Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 174, Indianapolis, Marion County, 21 November 1925 — Page 12

lOANNA

RtSßutiful JOANNA MANNERS. cl<rk is summoned by HAttKNt. to appear before her cmBH'lgr Mr. Graydon. who deliver* ~n message. Someone who y e she is not to know has placed on deposit at the MetroBank, subject to her personal Gravdon eonvlnees her there arc and has his chauffeut her to the banker. Andrew Graydon's old friend. evening when Joanna hopes to ffllk confidentially with JOHN WITher fiance, she finds also the and wealthy FRANCIS BRANher banker s nephew, waiting in drawinfr room Brandon departs, being assured of a later engageSag Joanna promises to share her fortune Hrith John, but he will not believe her Wtorv <md departs with coldness. ■ Brandon introduces her to Y’lONNr, ■COUTANT. famous society divorcee, ■whose partner, Roddy Kinelworth, rich, ■romantic idler, admits he will try his ■hand for Joanna. He knovs Brandon Hi the one thing Yvonne desires that she ■ tt ,Toanna learns from her chum, GEORHflE. that John is willing to apologize ■inoe speaking with Eggleston. She Bends him a note. ■ Joanna goes to live with Yvonne, Bvhere she meets MRS. DORTS MARKS. Bl MR. PENDLETON and LORD TF.tIDY BDORMINSTER. who loses no time in ■jourting Joanna. ■ In his library, Eggleston stares long Hit a picture, a counterpart ot Joanna. Hind then asks Brandon to bring her Ho him the next day. H Jom.na attends Yvonne’s party, at ■which Joarma makes her debut. By H. L. Gates I CHAFTER XVII. ■ John T"* o make of Joanna’s appearance a dramatic entrance, openly stage-managed, eviBently was an impromptu impulse of Evonne’s. Joanna had expected Ihothing ofthe kind. She waited, unsuspecting in her white and gold [boudoir. Y'vonne had said: “Give Ithem time to decide who’s to be nice [to who. Then the few in whom you [will be most interested will take you [in hand.” YVhen a maid, hurriedly posted to catch Yvonne’s signal, informed Joanna that she was expected, she hurried down the stairs from the upper floor and onto the balcony from which the grand staircase descended. She was still framed in the doorway when she realized that the people in the great room below were waiting for her, Joanna, their faces uplifted. She caught her breath. A hand flew nervously to her throat. She would have drawn back but instantly realized that she was too lute. Yvonne caught her glance and, with a nod, reassured her. Then exhilaration leaped through her stirred pulses. The carnival spirit of the scene below reached up and encompassed her. Anew ecstacj of happiness quivered at her finger tips, in her toes, and throughout the vibrant warmth of her. This was to bj her setting, symbol of the scintillating festival of which her life was to be forever shaped! These people, people of her new world, were waiting down there to welcome her among them and their kind! Bravado came into her eyes, and arrogance dimpled her cheeks. She moved over to first step between the curled and carving stair posts, and stood for a moment perfectly still. Then she blew a kiss down into the room. “A lorelie coming out of her shell,” Brandon murmured. “Gad, she carries it off as if she had been borne to masqeurade!” Kenilworth exclaimed. It was not Roddy’s habit to enthuse over a woman except in her presence. He considered it a spendthrift waste of energy. Brandon shot a sharp glance at him,. He noticed that Roifcly was rigid, his lips slightly parted, and that he breathed heavily. Joanna moved down the stairs slowly, a softly graceful figure that was taunting in Its suppleness and the fiagrance of its challenge to women in that room who would have yielded much of whatever was precious to them to have caught from her the least of her fascinations — the least of the beauties her confident arrrogance emphasized. Someone, a man, clapped his hands. Immediately another leaped toward the steps. Teddy Dorminster broke away from Brandon and Kenilworth and John swept past Yvonne, beating his rival to the girl's side. Before she knew his purpose Teddy had caught her up in his arms. For an instant her eyes flashed and she gave signs of scrambling to her feet, but she smothered the impulse. Teddy held her gracefully, easily, as if he were not unused to such performance. She set-

