! and me so helpless here!” “Daph!—nee!! KfpH!” Mrs. Chivvis screamed. The only counter-thrust she could think of was, “And what does Mr. Wimburn say?” This sobered Daphne. Why had Clay sent no word? Everybody else in town had seen the papers. Clay read the papers. Surely he was not capable of such monstrous pique. When your worst enemy gets badly hurt you've just got to forgive—if you’re human.

CHAPTER XXVI. Leila was •determined to endure -everything that might be necessary toregain her beauty. She would go through any ordeal of knives or plaster casts or splints or medicines for that She was quite grim about it. Her resolution extended to the spending of as much of Bayard’s money as might be necessary on surgeons’ fees and doctors’ bills. If she bankrupted Bayard it would be with the tenderest motives. Five times she went to the operating table, made that Infernal journey into etherland. knowing what afteranguishes waited her. what retching and burning and bleeding. She hraveiL death again and again, took long chances with "And all for Bayard’s sake. # One morning, when Bayard reached his office after a harrowing all-night vigil at Leila’s side he was just falling asleep over the first mail when his telephone snarled. He reached for it with alarm. A voice boomed in his ear: “Ah you, th ah?” “Yes.” “Keep the line, please. Now, you ah through, sir?” Then a growl replaced the b00m,,, a growl that made the receiver rattle: “Ab you thah, Mr. Kip? This is Colonel Marchmont. I dare say you remember our conversation about those damned contracts with Wetherell. A little farther discussion might not be amiss—if you could make it perfectly convenient to drop ovvah at, say. a quawtah pahst fah? —Good! I shall expect you at that ah.” Bayard pondered. What new persecution was fate preparing? As he went to the office, 'he bought an evening paper. A heavily headed cablegram announced that the laborers in the British munition works were striking or threatening to strike. A gleam

of understanding came into Bayard’s eye. When he reached - "the desk of Colonel Marchmont he Rooked unabashed Into the revolver muzzle of the old war horse’s one eye. , • Without any preliminary courtesies or any softening of his previous tone the' colonel snorted: "Those devilish contracts you made with Wetherell— The poor fellow is no longer alive—more’s the pity, but— Well, I’m afraid I was a bit severe with you. I fancy we might see our way to renewing those contracts at a reasonable figure—say at a 25 per cent reduction from the terms you quoted ” ,* Bayard smiled and shook his head. He bluffed the bluffer. “The prices we - quoted included only a fair profit, colonel. Since then materials have been going up id price every minute, owing to the demand, from Abroad.

And the home market is booking. We can sell ail our product here, and more, too, than we can make.” ' Colonel- Mnrchmont squirmed, but he was a soldier- and loved a good -eminU-x-a+tttek-.—He smiled - nw~'He squirmed. Wethqcll . was avenged when his successor signed new contracts at a higher price than he had made. The changing t lines changed everything; yesterday’s exorbitance was today's bargain. Bayard departed with a wallet full of business. lie got b:tck to his office onfeefflwlged-wlthMeretrrtniwings. His feet were beautiful on the rug of t hepr eshl ent's -officer" Bayard felt so kindly to all the world that he hurried to the hospital

to scatter good news like flowers over Leila’s couch. She was in that humor when anybody else’s good fortune was an added grief to her. ‘Tin no use to you now,” she wailed. “I never was much. But at least I dressed ai :d kej looking fi t. —And you said I was pretty. But now — Oh, Bayard. Bayard! You used to call me beautiful, and I tried to be beautiful for you. But now— To be ugly and useless both—it's too much !” ~ Wise pathfinders say that when-you are wandering in strange country you should turn every now and then and look back at the way you came. It wears a different aspect entirely from its look as you approached, and you will need to know how it will look when you return. - From childhood on, Leila had been warned against extravagance —as Bayard had. as have we all. But only now that she was looking backward could she realize the wisdom, the intolerable truth of the adage, “Waste tnotr-wagt^ndfe^^ —— Meanwhile Daphne was having so different a history that she felt ashamed. It seemed unfair to her to get well quickly and with no blemish except a scar or two that would not show, while Leila hung between death and deformity. , But seeing Bayard alone and hearing Leila fret, she felt confirmed in her belief that she had done the wholesome thing when she joined the laboring classes. There were- discouragements without cease, yet Daphne was learning what a remedy for how many troubles there is in work. It seemed to be almost panacea. It was exciting, fatiguing, alarming, but it was objective. She was on her way at last to that fifty thousand a year she had dreamed of. She was uncertain yet of earning a thousand a year, but she was on the road.

