Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 152, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 November 1928 — Page 11

NOV. 15,1928

jjpß A SUITOR KMUkTOO MANY f AMILDB>ED BARB QUIN. t

LILA LATHAM becomes the bride of HERBERT WARE, bet the Qicture of an old sweetheart, CAPTAIN JACK FARQUAHAR, lurks in her mind. She confides her plight to her friend, DOROTHY CAINE, an artist. While in France during the war, Lila had promised Jack that she would be. come his bride when his regiment came back from the front. Jack is reported dead, and later his insurance is forwarded to Lila, who gives it to disabled veterans. Herbert learns of the gift, and Lila says the money was her uncle’s and was given in memory of his son. Several other complications arise over the gift, but Herbert’s mind is put at rest. Lila One day sees GILROY HOLMES, a war-time buddy of Jack, and she faints. She learns that Jack is not dead and is to return to New York that day. She meets him, andi he invites her to luncheon. During the meal. Jack asks Lila to marry him. While he is explaining his miraculous escape from death and the circumstances of his return, Lila is laying her plans. She doesn’t dare tell him she’s married, so she says she can’t marry him now, because, to save her father from financial ruin, she has become engaged to one of his business associates. CHAPTER XXV CONTINUED IT was well for Lila that her wits had been working overtime in the past few months, for, quite suddenly, she had her excuse. “Jack, dear,” she said, in her most coaxing tone, “you must listen to me and try to understand and not be angry. When you were given up for dead, I was really free again, in a way, wasn’t I?” His gray eyes narrowed dangerously. “There w’as our pledge, made in the presence of our comrades,” he reminded her grimly. “I know,” she nodded, “but there ■were circumstances—My father—well, he brought pressure to bear upon me, because he was in business difficulties. There was a man who could help him, a very wealthy man—” She stopped, terrified at Farquahar’s expression as he leaned toward. But he only said quietly: “Go on.” “I—l had to become engaged to this man, or he would not have come to my father’s rescue,” she faltered. “Yes, and then?” questioned Farquahar between his teeth. Lila abandoned any further effort. “That is all,” she said, with a helpless little gesture. “It’s quite enough,” remarked Farquahar grimly. “You will, of course, break this engagement at once.” “But I can’t!” cried Lila feverishly. “My father is under financial obligations to my—to this man. He could ruin my father in a moment, if he wished.” “Then your father must take the consequences,” announced Farquahar determinedly. “But,” protested Lila, searching desperately for another excuse—and, luckily, finding it, “Dad is ill—very ill. Any shock might be fatal. Oh, Jack, don’t make me do something I’d regret all my life.” • Her voice was so poignantly appealing and her eyes so beseeching that Jack Farquahar relented a trifle. “I don’t want to make you unhappy, Lila. I hope never to bring you anything but joy, because I love you. But isn’t it a bit unfair to ask me to wait longer, after all these wasted years.” “Yes. But, Jack, how could I help it? How could I guess that you were alive?” “That’s quite true,” he conceded. “And, after all, this thing was not of your choosing.” He failed to notice that Lila winced. “It was to save your father. Quite the splendid thing that any one would guess you would want to do.” Lila turned her head away. She felt like a worm. “What do you propose to do about it?” Farquahar asked, after a moment. “I am not proposing to give you up to this chap. You may be quite sure of that.” “Give me a little time,” Lila pleaded. “When dad is better, perhaps—l can free myself.” “ ‘Perhaps’!” echoed Farquahar grimly. “You’re darn well right you will. I’ll see to that, I promise you.” “But you won’t do anything rash now?” pleaded Lila. “You will give me time?” What she would do with time in this ghastly situation she had no idea. But anything was better post-

THE NEW Saint-Sinner ByjJnneJlmtin cms iy nta snMa. inc

* Crystal waited until the guitarplayer had almost reached her and his serenade was ended, before she exclaimed, holding out her hands, “Bienvenida!” Between her Spanish-English dictionary and Pablo Mendoza’s teaching during the four other times she had met Kim, Crystal had learned a good handful of Spanish words and phrases, her rendition of which delignied the Mexican youth inordinately. “But Pablo,* she cried, looking him up and down amazedly, “where did you get those clothes? Oh, you look exactly as I thought you would!” The boy smoothed the wide purple sash that divided his scarlet silk shirt and his tight black satin trousers, and grinned at her with engaging shyness and satisfaction. “You wish see toreador costume. I send Mexican city. My mother send. You like music? I sing you ’La Paloma’?” “Oh, do, please!” Crystal clapped her hands softly ,her eyes shining like stars in the purple twilight. “And then I’ll read you a poem. I brought a flashlight.” They sat down, very close together, their shoulders touching as they leaned against the tree trunk. The Mexican boy sang very softly, his barytone voice lazily rich and tender, as his fingers languidly plucked the strings of the guitar swung by a scarlet ribbon about his neck. When he had finished the melody the two sat silent, purple turning to black as night closed in upon them. “We’re forgetting my poem!” Crystal cried finally. She gave him the flashlight to hold, and

