Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 81, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 August 1925 — Page 12

12

CHICKIE

The Sequel to

Chickie (Helena) is the ony daughter of Jonathan and Jennie Bryce of Indianapolis. To start life anew after her child dies and Barry Dunne, her eweetheart. jilts her to marry wealthy Ila Moore, Chickie goes to Chicago for employment. Sarah Dillon, the Abbott 9lsters. Amy Heaton, Stella Wilson. Mary Blake MePike. Janina Knowles and wealthy Jake Munson are Chickie s home-town friends. Jimmie Blake, a childhood sweetheart. who still loves Chickie, accepts a position in Honolulu. Chickie goes to the home of her employer. Norp Willman. as companion for hia daughter Barbara. .Lee. his son. loves Chickie. Myra King recognizes Chickie and tells their sister Edith (Mrs. Dirks Potter) of her past life. Edith orders Chickie to leave and Lee attempts suicide when Chickie confirms the stc-y. , Chickie returns home with her parents and begins training as a nurse. Jake gives Chickie time to consider his_ proposal of marriage. - Kenneth Harmon, young interne, discards his fiancee, Edith Underwood, for Chickie. . , , ...... When Miss Simonds. through Edith. Jearne of Chickie’s past life, she gpomptlv expels her, out because of r. David Eamm Chickie. is cordially received at another hospital by Mrs. Ellis. Elizabeth Pruett. Chickie s nev; roommate, is grave and precise. At a concert with Dr. Ramm. Chickie again meets Barry and his wife, whom Dr. Ramm knows Mrs P '■" •!'" °hV' ■ that a girl of her reputation will . nephew. 1 She writes Jake of "the bitterness in her heart. He takes it as a summons. WITH THE STO RY By Ellnore Meherin CHAPTER LXXII The Dismissal D'"| AVID was coming down the corridor with two of the greatest surgeons in the city. A paper of his was published in the current issue of the Medical Journal, and this was yet triumph enough to give a stir to his heart. He was much younger than the other two. He had a vividness and youth about him, even holding himself quiet and Intent as now. Seeing Chickie, this suppressed glow lighted his eyes. He bowed in a most friendly way. She was bringing flowers sent to her patient—white roses, perfect and cold. When he bowed in that warm quickness, she trembled almost with a feeling of guilt. What had she to do with him and the brilliant world where he dwelt? Why should he smile at her? She was pale and moved about In a subdued way., In the night she had gone over many scenes; she had come to an aching and cruel decision .—the only one, she was now certain, for her. Not fear of this Mrs. Burdell who had, with such unmincing candor, pointed out Chickie’s place, was responsible, but the stinging of her own fierce, young pride ... A menace to others, was she? A stain on his reputation? Why—she didn't need him—nor any one! Stand alone —why!—did the world suppose she would flinch because favor and brightness was denied? Indeed! But It was not easy to take the goad. sTor she wanted joy—oh, a flower or two. And she liked It when he met her In the hall with a breezy: “Hellc, girl!” Or again: “Come here, Miss Nurse —picked up seme wicked one for ycu!” Most of all was It sweet to sit at concerts with this tall, gallant fellow who would lean down and whisper: "Beautiful — make them play it again—” She didn’t want to give all this up. Why, with Jake gone, he was about the only friend she had. Why was he her friend? What did he think of her? What would he say, now that it was ended? She debated this with many wistful regrets. That great kindness of his, coming out to the cottage to tell her about Mrs. Ellis and, of course, she could transfer. She must! Standing there with such a warm, Insistent look, yet so humble as though he were nobody much. Well—he might have done all that because he -was a great friend of Jake’s, and Jake told him to look out for her and give her a boost, that smart she was. So Jake being away, It vis the part of a friend to do this. • * • R, perhaps he had acted so j) because of a kindness that was In him—sorry for anyone who was down. He was that way—sorry for her because she was turned out and her hope cheated. That same bigness made him put his arms about her when they sat at the beach and she seemed so

