Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 54, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 July 1925 — Page 12

12

CHICKIE

The Sequel to

Chickie 'Helena), now 22, is the only daughter of Jonathan and Jennie Bryce of Indianapolis. To start, life anew after her child dies and Barry Dunne, her sweetheart, jilts her, to marry wealthy Ua Moore. Chickie jroes to Chicago for employment. Sarah Dillon, the Abbott sisters, Amy Heaton. Stella Wilson, Mary Blake McPike. Janina Knowles and ■wealthy Jake Munson are Chickie s home-town friends. Jimmie Blake, a childhood . sweetheasf. who still loves Chickie, accepts a position in Honolulu. Chickie refuses the friendship of Edear Manx, fellow boarder at Mrs. Daisy Brack. Eloise Maxwell. Betty and Doris Ordin and Bobby . Jones work with Chickie in the office of tVorp Wiilmrn. Chickie sroes to lus Winnetka home as companion for Barbara. his dat ghter. Lee, his son, loves Chickie and paints her portrait. 'Their sister Edith (Mrs. Dirks Potter! secretly loves Timmy, an actor. Sht stops the elopement of Barbara and Paul Scott and speaks contemptibly to Chickie for aiding them. Barbara's father consents to the marriage. Chickie is to be bridesmaid at the wedding. At the rehearsal. Myra King suddenly recognizes Chickie as the girl who came with Barry Dunne to Be.ss Abbott's philosophy lectures and tfflls Edith of Chickie's past liie. Edith secretly orders Chickie to leave and interferes with Luis Lamarck’s plan to accompany her home. In desperation. Lee leaves when Chickie confirms the story. Norp Willman looks broken when Chickie can give him no clew to the whereabouts of his missing son. Edith Questions Chickie and strikes her when Chickie accuses Edith of infidelity to her husband. Davs pass, but Lee is not found. Eloise meets Chickie and asks why she Quit her position. GO ON WITH THE STORY By Elinore Meherin 'l’ll say you have queer Ideas, girl. Turn the dear boy over to me. I’ll be at his beck and call any hour he wishes.” "He may be dead, Eloise.” “T-ikely not. We have It figured out otherwise. Os course, we count you in on it. We figure that he called for a showdown from Mrs. Potter and the old man, told them he was going to marry you. They wouldn’t come through, so he left In a huff. He’s hot as fire, you know. He may be drowning his 6orrow or he may be punishing them. Why don’t you come in and get your things?” ‘I will.” “Well—so long—don’t grieve too much.” Chickie walked on, found herself again opposite the Italian church. She went over and entered the garden. At the side door of the chapel an old, furrowed woman, her skin hard and brown as soil, stretched out a lean hand. She raised imploring eyes: “Vera poor—vera poor—” Chickie gave her a dime. She Baid: “May I go in?” The old woman noddded: “Sure—sure!” She stood In the back of the church. A young woman with clear features and very beautiful dark eyes stood before a statue. The girl had a child in her arms and raised it upward. Then she bowed her head and prayed. There came such a look of faith and trust in her lowered eyes. Chickie wondered. As the girl passed she blocked her Way. She touched the baby’s hand, saying: “Isn’t it pretty!” “Oh —you think so 9 ’ “Very—are you teaching it to pray so early?” The girl smiled: "Not too soon—l give her to Mary—Mary the Mother of God —she take care—take care of her —” Chjpkie walked over and stood before the statue. It was robed quaintly in blue and white. Candles burned before it. She looked at it a long while, seeing a sweetness, an eternal youth and sadness in the features. It moved her—ah —to feel as that girl did that a spirit leaned down from heaven and watched and cared and guarded! She did not feel so—had not felt so in months and months. Yet suddenly she dropped on her knees. She prayed. She asked that this tragedy would not be put upon her. It was dim within the quiet church, the candles and the flowers a soft brightness like holy smiles. The place was filled with peace. . Going out Chickie's eyes were wet. She bought a paper. There, for the first time in three days was an item —the item she sought. CHAPTER XXV The First Milestone Five days Chickie had awaited this word. She had lived in the dread of it. Imagination tortured her with visions of a lifeless form lying face down in the shrubs. She

