Indianapolis Times, Volume 36, Number 307, Indianapolis, Marion County, 7 May 1925 — Page 16

16

CHICKIE

Chiekie (Helena), only daughter of Jonathan and Jennie Bryce, feels a bit lonesome since Mary, her chum, has married Edward MePike, and refuses Jimmie Blake's proposal only because he is poor. Chick ie attends a party given for her by wealthy Jake Munson, friend of Jauina Knowles. Though Chiekie now loves Barry Dunne, a young lawyer with Tutfts & Lennon. she Is Interested in Munson. He sends her a costly pin with a love note. She lies to Barry about the pin. Upon her tequest, Jake arranges so her father does not lose oil his oil investment. Jake'tells Chiekie lie considers Barry's feeling a boy's love and that he will be waiting when Barry has jilted her. Chiekie fears the fate that befell Stella Wilson tie cause of her lengthy engagement and subtly tries to urge Barry to think of their marriage as a present possibility, even though he believes no cannot afford it. He Is hopeful when I!a Moore’s father expects to engage him to represent locally the Gu'f Steamship Company of San Francisco. Chicklo knows Ila loves Barry and she is uneasy. Barry promises to love Chiekie always, but their honeymoon plans are thwarted when Moore lets the proposition slide. They spend their vacation at Hake Wawasee 00 ON WITH THE STORY By Elmore Meherln He answered with a short, rough breath: "No—life is hard." "Why do you say that?" "It is!” And he was still searching here eyes, bending down to her —he drew her to him, his heart thumping. It knocked against her. "It’s hard, Chiekie! I love you. Txirdee! I love you.” The pallor of hte drawn face, so near to hers held her motionless. "As much as that, Barry? Do you really?" "Chiekie—oh, Lord!” She put her hands—both of them, hard against that furious pulsing. She gave a, little astonished cry. He wound his arms about her, holding her rigid. She said breathless: "No ■—don’t.” But he moved his lips over her face. He said harshly: "Chiekie—what are we to do! Tell me Lordee, Chiekie, what are we waiting for?" She shrank from him: sank to the sands, burying her face In her arms. A terrible weakness that throbbed and half fainted passed about her. He let her cry. After a while he came over, kneeling beside He took her hand gently with a quiet: "Is this the way you feel about me, Chiekie?" "Barry—you break my heart.” He stared at her, his young month grim and reckless. "Why? Because I love yot/? Ts that such an awful sin? What have I done that’s so terrible, Chiekie? Let you see that I love you—that I want you now and not some day that may never come? What’s awful about that?” He laughed bitterly. "We have no right to want each other. Moore isn’t ready! I haven't the money!" From the depths of a throbbing suffocation she pleaded weakly: "Don’t talk like this, Barry. Oh, you mustn’t.”

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"But I feel like this. Chiekie. Thte is the way I feel. 1 can’t stand it —that’s all." A deathly chill wrapped down over the pressing heat. She took his face in her hands. "Then it isn't love, Barry?'’ Little, bitter movements went about his lips: "No—by the Lord! It's the devil." * • • f '' _| LS hand as he helped her to IT—ll her feet was like ice. The Ls look on his face so gray and still frightened her. He said nothing at all. When they reached the cottage, he turned to her a moment, a look beseeching and anxious like a prayer in his eyes. He waited till she crossed the porch. She heard his steps going down the gravel path. She listened, fearful, as to some compelling and terrible music that in its growing faintness carried he,- heart from her. She lay awake that night, the look of drawn suffering on his face passing again and again before her like a pale, unhappy ghost. Suddenly she sat up, the night air blowing chill .on her bare shoulders. She remembered with a stab of terror that she had turned from him hastily when his eyes caught her with that look of eager pleading. And be had gone without saying a word. With the memoi-y, a wildness swept through her. She saw herself stepping from the bed, running down the gravel path—calling him back, tugging at his sleeve—holding him. Overpowering fear crept about her. What could he do? Where was he? She wanted to get up and go stealing to him. If she had only put her arms about him. If she had only phispered softly, holding his head against her heart. Sh • wanted to do that. She would do it! The longing and the pity of the afternoon came over her faint and hot. Then she heard his voice low and harsh: “What are we to do, Chiekie? Tel) me that ’’ She cowered down in the lied, staring at thi thousand stars glow ing with quiet silver In the dark bosom of night. Oh—he didn't mean that —he was excited—he was unnerved— He would take it all back In the morning. The sun would he out. They would dash into the cold water— She put her arms over her face, dosed out thoughts—closed out echoes. They dropped into her heart. heavy and alive. They stormed there.

Barry tells her that circumstances compel him to leave.

