Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 7, Indianapolis, Marion County, 19 May 1925 — Page 12

12

CHICKIE

Chlckle (Helena), only daughter of Jonathan and Jennie Bryce, loves Barry Dunne, a yungr lawyer with Tufts & Lennon. Wealthy Jake Munson, friend of Janina Knowles and Amy Heaton, send Chiekie a costly win with a love note, and arranges so her father d*s not lose on his oil investment Jake tells Chlckle he considers Barry's feeling only a boy’s love, and that he will be waiting when Barrv has iilted her. Chiekie fears the (ate that, befell Stella Wilson because of her lengthy engagement, and at Bess Abbott's wedding subtly tries to urge Barry to think of their marriage as a present possibility, even though he believes he cannot afford it. He is hopeful when Da Moores father expects to engage him to represent locally the Gulf Steamship Company of San Francisco and wires for him. Chiekto knows Ila loves Barry and the thought of her seeing him again chills Clnckie with fear. In Barrv s absence. Mart's brother. Jimmie Blake, renews his attentions and she ehuddres at his faith in her. Barry returns with the deal unsettled. Chiekie fears her mother has learned her secret. Mary's opinion of conventions causes Chiekie to auurrel with Barry. O© OI WITH THE STORY By Minors Meherln "Not mad now, Chiekie? Ah, you don’t hate me any more? —’’ "Well—but I don't know—” “All right then—l know—” "Oh —but three days—” "Yes—and it's not going to be four- You don't want that, do you? rjsten, Chiekie, you were the one who ran away. Weren’t you now—” She touched his hand, pleading. She would have been content to walk on like this always. Just that he was here; just that he had come to her and that now a lightness and warmth ran singing through her n rves. • * * ETFB was sweet again; the world a happy place. The two of them —only that —She felt him tall—supple, swinging along at her side, now and then looking down with a laugh. Once he said: “Cat comes back, frail —glad?" There had never been a jov to equal this. But when they sat at the table, she felt a pang because he had a strained, pale look and his red hair was so brushed back that his eyes seemed large and anxious. He said eagerly: "Chiekie. were you going (o let it end like this?” "Could it end so, Barry? Oh. would you have wanted that?” "Does it look like it, Chiekie? But I want to know how' you felt. T want to know if you really intended to let it go.” She wouldn’t answer. She evaded. "You let me go out of the restaurant, and you knew I was beside myself. You had only to put out your band.” He answered somberly: "Perhaps you don’t tecall what you said. You said it as if you meant it. And if you do. I’m not going to put out my hand .c, stay you. No —not even now r . If you meant what you said, ChicUfc—you can go” He went on saying things that frightened her. that took down the joy that had arisen. "We have to settle this. No two ways about that”—— Sho asked, faintly "What did I 6ay'(” Hooking at him, -she saw the resentment coming hotly into the young boy’s eyes. "I have the gains! You said that. So, I’m satisfied” Color splashed vividly through her cheeks. “Did you mean by that. Chiekie, that you never wanted me? You don’t care, and it’s all on my side? AU to please me?" "No—not. that —no” "Well, what?” "Nothing—don’t oh, I didn’t mean that. I was excited. You see—” Her face grew tense, imploring, vivid with her emotions. She told him of the play and how it had shaken her; how she fancied herself in the girl’s place. Then spoke of Mary and things Mary said. His hand? trembled. He reached over and took hers. "All this means that in your heart, Chiekie, you think it’s wrong. You’ve thought that from tho beginning. You’re sorry and so you blame me” "No—l don’t care. Now I know that I don’t care. Don’t look at me so!" * * * B” UT his eyes were full of passionate doubt and hurt ; “If you loved me enough, Chiekie, and felt that it was right, you’d be fearless about it. You aren’t. You let everything that Mary or Jennie or anyone else says beat you. The first thing we knowwe’ll be flying at each other’s throats!” "No! Oh really, I feel different now. And this won’t last always, will it, Barry? We’ll soon be able—?” He dug his chin in his palm. With a pencil he made endless stars on the tablecloth. “I don’t know. Moore’s in town. They’re not doing a thing with the coast line —”