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hid from this Image as from a doom. If life put his death on her hands she would be vanquished. Now, ip the blessed relief, she stood on the corner holding the paper before her. Her eyes blurred, but such an uprush of joy in her heart as she had not felt in fifteen months. Like a complete and gentle absolution —like a special mercy of Providence. Lee Willman was not dead. He would not die. So near he had come to it! But Chickie did not loiter over this, She caught the threads of hope. She was almost in tears because of the weight and terror dropping from her thoughts. The account in the paper was evasive: “Lee Willman, missing for the last five days, has returned to his home in Winetka, suffering from a gun shot wound, it was learned today. Considerable mystery surrounds the disappearance and the shooting. “Norp Willman, oil magnate, and father of the boy, states that his son set out last Wednesday on a sketching tour. He is alleged to have lost his way in the hills and, attempting to retrace his steps, fell into a ravine. The pistol, which he habitually carried on these trips, is said to have accidentally discharged, inflicting the flesh wound in the left side. A. E. Stokes, farmer, who found Willman soon after the accident, was unaware of the young man’s Identity and of the fact that searchers were combing the country for a trace of him. “The physician in charge reports the wound not serious. The police have definitely abandoned their investigation.” Finishing that account, Chickie drew such a deep, audible sigh of gladness that a little woman in a white, duck skirt looking at bargains in the store window, glanced up and smiled. Chickie said eagerly: “Isn’t it a lovely day?” She tucked the paper under her arm and hurried. The mad honking of automobiles; the narrow, crowded streets dazzling under their golden sun and the girls in bright sport dresses pouring from the buildings, took on a festive air. Faces seemed open and friendly. Chickie had a wish to smile at people; to thank someone because a great kindness had come to her. She wished that Mary Blako were walking at her side; that she could say: “Oh, Mary darling—if you could only know —” At the entrance to the tunnel she stopped for a chat with the bent old women selling her papers. They had become friends. Chickie said gayly: “Hello, there, Julie! How’s the luck today?” Julie motioned for Chickie to wait while she made change for a blustering, excited man. Then Julie shook her head. Immense tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. “Cora’s boy has the diphtheria, Miss Chickie. She’s lost two already—” “Oh —nobody dies with diphtheria today, Julie. Don’t you worry!” Then Julie wanted to know if Chickie were sure, and did she think they could save the lad? Cora was her daughter . . . one of those magic people forever followed by misfortune. Her husband was a brakeman. He was killed. Two of her children died the following winter with the “flu.” She earned her living as a janitress. She had only this one little son left her. Chickie said; “Oh, he won’t be taken . . . I'm just sure—” and she was Just then so full of trust in an unseen goodness that she could have squeezed her heart and offered its thankfulness to any one who needed. Julia wiped her eyes. “Nice in you to stop, Miss. Will you be inquiring tomorrow?” Chickie dropped a dollar In Julie's hand and wouldn’t stop for the change. . She went Into the back yard and called to Wildie. He went leaping to his corner and came with the leash in his mouth. And they walked so quickly, with such a spring, that the dog perked his ears in a lordly, strutting way. He jumped up once to give her a hasty lick with his tongue. Chickie laughed —a long, bright laugh. Wildie stopped and began pawing with his front feet. He did this whenever he became excited. Now his deep, shiny brown eyes were full of inquiry, as though he said: ‘Ho —out for a lark, are we? All right if I wag my tail?” Chickie caught his neck and shook it. Nights and nights he had walked along, moodily, sensing her quiet, rubbing his flank against her dress. A hundred times she had been warmed by this comfort. Tonight she was touche! by the selfless devotion. She ran when he pulled too hard —then she called for him to stop. They reached home breathless. For the first time she felt a lightness in her heart. But, going through the hall, she found a letter In the rack. She paused, studying the envelope, though she knew It well. It was from Norp Willman's office.

Puzzle a Day

LLSWLLTHTNDSWLjL This jumble of letters Is really a common verb, but all the vowels have been left out. Study it a while and then see how quickly you can find the right vowels to complete the proverb. Last puzzle answer:

tl

If the confectioner had cut as shown in the Illustration he would have made the largest possible squares.