She shrank from meeting him again. CHAPTER LIV The Breach (“ZT") EFORES Jennie was stirring l D next morning Chiekie u. stole from bed. She felt a shakiness all through her as though each nerve vibrated with its separate fear. She pinneJ a note on the kitchen stove: "Jennie, darling, I forgot to tell you that your angel child is having breakfast on the shore. It’s all the rage. Give Jonathan ten kisses and my share of bacon.” She went softly down the gravel path, rushed along one moment by her tormented anxiety; held back by a shrinking reluctance. When she saw him through the willows, sitting in the boat motionless as though he had been there all night, her he.-f' leaped. He waited quiet like the „ray morning —a part of the chill, austere scene, the gray waver and the gray mists, hut half parted by the sun climbing dimly over the hills. She began to run. She touched his shoulder and laughed. Then her eyes filled, seeing his face so white; his mouth set, yet trembling. Without speaking they removed on the cool hay, dragged the boat to the beach. He made a fire, gathering sticks and papers, snapping the branches of a dead tree. Then he set the coffee on to simmer. When the bacon wreathed with pungent fragrance about them and he had succeeded in frying two of the eggs without getting them black or sooty he took a wooden plate and offered them to Chiekie. He made her look at him, his eyes humble and pleading: “Chiekie, are you angry with me? Do you want never to see me again?” “You hurt me so. Oh, terribly ” “I know, I’m sorry. Don’t hold It against me.” Her laugh broke forth, happy as the breeze: “I knew you didn’t mean it. Why, Barry, I was sure of that.” He lapsed into moodiness, breathing heavily. She pushed a little mound of sand toward iiitn: “Why are you looking so black?” “I’m not so sure about things, Chiekie —about anything I don’t know how you feel, hut this se*>ms ghastly to me—putting everything In the future. Letting others tell us how we should feel and when. One way you look at it it’s sordid. It’s making a slave of yourself. It’s calling emotions shameful and they are nothing of the sort! It’s making our feelings mark time to our purse and they won’t do it. And it’s degrading to ask it. It’s putting money first and love second. We shouldn’t have to do that. I’ve always felt so!” “And if you look at it coldly, what’s the sense of it? We may he dead in five or six years. Heaven knows we ll never love ea- h other more than we do now. Then why is it wrong? Why does it seem so terrible to you? It’s not to yo”.’’ • • • S’ 1 HE looked into her coffee cup. The sun now triumphant, I___| made a little whirling light on Its dark surface. Her eyes blinked. She tried to speak, but her chin, doubling up. tricked her into silence. He was looking up to her and waiting, a restless, strained supplication on his inouch. He said hurriedly: “Don’t look so, Chiekie. Don’t feel so bad. I’m only talking. I keep loving you and wanting you more and more and I can’t see what difference any hokus-pokus third party is going to say over us will make. It won’t make our love any righter. It can’t! It’s as right as the sun—as the rivor flowing down here to meet the oceaji! ft is to me”— Seeing the pretty eyes he liked so well, shutting, tears spattering into her coffee, he movad up and sat beside her: took the cup from her hands: “Chiekie, listen; why so melancholic? Lt me rant & little. No sin In that. Chiekie, you don’t know how sweet you are—how, even sitting here near you—oh, well—l can’t help that. Look up—Dt me see your eyes please. You're the only girl—yes, you are—l love you. I can't see why I shouldn’t—can't see why Moore r.nd his plans should stop me. You’re not going to cry, Chiekie? Don't— . “But we’re funny things, aren’t me? With our little conventions stuck up like imbretlas to keep us dry against the ruin of another’s disapproval. Look at these minnows—how idiotic now ls they should suddenly organize to make life unbearable for each other; to put a taboo on freedom and happiness; to pass a law ordering minnows not to dart out of the water at sundown; not to snatch insects for food! What’s the difference? "If the world said it was all right for two sweet, brave things like thee and me to live and love, you'd feel quite different, wouldn't you? And this redhead wouldn’t be the black beast huh?" "I don’t think that, Barry—l