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She sat motionless, her heart bounding. He went on: “They won’t do anything this year. I’m to blame, of course. I never should have gone back that time to the river. Arrogance! It wouldn’t have happened. You’d be happy. No use harking back now. Well—you don’t have to go on! My mother’s in the hospital, Chickiie! I had to borrow SSOO from Tufts. I didn't tell you before. Didn’t want to worry you. Well—l don’t know where I get off or when—” He glanced at her wi It swift, beseeching humility. -She said, her voice ad toneless: “You mean it’s farther away?” “Well—l don’t know—no nearer —.” And when she said nothing to that: “You see, don’t you? Say something! You won’t? You think it better end? That's your answer, is it?” She put her hands over her face. He got up quickly and held her coat. “You do! Let’s get out of here. You feel that way?” It seemed to Chiekie that he was running reckless; plunging her headlong. That it was dark. But she followed. There rose in her a, strange resistance to his haste. She felt a thing pulling her back; a sudden laxness; a wish to drop behind; to call out. “Oh, well, all right, then, you go on. Leave me here! Let it end!” She put her head down—hurried. Seated in the car. lie turned a blanched face to her. He saidabruptly: “You’re right! I suppose so." She shut her eyes, moving toward him with a sound half laugh, half cry: “What do you mean, Barry? Oh, foolish! Can I go back now? You know I can’t. Oh—these three days.” He pressed her hands. "But you can’t stand it, Chiekie. ' It’s too huni for you. There’ll be things again—” ‘‘No—no! Oh, It's too late now, Barry. We have to go on. Oh, I do! No matter what. Oh, if you should end it—” He stooped down swiftly and kissed her. He said ardently: "No! T won’t!” CHAPTER LXX. New World "pT" T if there were just the two n bs, Chiekie, and we Jwouldn’t let the world inter-fere--think how swset —not a ripple eve •—” “Thei-e is the world ” She upoke in a dream, contented now—watching pale ladies woven of fog, hurrying through the trees, vanishing delicately in the somber lanes. “We can’t shut the world out so. And there aren’t just the two of us ” She wasn’t measuring her words —scarcely heeding what she said. Their import came upon her starkly, like a ruffian lurching suddenly from a doorway in the shadow—came at a moment when she was laughing and defenseless. Not ready for the world They went to the library. He was looking for a book. Chlckle loitered in the alcoves, glancing aimlessly over the titles. She heard a soft.

Puzzle a Day

The linoleum in the square room "A” was taken up, recut, rematched and cemented to the floor of an oblong room. When this was done someone counted the squared of linoleum in the room and discovered that there were 65 squares Instead of 64 squares. As no new squares had been added, every one present tried to account for the extra squares. How was the linoleum cut and rematched? Last puzzle answer: Brown had $10,500 and Willis had only $7,500.

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She and Barry patch up their dificulties after their quarrel.

impatient sigh, and turning saw Besa Abbott, with an air of great resignation, pull down a heavy volume. She said merrily: “Oh, still alive, Bess? T thought we had you all settled in that nice ivoty coffin!” "No—still shuffling along in this weary coil! I’ve decided to linger a while longer. You see, I’ve discovered myself, or rather Professor Molino discovered me!” The brown eyes glinted. "Wonderful, my dear! Perfectly thrilling to wake up at twenty-two and suddenly learn that one possesses a soul—a-brain. Here T was destined to be a great philosopher and from the cradle they allowed me to waste my gifts on clothed and teas and bridge. No wonder I've died a thousand deaths.” "Don’t look so astonished, my dear. I'm rational. I’ve been psychoanalyzed. That’s all. I paid $2.50, revealed all my suppressed desires, my wild longings, and in return I’m told that I'm intellectual. I must cultivate my brain. Here I am! “Isn't that exciting? Fancy a man staring at me, cool as ice, and saying: "My dear Mrs. Stoney, you're bored! You have money, too much of It. You have friends, leisure, love. But you aren’t satisfied. Why? Because. Mrs. Stoney, you have a brain. It clamors for nourishment.’’ She rattled on In this glib monologue. delighted when Chlckle, incredulous and fascinated, exclaimed: "You don't mean to say that you went to this strange man and told him all your secretest thoughts, and even things you feel and wish for?” Bess raised her shoulder with an amused sniff: "He tells you—tears your past to tatters. I got off easy. Why. my dear, the grilling he gave Ethel Chadman! Fancy Ethel psychoanalyzed into a job! Punching a time clock because Professor Molino says, ’You’re going to seed. Your energies need outlet. You’d make an excellent business woman. Don’t lose another week—go down and get work, It it’s standing behind a counter.’ And Ethel goes! "Well, here comes your steady—oh, by the way, why don't you two come out tomorrow night? I’m having Basil Arthur give a course of lectures”—she sighed languidly—“all in the course of finding a soul, you know. But he’s good. We’re starting with Plato. You'll like that. Red, I’m having a number of brows present to lend atmosphere.” Chiekie accepted with impulsive delight. She said childishly when Bess was gon*: “Isn’t that otherwise, though? Isn’t that capricious like—turning philosopher over night! I’m glad we're to go.” He grinned. "Bunki Idle dame —nothing to do but pamper herself —running around paying some clever crook two and a half to tell her she's a useless parasite. Plato—well, leave it to fools to march in where angels fear to tread.” Chlckle dismissed him with a flippant: “That for a lordly male and a cynic!” She was stirred —alight with eagerness. Boss and her world were captivating. • • • mHEY went. Machines were parked for a block about the house. "Idiots! We're crazy, Chiekie, to waste the whole evening. Let's not go in!” "Hush—the idea! I wouldn't dream of missing It!” They were late and took chairs near the door of the library. The room was crowded. The speaker, standing behind a table, had an absent, negligent air—the look of a poet or an ascetic In hfs broad forehead and long slender nose. He spoke in a voice so low its sound was scarcely audible. He went on like this till a deadly hush spread over the room. Then sentences boomed. The mere volume and wealth of sound caught Chlckle with a thrill. She listended spellbound, not bothering to follow the drift of the talk. Plato—oh yes—pupil of Socrates—a Greek—she knew this