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forlorn, thinking her lonely thoughts How clean and strong he was then, like the waves in the sun or like a happy morning— She mustn’t think these things. She had given up the right to dreams; to the infinite sweet glow of young-girl fancies. All lost to her. Why if she were to be happy—then other girls, very young, would shrug and think they, too, might flout the law and escape. After a day and a night, this charge of her accuser’s scorched most hotly in her brain. As though she had not paid! As though any girl with open eyes would look at her and follow on that path along the river road! Why, she had served her term like any convict. If a man forges and is sent to prison for years and these years pass, may he not return to life? May he not laugh or even kiss his wife or hold his child? But another man seeing this may think: "Ho. that fellow stole —look at him now —he is glad! I, too, shall steal!” What then? Why, let all offenders be sent to the gallows or swept into the sea—and the cringers on the shore may see the doom and play safe! These thoughts went through her with a rising bitterness. She had not escaped. If it were only that moment when she saw Barry Dunne and Ila Moore sitting together—and she, too scarlet to look In David s face; to answer when he spoke—that moment would have paid. And If it were only this moment now when she must say to this man who seemed so very fine to her; say to him that she wished to go her way alone:- She didn’t need friends or notice of warmth or gaiety—not as all. This was the note she wrote to him telling that she could not go to another concert: "Dear Dr.'David: I hope you will not think me turned suddenly temperamental and prima donna like because I take my pen In hand to indite this cancellation of all dates. But you know I can’t go to the concert tomorrow night. Well, I don t think I am going to make any excuses, for I trust you to believe that I have a good reason for writing this. You know the great Joy these evenings have been to me. I half think you’ve kept on asking me just because I was always so thrilled about them. You have been very glorious to me, going out of your way as you did about the transfer. I would like to have the power and the way to do such noble things myself. So this is to tell you that one Helena Bryce is most grateful and most honored. “But being it’s all the same to you, my very dear friend, I’ve decided. for many reasons, that in the future I must attend more to my work and to that alone. It is a better thing for me to do." She wrote this on heavy, pale gray paper, long single sheets with rough edges. She wrote in a clear, strong hand. She sent the letter special delivery so that he would get it only in the afternoon and there would be no chance to argue about It. It came to him a little before four. He thrust It into his pocket, not recognizing thd writing. Half an hour later he was alone in his office and opened it. * • • SWICE he read it before its import struck him. Than he repeated to himself. “A better thing to do,” and he saw her face in its white delicacy as she had raised it to him, saw her eyes, so deep and beautiful, suddenly filled with tears. Now, who was making the road harder for her? What had happened that she couldn’t go to a concert? And that from now 'on she must push away all pleasure—young, bright thing like her? At first he became impatient and was half Inclined to ignore this refusal. Then he remembered the last concert and the look of indignation Ila Moore had turned on Chickie. Oh —was that the reason? And she was afraid of meeting people who once had known her? No —something deeper than this. For she was brave. He had seen this. Well they would go to the concert, of course. But he stood with the letter in his hand and read again its final sentence: "A better thing for me to and What a tragic and pathetic renouncing! Did she mean that she ■was dooming herself —that she was cutting loose from all happiness? He saw her then as she had sat forward In the car that night they rode to the hilltops and she said: “We ought to be brave anyway to take the consequences we have courted; we should be glad even to suffer if this is what we need to make us strong!” Time was her creed . . . and she was going to live up to it — eliminate even friendship— Friendship—he said the word and smiled. He said the word and remembered Helena’s mouth so sweet, so chastely cut; remembered the beautiful line of her throat — Oh, what ridiculous nonsense—couldn’t go to a concert. He stuck the letter In his pocket —got his hat. This was her day off —she was at home. He would go out and see about this. It takes two to make a date — and two this time to break it.

Puzzle a Day

In 1923 there were, If you added 913 to your answer, 6 times as many postal stations in this country as there were here in 1830. But if you considered the sum of the digits in these numbers there was one more in 1830 than was in 1923. If the sum of the digits In 1830 was 17, how many postal stations were in the U. S. A. in 1923? Last puzzle answer; l®m®Q]®S(i)[D©[S(£)® Adding (the letters surrounded by squares) five "I’s” to DVSBLTY you get the above word meaning capabls of separation.

Chickie Tells Dr. Ramm That She Will Not Go Out With Him Again.