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tled in his arms and steadied her body by throwing a hand around his shoulder. Her golden-slippered feet and silken expanse above them hung lax. When she looked into Teddy’s face it was with only mofck reproof. A woman, her voice already shrill from (Miampagne, cried, “Bravo!” Another echoed the cry and then a babble of voices called out to Teddy and to the girl. Men crowded to the stairs, each eager to perform some share of the task of helping Joanna out of Teddy's arms onto the floor. A woman who stood behind John and Brandon said to her companion, loud enough to be overheard: “One of Teddy's best points Is that he can love a woman as he has carried that one, "without mussing her.” Johns face grew a little whiter, and his fingers twdtched, nervously. He saw that when Teddy had put her down, his arm lingered for a moment around the girl; that he held her close to him while he whispered and that Joanna brushed his cheek with the back of her hand playfully. The woman whom John had overheard spoke again: "Teddy is beginning a campaign. He always does it with a whisper. Whoever this girl is, and whatever she is, there are some people here tonight, who will hate her—if Teddy shows signs of following up that little tableau!” * * * EOHN turned to look at the speaker. She returned hi? glance and started at what she saw in his face. Then she was amused. She said something to her companion, a man, who quite evidently would not be her husband. He surveyed John curiously. He spoke to his companion in a low tone: “Yes. You probably are right. He’s In love with the girl. Odd looking chap, but one who would make trouble if he felt like it.”

Both Brandon and John sought to make their way to where Joanna stood, the center of a throng of men and women, some fascinated, as was Teddy Dorminster by her amazing beauty and freshness, and others paying their sycophantic dues to Yvonne by fawning upon her protege. But neither reached her side before she was whirled into a dance by .Lord Teddy. He surrendered her, after a few turns, to others who pressed forward for the privilege. Men were fulsome in their compliments. The mystery of her was the intriguing subject to which everyone led along the route of intimate, personal things, things the men murmured softly while she swayed close with them to the music, or whispered so that her ears alone caught them. It had been decided by Y'vonne that the history of her sudden shower of gold from an unknown benefactor should not be told. Kenilworth and Brandon, and the few others of Yvonne’s intimates who knew, agreed to keep the secret. Dorminster had not been taken into anyone’s confidence as to Joanna’s wealth. Then men who made their devotions to her, and the women who were curiously pleasant, soon gave Up their efforts to fathom her after failing in such hints as: "Have you known Y'vonne Coutant a very long time? Do you belong in New York, or are you from elsewhere?” The men returned gleefully to their sentimental venturings. When a score of toasts in punch had been drunk to her, and she had flitted from one pair of arms to another in the dancing, Joanna became conscious of an unfami'iar quality in the murmured admirations heaped upon her. She had been accustomed to the tentative probings, of the boys in her old crowd, and their frankly said and usually sincerely meant flatteries. “Y'ou're a swell girl!” was what she had learned to expect. Her acknowledgement customarily was prompt and was perhaps: “Is that the best line you’ve got?” She knew the danger or the threat, or the safety, in every compliment, as her dancing boys paid them, and usually she guided them well away from the edge. But now she felt that her wits must grapple for new understandings. The men who captured her for few fleeting moments sung their adorations in a more elusive melody. The words of their praises seemed harmless; but she sensed new meanings. Roddy Kenilworth took both of her hands and held her a little way from him, and looked at her. All that he said, was: “You are very pretty tonight. That dress you are wearing must have been created just for you by a really great artist.” Nothing more. Yet Joanna was conscious that she trembled, and conscious, too, that she had been faithful to the present day mode which required that underneath that dress she wear but a single gar-

Puzzle a Day

At one of Michigan’s football practice games, three passes were made in exact formation. The first pass was for 11 yards. The second was as long as the first plus half the length of the third. While the third pass was as long as the first and second together. How far was the football thrown in the second and third passes? I>ast puzzle answer: £x/r Every morning at the spot marked “start” Mickey begins his daily run over every white tile. He never touches a black tile and always finishes at his dressing room. To get another solutioh, turn the square bottomside up. \ This is the .first path

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ment, so delicate and sheer that it almost blended into her skin. Roddy said only that she was pretty and her dress becoming. Yet she understood that the man who was speaking, and who had bantered her but a few nights before with the threat of his pursuit of her. already wanted to take her slim body into his arms and crush it. She decided she would have to strengthen her battlements. She had learned to make her lips provocative, and use her knowledge boldly and saucily. She had the sense that in this order of life, so different from the domain ot the silk counter and its flrtatlons, it was much more dangerous to be provoking. * • * /—HE majority of the men were, | I’[ of course, only silly. EspeclI * r ally those who were obviously important men of affairs, and who amused Joanna with their common adoption of one phrase, “I wish my wife were like you, now!” Three in succession! One who confided to her that he was an attorney representing “some of our very large interests,” another whose name was magic in a store that competed with the one she had left, even Pendleton, who had been both a diplomat and a statesman! As he breathed his response to her buoyant and restless youth, Pendleton indicated to her a pretty woman who probably was forty but looked thirty, and who seemed, in some intangible way, to be riot very happy. Joanna saw that her eyes always followed her husband. Joanna thought she would like Mrs. Pendleton. And she didn’t like Pendleton. She gave him an unexpected acknowledgement of his “If my wife were like you, now, I’d know how really to enjoy being in love!” "Haven’t you ever talked that over with anyone? Just for example, Mrs. Marks?” Offense colored in his face immediately. But the girl In front of him was laughing up at him so brightly that he was helpless. "Because Doris happens occasionally to meet me for tea,” he protested “doesn’t necessarily mean that we have confidences. Anyhow, can’t we forget everyone else, for this minute you have given me?”