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from her high school history. When the lecture was finished she knew little more. But she said to Barry: "Wonderful—such a voice!” Her eyes shone. He answered, tense, "Like it, frail? Say—good, wasn’t it?” Now there was a pleasant stir—then an animated rush of talk—then Bess and several others thronging at the long table and Basil Arthur with a slightly contemptuous smile holding court. Barry said: “Well —show’s over. Come again next w r eek—eh?” “I’d love to—l like this!” And Chlckle w'as glancing about the wide room, noting the tapestries—the walls lined with books — And someone stood behind her. Someone said in a voice that was soft like water: "Oh, Miss Bryce —what a pleasure! We philosophers meet now and then.” Chlckle turned with a start. She knew the blood flew Into her face. But even in her confusion she saw Barry’s forehead stain. She said, holding down her sudden excitement, “Miss Moore —I’m glad. You’re here for all summer?" “Not that Jong.” Ila Moore—beautiful —an air of nobility about her—her skin whiter —eyes bluer—so it seemed to Chlckle in a quick stab of fear. For Ila Moore began to talk. “The lecture really penetrating, wasn’t it?” And she turned to Chiekie with comments that Chlckle didn’t quite understand. Barry answered. And all at once Chiekie grew hot and uncomfortable. She smiled—made a few struggling remarks. Then she listened, her cheeks painfully red. N Ila said: “Well, I suppose we’ll meet again, next week? I’ve often thought of you. Miss Bryce. And we do look alike—you know! Only you’re prettier.” Chiekie laughed. “And 1 you’re deeper!” '■ "I’m not sure about that.” She turned to Barry, saying calmly, in her clear, soft voice: "We see you tomorrow' night?” "Yes—that’s so!” He answered swiftly, his face half turned. But his lips trembled and he cast a hurried look at Chiekie. He knew that she had heard. * • • SIIEY got Into the car. Neither of them spoke. Chiekie’s pulses raced. They made her breath light—uncontrolled. For blocks they drove In silence. Finally he said, “You’re thinking things.” She bit her lips. Tears stung hotly at her eyes. He said, resentfully, "You are, aren't you?” She said, pitifully, "Can I help it?” “Yes,” said Barry. "I’m going to the Moore's for dinner tomorrw night. Her father asked me. I met him the night ~you ran away. I didn't care. T said I’d go.” She made no comment. "Well, you’re angr ??" He stopped the car and stared at her. "Don’t you believe me?” "Don’t—oh, don't let’s quarrerl again—yes—but now—you don’t need to go now. do you?” "Well—well—you mean T should ring up Moore and tell him I won’t come? Why? You don't trust me that much?” "It Is not that—" “You want me to call it off T can't do It. I’d make a fool of myself. I’ve known these people for years. Moore is a big man. I’m not going to give him a slap. It may come back at us later," he went on. Justifying himself. His words were littlftignails driving cold Into her mind. She said: "Oh, all right, then—go. You can’t help it.” He took it lightly: “Honestly, Chlckle? You don’t care? Why should you? Listen, frail—l’ve met girls, haven’t I?” She said—and laughed: "Oh. my, yes—and you so brilliant; and you so handsome! But you weren’t going to tell me, Barry—” "Listen—l guessed how you’d feel. What was the use?” She pulled him down to her. She

said again: “All right—kiss me.” The next night she sat in her room and tried to read. She kept seeing Ila Mooore—kept wanting to rush out and fling herself between them. She felt a dread —it was colder than Jealousy. (To Be Continued) (Copyright. King Feature Syndicate)

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