Chickie Learns the Girls at the Office Know She Was Sent from the Wedding

With a still foreboding she took it to her room. Inclosed was a check for the salary due her. The note was brief. “Dear Miss Bryce—You will find herewith the money due you. I have formally to advise you that your services are no longer required. “Very truly yours, "ROBERT LOWNEY.” It was not the brevity of Willman's efficiency expert. It was the initials “E. M.” in the corner that struck with such shame into Chickie’s mind. Eloise had typed the letter. Eloise knew of the dismissal when she met her; when Chickie had said so airily: “Yes —I’m quitting—l don’t find it pleasant to be at the beck and call of the Willman family.” What else did Eloise know? They had heard rumors—all the girls In the office were surmising. They would read the papers tonight and they would have more to say. It occurred to Chickie that she knew of her abrupt dismissal from Winetka. They had heard that Edith ordered her out. She folded the check slowly, a little sneaking despondence wearing into her mind. She said simply: “I’ll never get anywhere. I never will.” She went over to her window. The fading light had always such a breath of holiness about it and the clouds were silver. She traced their wings of gauze. And she wanted to cry just out of pity for herself. She wrote her name on the glass, shook* back her head because the tears were there, but they weren’t going to fall. She wrote her name again ;this time, just "Helen.” She thought quietly and It was of the night she had stood in the dim room. Lee Willman raised the candle till its soft, amber glow suffused the shadowed image—face of a girl with the beauty and sadness in her eyes—Chickie’s face. He had turned to her all flame and eagerness: "The spirit of the room —the most beautiful thing—you, Helen!” But she was not that. And he could not bear the piercing disillusion. She wondered now if she had done him such a wrong. If he or any one had such a right to ask a special beau y from life and if they nad a right to fling up despondent hands because they were denied. There had been a time when Chickie issued such an ultimatum. Life must come sweeping in glory. It must, Indeed. Oh, she would never be refused. Now she knew that she was but the faintest murmur in the eternal song that sweeps the centuries. The chords she uttered might be lost; the song would thunder on. She might raise her voice and fill out the mighty chorus. Or she might sink away and whimper because the tune struck not to her fancy. She had thought of this —oh, wished to hide away like that. Now she knew that this was but the coward’s part. And sadly it occurred to her that what he did was the selfish thing—though the blame of it was hers. He had turned from her because she was not that pure and stainless thing. She said now, with her lips moving and moving, “I’m that! Always!” The muteness and the apathy of her first days here went stealing through her. Begin again—all over —try It another time —oh —but it would be the same—some one would hear —someone would tell. And the peace would go out of her heart. CHAPTER XXVI Chickie’s Caller Chickie opened her bag to make sure that her keys were there. Then she dumped the contents on the table and put them back in orderly fashion —her purse, a handkerchief, powder case, cards, pencil and finally the keys—all these. Still she hesitated. She was going out to register with all the typewriter companies; ask another chance. All her nerves were heavy with reluctance. Just before awakening she had dreamed. Jonathan came to her door, chuckle in his old eyes. He called: “Sleep all day, Chickie girl? Hot biscuits —smell ’em? Hurry, now!” She had stretched out her arms In glorious laziness. But In the dream it was years ago —that time when there would be a rose on the kitchen table and she would pin it so gaily on her blue suit. It was before all this. She pulled her hat down over her brows and dabbed more powder on her nose. In her heart she didn’t care about a job; didn’t want to walk out in the fragrant, uplifting sunlight. For it occurred to her after that letter from Willman’s office —the letter -Eloise had typed that she was Irrevocably pinioned to the Past. No matter what effort she made, she would be mocked. Like that nightmare that had troubled her so when she dozed at Jennie’s bedside. She had gone back searching for the grave. But no stone marked it and she couldn’t find the place. A man passed, pointed at something, then at her. Another passed who also pointed. Many came—dozens —hundreds. They began to shout: “It’s there’ Can’t you see? There!” A frantic terror seized her. Life was like that dream. She might forget drink an hour’s glad peace. But the world would point. “It’s there! Can’t you see? There!” She became agitated with her thoughts. They swept down on her Dizzy? Headache? Appetite Gone? Probably your liver Is torpid, and af a result you have coated tongue, -onstlpatlon, sour stomach and poor digestion- Vluna gets right at the seat oi the trouble, and at the same time, corrects sluggish kidneys and tones up the whole system. ..In a short time you feel like a different person—vigorous, clearheaded, able to eat without distress, able to enjoy living. Vluna has brought real health to thousands of sickly, nervous, people. Will you give it a chance? VIUNA TJte vegetable regulator

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

in an avalanche. She shut her eyes to fight them off. The scenes marched into her mind. The night in the little parlor when he had come to bid her goodby and she stood so quiet in the darkness that fell upon her heart; that hour In the restaurant when he gripped the chair, the beautifully set head lowered. Oh—and she had asked him: "Barry, you mean that we’ll be married? Is that what you mean—” Chickie pressed her hands now to her throat. She went over and sat on the bed. She was shaking from head to foot. No use to stop now. Scene by scene she would go through it to the last bitterest detail—even to the moment when Jonathan raised her In his giant arms, shouting io the coroner: “My daughter, sir! No outcast!” These lashings of memory left her limp; left her conquered. She was afraid of them. They came like an assault. She would run from them. Or she would dump out all th 6 contents of her bureau, rearranging them —anything to keep herself in a frenzy of activity. Now she wiped her face, saying sofetly: “I can’t go on like this.” She repeated this, staring at a crack in the high ceiling; then at a long streamer of dust. And she knew that she had come down here not to co-.demn, but to prove herself; that si e had left those two saddened and alone, yet left them with a mighty faith in her, their dear and only one; that at night they reached down In the dark for each other’s hand, and prayed together for her. She knew this. She picked up her purse, rearranging her hat. She said to herself, childishly: “You expected all this, didn’t you?' Cry about it! Oh, yes!” Walking down the street, she held her head erect. She looked about and smiled. Once she paused and glanced over titles In a book shop. She was thinking absently: “I feel just the same person; I look the same, but everything is different.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright. King Feature Syndicate)

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