Joanna couldn’t, she told him, and left him with a parting sally. A moment later she timidly touched Mrs. Pendleton on the arm. "Y’ou won’t mind will you,” she asked Pendleton’s wife, “If I say that I want to know you? You see,” she lied, “I have met Mr. Pendleton, and he was good enough to think you might like me! I wish you would.” The older woman was plainly confused, but recovered instantly. She took one of the girl's hands between both her own. “Why, that is sweet of you, n.J dear!” she exclaimed warmly. She was openly delighted by the pretty enthusiasm of the young girl, who was the night's most frivolous butterfly. She was afraid she would go dowfi in the torrent that seethed about her—a torrent that glittered and swept up laughter, luxury and extravagance, and the stakes of many gambles in love. This fear suddenly distressed Mrs. Pendleton. When Kenilworth found opportunity to claim her again he saw that the first excitements of Joanna’s triumph in her success among these friends of Yvonnes had subsided, and that she was troubled. She denied it, when he accused her, but almost immediately afterwards admitted it. She had missed John! Brandon had talked with her but a few moments, resigning her, gracefully, to others who, made insistent by their third and fourth drinks, demanded their dance or tilt of wits with her. He had not mentioned that John had come, and had watched her entrance down the stairs and hilarious reception. Neither had Kenil-worth, and Yvonne seemed suddenly to have disappeared from among her guests. Joanna began to want to go up to her boudoir and confront the pain of her disappointment. She could not restrain a little cry when Roddy told her: “But there is he?” Bhe exclaimed.

"Please, won’t you keep people away from me, while we find him? He couldn’t have gone.” They looked in the dim-lit winter garden, peopled with couples whose moods were for faint lights, and in the other rooms which had been thrown open. Brandon, too, had missed him, and so had Dorminster. Roddy, failing to glimpse Yvonne in any of the rooms, decided to seek her out in the morning room, off the reception hall, the little retreat of which few of her guests knew and to which none had admission but Kenilworth and Brandon. Roddy was convinced John would not have gone, even if he avoided Joanna, without a word to his hostess. When Joanna saw him standing in the center of the room she was suddenly angry, despite her eagerness. She would not forgive him, readily, she decided, for igndring her. Then she realized that she could do nothing but forgive. Yvonne, who had sat directly in front of him, curled in her great, soft chair, rose when she and Roddy entered. "I’ve been enjoying this boy of yours tremendously,” she said to Joanna. Joanna went quietly up to John. She was biting her lips to keep them from trembling. Yvonne, from where Roddy awaited her, added: “He wanted to run away, but I’ve managed to keep him. We’ve had a most interesting conversation.” * * * mOANNA’S lips quieted, a little grimly. Something of weariness came into her eyes, lingered there a moment and then vanished quickly. She took John's hands. She had intended to kiss CalJ, Fikiusi

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him, but led him to a couch, Instead, and put him down beside her. “Now, tell me,” she commanded, “why you have stayed away from me. I have been so happy, expecting you every minute.” "I wanted to, Jo,” he said, simply, "particularly because It has been hard for me to put off telling you how sorry I am for the things I thought when I heard, of the wonderful thing that happened to you. I should have known better, but I Just couldn’t believe. I would have come before tonight but you wouldn’t let me, you know, and now, of course, I know why. I thought, when I saw you and the people around you, that I would Just go along. There will be no room for me any more.” “Y’ou’re going to scold again,” Joanna complained. ,‘Won’t you kiss me, first? Y’ou haven’t kissed me, John, for a long time now, days and days It seems. And I don’t want to be scolded tonight.” Perhaps he would have resisted her, if he could. But there would be few indeed who could have withstood the appeal of her. almost a child in her plaint! ve plea to be humored and fondled. John gathered her to him and held her. Her hands pressed against his breast—her old trick which sometimes had been a pretense. Suddenly he put her away from him. Even put away ahe arm she hastily flung over his shoulder. When she saw how white his face was she understood why he was waiting, why he couldn’t, just then, make words. “Now,” she said, softly, “you must tell me why you were going away without even coming up to me.” "Because, Jo,” he answered, “you already have gone away from me. I have tried to see It differently, but that’s the way it is. When I came here tonight 1 thought we would have our hours together—l didn't know it was to be an affair like this! And that you had planned for me to find you in the very midst of the sort of thing you like—that fits you so well.” Joanna settled back, patiently and quietly. The deep brown settled in her eyes. (Copyright. 1925. H .L. Gates ) (To Be Continued.)

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