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THE INDIAN AFUJLIS TIMES

don’t want to think that, I lay awake all last night ” “Thinking hard th ngs of me Chiekie? Did you?” "No—loving you." He pressed her hand, turning his head swiftly from her. "Chiekie, listen—l won’t trouble you again. You're too sweet —that’s the trouble —well ” • * * Hr" '| E became buoyant, losing the furious resentments. He t___J poked ip the Are, heated the coffee for her and taking the cup she had held, threw out its contents with a merry: "There go the dear one’s tears! Dry 'em!" Her spirit caught the fervor of his. They ran into the water, and when they -swam he pulled her down and kissed her. "Another sin for you, frail. Like it?" They went for a long row, laughing when they were unexpected l }' stranded. But when it neared evening and he wanted to know what plan she had for the night she said, not meet ing the eagerness in his eyes: “Barry, we’ve had such fun today—l'm awfully tired. You know, just for a change, I think I’ll go to bed early." He said quietly: "Y’nu're think ing of last night, Chiekie." She glanced steadfastly at the water stirring up a little whirlpool with her bare foot. “Is that it. Chiekie?" "Well—but isn’t It better this way. Barry?" "You mean that it’s safer. Ts that it. Chiekie? But ls you hegin to in this manner you’ll end by saying we shouldn’t see each othei at all. It will come to that! It will, Chiekie! Is that what you want? Do you want that?" He stood at her side, holding her arm, speaking in a rapid, hoarse tone, that made her wish to close her eyes, lean against him. shut her ears. She said, entreating: "Don't! Barry, go on like this." He said in a low whisper: "If you want this, Chiekie, you ought to say It.” Bhe answered in a half sob: "I’d rather die." But she didn’t meet him that night nor the next. Monday morning they rowed to a bend in the bav and here the willows high and slender came down to the water's edge. They pulled up their boat and after a little swim, lay on the sands in the soft, mellow sun. When she took off her cap. he turned his face away. She could see the strong curve of his neck, his well-set, shapely head. "You turn your back on me. Mr. Red?" "You’re the one that does that." "Oh, no, I don’t." "Yes. And what did I do that’s so unforgivable? What, Chiekie?" She traced her name in the wet sands. "I think you’ve made me afraid, Barry.” "Because I love you, Chiekie?" "I don’t know—oh, I don’t know " "I can’t help loving you, Chiekie. There’s no way out of that. I can't put my feelings in a vacuum for the next five years.” She asked, forlornly his question: “What are we to do. Barry?" “I suppose I’ll have to go. I don’t see any /her solution the way things ar ali shot to pieces now.” He looked at her then, his eyes dark and furious and demanding, but his voice scarcely audible: "Do you want me to offer this. Chiekie?" She sat motionless in an attitude of broken resignation. She leaned back, resting her weight on either

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hand. The sun made lights in her hair. •* Seeing this and the plea unspoken or her lips, his heart burned. He crept upward, put a hand an each of hers, pressing them into the wet sand. “Chiekie—listen: I can’t do this. Must I? Oh Chiekie. this is murder. Thte is killing a thing in us that has a right to be. No matter what you say is right or wrong, this is an unholy thing to do!’’ "Don’t, Barry: T can't stand this. You don't —Oh, please!" She lowered her head, hiding it against his arm. He gave up then. He pushed his 1% ni M AM M Yk (a, fA■•AI. Ats ■Ji Al*IA lal

Seeing this and the plea unspoken or her lips, his heart burned. He crept upward, put a hand an each of hers, pressing them into the wet sand. “Chiekie—listen: I can’t do this. Must I? Oh Chiekie. this is murder. Thte is killing a thing in us that has a right to be. No matter what you say is right or wrong, this is an unholy thing to do!’’ "Don’t, Barry: T can't stand this. Y’ou don't —Oh, please!" She lowered her head, hiding it against his arm. He gave up then. He pushed his hair clean from his forehead, shielding his face from her. After a long while he said, heavily, a thing that froze her to the soul: “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it ought to end now—” She wanted to cry out: bind him fast to her. But she held her heart breaking in her hands and watched him go. CHAPTER LV The Parting. f '"1 HE didn't think that he would | | go—never dreamed that he L'*'* could mean It. When she saw him coming up the path, dressed for the train, snappy and buoyant in gray suit and knitted tie, she stole from the porch along the path leading to the hill top. She heard Jonathan's astonished: "Why lad—going?" And his answer: “Y'es I’ve got to. Tufts sent word. Is Chiekie around?" Jonathan called. Then Barry, knowing perhaps, pushed through the shrubs and overtook her. She saw his face: there was no buoyanee In it. "Lord. Chiekie—don’t you even want to say good-by?” "So you're going. Barry? Oh—really”— The vital, impetuous face looked at her in hot. silent accusation. "Ts there anything else for me to do? I don’t see it!" "You're cruel." "You force me to it." A little hysterical laugh: "Barry, you think Just distance will make any difference? It won’t to me! Oh—l can't make myself stop now " He said with passionate contempt: "Well, it’s safe, Chiekie!" She turned agains't the s.ip'ing tree, covering her face with her arm. He came over and turned her to

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him, put her head on his shoulder, wiping her eyes with his hand: “Chiekie. don’t! Tell me anything else we can do. This seems frightful to me. It's cowardly. We love each other. That ought to be enough. I've said this—l’ve told you. An 1 now, after all we've said- ill we've felt"— Her thought melted, a warm anguish flowed through her veins. She felt the sun, streaming about them in a flood, hot, overpowering. She wished that she might die there in his arms; make him hold her so until the life went from her. She said weakly: "You won't go—Barry." no—leave me now?" He answered bitterly: “Y'ou’re crueler than I, Chiekie. You don't know it. But you are!” The grimness of his mouth hurt her. She began to tremble, swept by her terrible pity and longing. She put her hands against him, the blood fanning in a hot tide from her heart. She was afraid and whispered faintly: "Oh!” After a moment. “Y’ou better go.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright Kins Feature Syndicate)

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