Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 243, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 October 1919 — The Fisher Caught [ARTICLE]

The Fisher Caught

By LINCOLN ROTHBLUM

- (Copyright. 1»1». by th* MoCluro Newspaper Syndicate.) In the parlance of matchmaking mothers Victor Lawton was a “catch” worth angling so the more desirable slncehe exhibited no inclination to be caught. Divers were the schemes mothers of daughters, ready to consider - a "career,” Invented to entice the wary fish Into the matrimonial net. For indeed Victor Lawton was a most desirable specimen of prospect Ive husband. He was tall, but not too tall to seem towering with a short companion. He was stocky, but by no means fleshy. He was of gopd family, but came from neither blue blood nor yellow. He was a lawyer of sound reputation and good business acumen, while the definiteness of his Income from a few select clients compensated for their lack of number. And that he had personality is attested when the fellows dubbed him “a bully chap” and the girls—well, the girls thought him “too handsome for anything.” “And so,” Mrs. Van Dusen, leader of the town’s upper set, complimented herself, "I have done well to squeeze from his good-looking lips a promise to be present at your debut tonight. The rest, iny darling daughter, is up to you.” x And she extended her hand toward a pretty and sophisticated thing of twenty in an “I’ve done my monnar “My name Isn’t Cecile Van Dusen,” came the reply with a rolling of big, hazel-colored eyes in the prescribed fashion commonly known as “vamptng.” —SosayTng^she^trTppedacross the soft rug on tiptoe and’ imparted a slight smack on her mother’s cheek,, making a pretty application of powder. “I hope so,” answered the elder woman in a tone that did not reflect her daughter’s confident assertion; ■“but we must keep Madge out of the way as much as we can.” “Your fault again,” chided Cecile, who, modern-like, never lost an opportunity to censure her mother. “When we thought she was going to get married a month ago you shouldn’t have refused—though we didn’t know who it was.” ~ "Hush. Cecile.” chided Mrs. Van Dusen gazing quickly at the door to see if they had been overheard. “I promised your father when he died to care for the child of his first wife. And I shall do my duty.” “However painful it may be,” finished Cecile, “only as relieved by the appropriation of her inheritance.” -. Mrs. Van Dusen cast an appeal for silence as Cecile laughed out loud. ■“Bad thing to have a conscience, mother,” she stated, wagging her head emphatically, “but If I catch Victor Lawton on my line,” she added, materializing the hope by the execution of a dizzy pirouette, “I’ll—why, I’ll let you come and visit us sometimes.” Mrs. Vap Dusen took the seat before a low dressing table and gazed at herself from the triple-reflecting mirror. A new wrinkle pear her lips brought another to her forehead. “I’m afraid we may have to take Lawton into our confidence. As he was a, warm, friend of Mr, Van Dusen hemigh£be will!ng 10xy.mUy.stjmsfek. en out ntir financial tangle I have notAnd fiirther confidences were drowned in the buzz of preparation. Such a bustle and hurry as the Van Dusen household saw! Such a scurrying around and multiplicity of orders ! The telephone never ceased with instructions to caterer, florist land musicians. The doorbell sounded one continual alarm as delivery after (delivery was made of mysterious bags and boxes bf eridless size and shape, whisked away to various rooms as rapidly as they came. . The great grandfather clock in the hall had scarcely chimed nine as Mrs. Van Dusen, resplendent In an evening gown of black -satin, brocaded with giant figures of black jet, descended the stairway to take her stand near the Entrance. Cecile followed, her daring costume of garnet-tinted voile, hooped with bands of similar toned velvet, setting off strikingly whiter shoulders, exquisite as chiseled marble. The stream of guests commenced to flow and kept up a steady influx until the huge house threatened to become inundated with the flood of people. Mrs. Van Dusen hatj already begun to feel a pain in her right arm similar to writer’s cramp, but, undaunted, she held her post until she heard the butler’s stentorian voice: “Mr. Lawton.” All the social training Mrs. Van Dusen’s mother had instilled in her and all that she had In turn transmitted to her daughter was brought into ‘play, and it would have required a far more worldly wise young man than Victor Lawton to have penetrated the thoughts behind the hostess’ engaging smile. - —» To Cecile he offered his arm, and they passed into the drawing room, the center of which had been cleared for daubing, and to the strains of a ' soft, mystic melody emanating from a stringed orchestra cleverly concealed behind some palms they circled the smooth floor. With her own purpose and her entangling financiering in mind, Cecile shortly complained of the close atmosphere and led the way into

a tiny alcove which had formerly done service as desk space for her father until night thlevee had broken in and stolen valuables locked In the escritoire, their presence undetected owing to the seclusion of the corner. Cecile had chosen the location wisely. “And as you make your entrance into society,” ventured Lawton by way of conversation, “I had hardly anticipated how charmiiig a debutante you would make.” Cecile smiled. Womanlike she liked compliments to be paid her, and never sought the motive prompting them. But his remark was her opportunity. “Oh, 1 have other worries besides my coming-out.” Lawton laughed. “Yes, I have,” she reiterated, “for now I must get married.” And in the sophistication of her twenty years Cecile modestly dropped her eyes; knowing how lovely her long lashes appeared resting on her cheeks. Lawton shuffled his feel-uneasUy-and ran bia finger around tho inside-of Ills collar. Decile was sitting perilously close. “Well, why not?” he ventured. Cecile pretended to be taken by surprise. “Oh, I could never find anyone who could understand.” “What is there to understand?” questioned Lawton, nervously, glancing at his watch without seeing the time. Cecile was anticipating her enjoyment as she rehearsed for her mother how cleverly she had managed—not only to win Lawton, but secure his assistance in unraveling their financial knots. “Oh, money ’n everything," she answered in a whisper; trying to convey her trust and confidence. “Money? How so?” “We haven’t all the income we seem to have.” r Lawton switched around to face the girl squarely. “Your half-sister —can’t she contribute ffmti her inheritance?" Cecile “fidgeted; “There's the trouble,” she answered in a lighter vein, to appear as if the matter were a light one. “Mother has been borrowing from Madge’s Inheritance, and —well, we thought you might help to straighten out the tangle.” “So—borrowing from an inheritance, eh? What's the deficit?’ “Practically everything.” “Thank you.” Mr. Lawton arose with an air of finality. “We needed this bit of evidence to abrogate your stepfather’s will.” Mrs. Van Dusen, having intuitively sensed danger in her daughter’s prolonged absence from the center of festivities, swept into the scene, her features puckered with reckless disregard for wrinkles. “What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded, having caught the tail end of his words. — “By a secret codicil to your husband’s will,” he informed her, “the estate reverts to his daughter, Madge, if her* inheritance is misused by her trustee.” Mrs. Van Dusen sank limply onto the divan. “But what —What have you to do with all that?” “Only this: Madge and I were married a month ago.” As in a dream Mrs. Van Dusen heard Cecile murmur, “The fisher caught!”