Clay Wimburn, seeking chances in the West, did not see the New York papers or any other record of Daphne’s accident. When he got back to New York, his pockets full of contracts, Bayard, equally successful, greeted him enthusiastically. Then he learned of the accident and the fact that Daphne was “in trade.” He was Indignant at the news and wanted to see her at once. Bayard gave him the address, and Clay wasted no time askingfnrther questions. He made haste to the subway, fuming; left the train at the Grand Central station and climbed up to a taxicab, . 1 . Then hefohnd Daphne. She led him into a little shop empty of everything but the debris of removal. “Where are we?” said Clay. “This was my shop.” “What’S the matter? Busted already?” Clay asked, with a not unflattering v “Not in the least,” Daphne explained. “We’ve expanded so -fast we had to moke. We sublet and t moved across the street . ,“YoU remember Mrs. Chiwik, don’t you? Mrs. Chiwis, you haven’t forgotten Mr. Wimßurn. He’s kept away

so long you might have, though. Where’ve you been. Clay? But wait — you can tell me on the way over to the new shop.” —~ When she led, It Im into her new emjTffrluin ’Hie"graceful fabrics displayed were all rbd rags to him. ’’He was a bull in a crimson shop. Daphne made Clay sit down and asked him if it were not all perfectly lovely. He waited until Mrs. Chivvis went on Jo the workroom. He had a glimpse of a number of girls and wome on sewing bent. They were laughing and chattering. - - - He answered, “It’s perfectly loathInstead of resenting this insult Daphne laughed till she fell against the counter. The worst of It was that her eyes were so tender. “Where did you get all the capital for all this stock?” Clay demanded, with sudden suspicion. “Oh. part of it we bought on credit and part of it on borrowed money.” “Borrowed from whom?’ “From Mr. Duane.” This whs too’ much Of too much. Clay stormed: “I’ll get him!” “Oh, no, you won’t!” “Oh. yes, I will!” “I won’t have you assaulting the best friend I’ve got' in the world.” = He groaned aloud at this, not noticing how she used the word “friend.” She run on. —She had not talked to him for so long that she was a perfect chatterbox.

“He lent me five hundred when I didn’t know where else to get it. And it nailed our first real contract —a big commission from old Mrs. Romilly. We paid back Mr. Duane’s five hundred and then —” She giggled in advance at what was coming to Clay. “And then I borrowed a thousand from him. We owe him that now." M Clay was as wroth as she had wished. He took out a little book. “Well. I’ll give you a check for that amount —or more. And you can pay Duane off with interest. I won’t have you owing him money.” “You won’t have I” Daphne mocked “You won’t have? Since when did you become senior partner here?” “Senior partner!” Clay railed. ‘Tm no partner in this business! I hate this business. It makes me sick to see, you in it.” “Then step out on the walk,” said Daphne. "You’re scaring away customers and using up the time of the firm. The boudoir is no place for you, anyway.” A young woman with a bridal eye walked in and Daphne left Clay to blunder out sheepishly. He did not see that she cast sheep’s eyes after him. He was a most bewildered young man. He had made a pile of money and still he was not happy!