CHAPTER LXXIII Chickie’s Stand. -t. i HAT made her do this now? \JU Rather high-handed in a way J since she knew very well he liked her company and wanted It. It never occured to David Ramm that Chickie acted to safe guard him. He saw in her letter a grim, yet pitiful sentence of exile passed on herself. He wondered why she did this; why It had now become necessary and a better thing to an—and was far from agreeing. Maudlin way to look at things, especially In one so capable of gladness. She was not the narrow, righteous type taking punishment as a godly due. She didn’t view herself so. He was sure of it. She was game—yes—but never smug—never cringing— So something had happened . . . some revelation, perhaps, like that other time. He drove more quickly, wondering what it e >uld be; If It was anyone connected with the hospital; if she was afraid of her position there— Would she tell him? Or wouid she hide behind that reserve of hers —that reserve that had piqued him so in the beginning, He remembered the day she stood at the corner with the dog —a figure of grace. He asked her to go to a theater and she said coolly she never went out. She had that rule. As she told him this, she stooped to fasten the dog’s collar and her sweet mouth was very pale. How remarkable this refusal of hers had seemed . . . how very unusual such an attitude In a young pretty nurse. He was pricked by the calm Indifference with which she turned "him down . . . pricked yet fascinated. For he thought her very beautiful and imagined some mysterious, profound cause for her alootness. When finally she did go driving with him and he surprised her in moods of quiet; even of sorrow; hie interest and his curiosity grew. Then that morning came when she was gone; her place taken. For a while he was completely unable to accept the story he heard. His memory dwelt on the appealing sadness he had so often noted in her eyes, and Immediately lie decided In her favor. If she had really, done all this, some moving cause lay behind It. It could be no shabby or trifling affair. He was sure of this. What a cruel shame then to send her away branded! All the fight that was In him and all the pity surged uppermost. He had seen much that was fine and mellow in her; noted often her eagerness about the wards; the humanness of her serving; the way she had with the children. And he had heard her talk; heard her laugh: learned something of her thoughts. So he could take no part In this ruthless judgment passed against her. . When he saw her in the sun room, forcing herself with a pathetic pridf to meet his glance and saying: “It Is already done, Dr. David, I have left,” he wanted to strike out and hit. Blame someone or something. Not her. Behind these facts Just bared were reasons deep and terrible and cruel as life itself. She was defenseless before them. Or so he Judged her. And her punishment seemed brutal. Especially having to take that letter to a stranger and show It. He knew somewhat of Its contents—somewhat of that paragraph. He doubted greatly her courage to go through with* It. • • • *y rj HEN she met the test when h® Baw her standing hesitant --I on the corner and then going resolutely Into the building, a warmth of admiration stirred him. Bitter enough to do a thing like that! Not many would. Worth a cheer when one fights so. A bond warmer and more vital than sympathy made him put his arms about her. Deserved to win—any one so game. And she would. He stood by and watched, not knowing that through serving her he was loving her. He thought less of her past. Some day he would learn it all. Right now It was pleasant enough riding with her; winning the open, fervent tribute in her eyes. She was odd in that —so frankly admiring— That he might be hurt by this association never occurred to him; nor had he figured on the people who might know of her and talk of her— This letter flinging It in his face seemed inopportune unnecessary. He would soon dismiss It— Jennie opened the door. She was always a trifle excited by these visits of the great young doctor—as she and Jonathan called him. And now she blushed: “Oh, Chickie? Why—she’s In the garden—” “Then let me go In that way—please. No, don’t call her!” He had a domineering way of speaking. Jennie said hesitant: "You can come through the kitchen if you like, or through the alley.” He smiled: “Through the alley, Miss Jennie —” Chickie was sitting on a bench outside the summer house. A book lay open in Chickie’s lap. Her hands were clasped on it, head leaning back, eyes closed. He walked softly and she didn’t stir. Then he stood at her side — saw tears on her lashes— She said softly: “Jonathan—chocolates, please!” “David, girl—and no chocolates!” Color whipped Into her cheeks: “Oh —why have you come?” “To see you—to take you to a concert —” “No —why, didn’t you get my note?” “Oh, that for your note!" She covered the pages of the book with her hands and for -moments didn’t speak. He watched the red fading In her face and smiled: “Were you crying, lady?" “No—” “Yes, you were! Is that the way you are—crying over a book? What is it—” She held to it —“Oh, nothing much. I just happened to pick It from Miss Pruett’s table. I only took it to read In the car.”

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“What kind of books does Miss Pruettt read? And what manner of book does Miss Bryce weep upon?” He took It from her reluctant hands. It was that fantastic story of Hergeshelmer’s “The Lady Anthony”— story of love so flame-like in its purity that even death Is powerless against It. Its spirit wings like a song across the fields of muteness and the two who uttered It are one In Its Immortal harmony. She would not have had him take the book —would not have him see her tears for worlds. She laughed: "Here—give it back—” ‘You’re finished it’s open at the last page—you can have It tomorrow.” He put It In his pocket. “Now listen—why did you send me that letter? Isn’t It rather belated?” “Yes —it Is belated—l should have made this decision some time ago.” She didn’t look at him. “Why make It at all? We did quite nicely without any decision, it seems to me. Go get your things. We’lll go to dinner first.” She shook her head. He was standing above her with hls arms folded. A musing, puzzling look came Into his eyes. “What makes you think you have the sole right in this matter?” She shut her eyes swiftly. But after a second rubbed the grass with her toe and smiled: “Well, you see, Mr. Doctor, I’m not sure that it’s very wise for a brilliant youth such as yourself to be hobnobbing so with a mere nurse. Don’t you know a great many people are opposed to such?” He grew serious hls Jaw clinched: “Is it on my account then? How enormously considerate you are.” She laughed: “Oh my. yes—just a way of mine. I look backwards and forwards and cogitate this way and that. Then I decide —immutable like. What’s did is done and no undoing of it.” He sat down on the bench and looked at her. “What happened, Helena?" • * • Hing. I’m telling you the truth. — __ I just decided it Is much better for me to only work. You know t haven’t much longer. The course is only two years and four months here—so—” “Why do you evade? Do you mean to tell me that a mere concert intereferes with your work? Haven’t you enjoyed coming with me? Why must you stop now?” When she remained silent, he reached over and took her hand: “Was it because of last time? You were disturbed?” (To Be Continued) (Copyright. Klnsr Feature Syndicate)

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