CHAPTER XXVII. In the course of a few wretched days Clay picked up some of the facts about Daphne’s presence in Wetherell’s fatal car. He was more furious at her than ever and more incapable of hating her. knew little and said less. One afternoon he invited Clay to ride with him to the hospital, whence Leila was to graduate. He warned Clay not to betray how shocked he would be at Leila’s appearance, which, he said, was a wonderful improvement on what it had been. She was, indeed, a mere shell, and Clay was not entirely successful with his compliments. Leila sighed: “Much obliged for your good intentions. I’m a mere sack of bones, but I’m going to get well. The doctors say that if I take care of myself every mintite and go to a lot of specialists and go to Bar Harbor in the hot weather and to Palm Beach in the cold and spend afiout a million dollars I’ll be myself some day. That’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got to work for. Poor Bydie! He didn’t know he was endowing a hospital when he married me.”

“What do I care, honey?” Bayard cried, with perfect chivalry. “The money is rolling in and I’d rather spend it on you than oh anybody else.” "The money’s rolling out just as fast as it rolls in.” Leila sighed. “The Ijord seems to provide a new expense for every streak of luck. And that’s my middle mime—Expense." . She had actually learned we lesson. That was a hopeful sign. Clay sought Daphne in her odious (to him) place of business. She asked him what she could sell him.. He said he would wait, till the shop closed. She raised her eyebrows impudently and gave him a chair in a corner. He sat there feeling as out of place as a strange man in a harem. Eventually the last garrulous customer talked herself dumb; the last sewing woman went. Mrs. Chiwis pulled down the curtains in the show window and at the door and bade good night. - Then Daphne locked the door, dropped wearily into a chair, ” and sighed, “Wen. Clay f vT “I want to know why you don’t give up Tom Duane.-”- . ‘ " ’ She shrugged her excellent shoui-

dors again, but she did not smile. She spoke Instead: “I don’t ask you to give up yolir stenographer.” -•“Oh, it’s like that, eh? Well, then, why won’t yon let me lend von nioiiev" instead of-Tom Duane?’ Her answer astounded him with its feminine logic: “I can borrow of Mr. Duane because I don’t love him and never did and he knows it. I can t borrow of you because —” He leaped at the implication: “Because you love me?” "Because I used to.” “Don’t you any more?” he groaned. ‘Dow can 1 tell? It’s been months and months since I saw the Clay Wimburn that came out to Cleveland and lured me on to New York. The only Clay Wimburn I’ve seen for. some time has been a horribly prosperous, domineering snob who is too proud to be seen with a working woman. He wants to marry a lady. I never was one and don’t want to be one. I’m a business woman and I love it.” “And you wouldn’t give up your shop for ine?” ‘‘Certainly not.” He looked at her with baffled emotions. She was so delectable and so obstinate, so right-hearted and so wrong-headed. It was intolerable that she should keep a shop. He spoke after a long delay:— y—“May I come and see you once In a while?” “If you want to.” “Where you living now?” ."Still at the Chivvises’.” “You ought to take better care of yourself than that. Surely you can afford a better home.” “I suppose so, but it would be lonely anywhere else. It has been safe there —since you quit calling on me. It doesn’t cost me much.” "But you’re making so much money.” “Not so very much—yet, but it’s all my own and I made every cent of it, and —golly! how I love to watch it grow.” —7 - “You miser.”

“Maybe. I guess that’s the only way to save money —to make a passion out of it and get a kind of voluptuous feeling from it. But I really think that it’s the fun of making it that interests me most. It certainly keeps me out of mischief and out of loneliness. Oh, there’s no freedom like having a job and a little reserve in the bank. It’s the only life, Clay.” “And you wouldn’t give up your ‘freedom,’ as you call it, even for a man you loved? Couldn’t you Iqve a man enough to do that?” "I could love a man too much to do that. For where’s the love in a woman’s sitting around the house all day and waiting for a man to come home and listen to the gossip of her empty brain? That isn’t loving, that’s loafing.” Clay was not at all persuaded. “But there’s no comfort or home life in marrying a business woman.” “How do you know? You know plenty of unsuccessful wives who are not business women.” "I wnht a hbusekeeper. nbt a shopkeeper.” . . “Go get one, then, I say. If a womaTTfcan’t earn enough outside to hire a housekeeper let her do her own housework. Bui if she can earn enough to

hire a hundred housekeepers why should she stick to the kitchen? In my home, if I ever get one, the cook win not be the star. Besides, it enlarges life so. Instead of two living on the wages of one two will live on the earnings of two. It. seems to me it couldn’t-help being a better and a happier way of living.” Clay blushed vigorously as he momt hied “What’s your business woman , going to do when the—the babies

come? Or do you cut out the kiddies?” Daphne blushed, too. “Well, I should think that the business woman could afford, babies better than anybody else... SBC has to gi ve up ffie housework, anyway, even when she’s a housekeeper. I suppose she could give.up her shop for a whllek At least she could share the expense—or her husband could stand the bills since he escapes the pain. I tell you, if I ever had a daughter I’d make her learn her own trade if she never learned anything else. I’d never raise her to, the hideous, indecenEhelief that the world owes her a living and she’s got a right to squeeze it out of the heart’s blood of some hard-working man. No, sirreei It maybe old-fashioned, but it Isn’t decent, and it isn’t even romantic. The love of two free souls, with their own careers and their own expenses, seems to me about the best kind of love there could be. Then both of them can come home evenings and their home will be a home —a fresh, sweet meeting place.” Clay breathed hard. He was silenced, but not convinced—-beyond being convinced that Daphnb Kip was still the one woman in the world for him, in spite of her cantankerous notions. Still, of course, a woman had to have some flaw or she would not be human. Daphne’s foible Was as harmless as anyone’s, perhaps. So he blurted out: “I suppose yon’vogiven up—all thought of marrying me?” She answered him with pious earnestness: “I’ve never given up that thought, Clay. I’ve been trying to make myself worthy of the happiness it would mean. I have had the trousseau all made, and paid for, a long while. .That’s what I came to town for originally—our trousseau. But when I saw how much sacrifice it meant for my poor old father'and what a bundle

of bills I’d be dumping on my poor young lover I couldn’t see the good of it. So I took my vow that I wouldn’t get a trousseau till I could earn the price of it myself. And now earned the price and I’ve got it. But I’ve lost my excuse for wearing tt. “Still, I’d probably have lost you, anyway, or ruined you if I had brought you my old ideas. Everybody always says that money is the enemy of love. I wonder if it couldn’t be made the friend. It would be an interesting experiment, anyway.” “Daphne, honey, let’s try the experiment.” - She looked at him with a heavenly smile in her eyes, and answered, “Let’s.” He movetT.toward her, but ~she dodged behind the counter. She studied him a moment, then reached below the counter. A bell rang and a drawer slid out. She took some bills from it, made a memorandum on a slip of paper, and put that in the<place of the tills, closed the drawqrj, and leaned across the counter, murmuring: “They say all successful businesses are begun on borrowed money. So I’ll borrow this from the firm —for luck.” She put out her hand. Clay put out his. She laid three dollars on his palm and closed his fingers on them. “What’s all this?” he asked, all mystified. She explained: “A plain gold band costs about six dollars, and that’s for my half of the partnership. Women are wearing their wedding rings very light nowadays.” “I should say so!” Clay groaned, but with a smile. She bent forward and he bent forward and their lips met. She was only a saleswoman selling a customer part of a heart for part of a heart, but to Clay the very counter was the golden bar of heaven, and Daphne the Blessed Damozel that leaned on it and made It warm. THE END.

Wetherell Was Avenged When His Successor Signed New Contracts at a Higher Price Than He Had Made.

“It Seems to Me It Couldn’t Help Being a Better and a Happier Way of Living."