poned until the morrow. Dorothy could help her, Somehow. “I’ll give you a very little time, sweetheart," Farquahar told her. “Don’t expect me to be to patient. But, in view of the circumstances, I’ll try to be fair. Only you must let me see you every day. I can’t do without that.” And his eyes darkened suddenly, “does he kiss you?” “W—who?” faltered Lila. “That man, of course.” “N—no.” ‘He’d better not,” was Farquahar's grim reply. CHAPTER XXVI An Exacting “Fiance” FARQUAHAR refused to listen to Lilia’s leaving him directly after luncheon. “You owe it to me—after five years of separation,” he reproached her. He hired a car, and they drove into the country for tea at a roadside inn. He held her hand and told her all the things that a womand adores hearing from a man she loves, but finds wearisome when her thoughts are all of another. Lila was thinking only of Herbert. She wanted to run to him and take refuge in his arms and confess e> -y thing. She wanted to implore him to hold her and keep her safe from this masterful young man with the lean, handsome face and the brilliant gray eyes. But she reminded herself dismally that Herbert’s arms would be closed forever against her, if he had the slightest inkling of thj? truth. When Farquahar spoke of plans for the evening, she demurred quickly: “I can’t, Jack. Honestly, I can’t. You must understand my position. It would never do for my fiance to suspect the truth.” “Don’t call him that!” commanded Farquahar bitterly. “By Heaven, isn’t it bad enough for me to know that the fellow exists, without your reminding me of him, from time to time!” “I’m sorry,” murmured Lila weakly. Swiftly penitent, Farquahar swept her into his arms. She yielded, because there was nothing else to do, but she made a quick resolve to be careful in future not to be alone with him. It would be difficult to manage, but it must be done. She sighed with weariness at the thought of what she was letting herself in for. ana \ S soon as she decently could, rV. she persuaded Farquahr to drop her at Dorothy’s studio. “I have a friend here whom I must see this afternoon,” she told him. He looked at her suspiciously. “A man?” There was an hysterical note in ; Lila's laugh, He had sounded so much like Herbert. “No, Jack. A girl, a very old friend.” He let her go, finally, after extracting a promise that she would lunch with him on the following day. Lila dashed upstairs to Dorothy, who was jusV dismissing a model. She sat at her drawing board, putting the finishing touches to a sketch. She looked cool and composed. Lila flung herself into a chair. “I’m all in!” she groaned. Dorothy laid down her pencil. “He has come?” she asked. “Has he?” echoed Lila. “Oh, Dot, I’m in the most frightful mess.” “He hasn’t changed, “Heavens, no! He’s worse than ever! He wanted to be married this very afternoon.” Dorothy uttered an exclamation. “How did you get out of it?” “I told him the most awful rigamarole.” She went on to relate her story of the hard-hearted fiance who held her father’s life in his hands.

opened her Rupert Brooke. Her fingers riffled nervously through the leaves. Os course she understood and loved them all, but—what would he be interested in? At last, afraid that he would grow impatient, she began to read, taking a poem at random: “Tenderly, day that I have loved. I close your eyes. “And smooth your quet brow, and fold your thin dead hands. “The grey veils of the half-light deepen; color dies.” “Very pretty,” Pablo said politely, and she knew that he had not understood a word, could not have cared for it if he had. . . . But what did it matter now that he was uneducated and primitive? He was a man—young and handsome and so obviously in love with her, and she—she was young, too, and a girl. They sat silent again, but now Pablo’s hand, free of the darkened flashlight, was lying big and warm upon her hand. It lay very still at first, not daring to press, then his fingers began to stroke hers, and she became aware of the fact that his fingers weie hard and work-roughened. She tried to forget, did forget almost completely, for her whole body seemed to become charged with electricity from those stroking fingers. Then, just as in the poem she had been quoting to herself before Pablo arrived—“And suddenly there was an uproar in my woods”— there came the harsh, bellowing voice of the Grayson foreman: “Where’s that darned greaser? Pablo! No more sense than to leave pasture gates open! Pablo!” (To Be Continued)

Dorothy smiled in spite of herself. “It’s an ingenious yarn!” “But where will it land me?” groaned Lila. “I’ve probably only made matters worse. And, Dot, he expects to see me every day, of course. How can I do that, without Herbert’s finding out?” “I’ll help where I can—at least, to stall off Herbert.” Lila hid her face in her hands. o n tt “x FEEL like the lowest worm! A I’m a liar and a cheat. I’m acting like the most disloyal wife in the world, and the fact that it’s to save Herbert’s happiness and mine doesn’t help matters.” She looked up at Dorothy hopefully: “Dot, I want you to meet Jack? He might even fall in love with you.” To her surprise, crimson flooded Dorothy’s face. She turned abruptly to her drawing board. “No danger!” she said lightly, over her shoulder. “Once a man falls in love with you, there’s no help for him.” “I’m afraid that doesn’t apply to Herbert,” said Lila ruefully. “He’d never forgive me, if he found out about Jack. Dot, why is it that the men we adore can forget us overnight and the ones we don’t care about remain eternally faithful?” Dorothy laughed, picked up a palette, and walked over the easel. “I believe that riddle was propounded to the Sphinx in the year 3001 B. C.” Lila rose with a sigh. “Will you call me up tonight, while Herbert is at home, and make some sort of date, so Herbert won’t be suspicious when I say I’m lunching out tomorrow?” Dorothy promised, and Lila hastened home. To her dismay, she found Herbert pacing the library floor, his face like a thunder-cloud. “Where have you been all day?” he demanded, without preliminary greeting. “I’ve just come from Dot’s” faltered Lila, thankful that, for once, she was telling the truth—with reservations. “Indeed?” sneered Herbert. “All day. Is that so? Then isn’t it curious, that when I rang the studiobuilding a little while ago, the girl at the switchboard told me that she’d seen you coming in around 5 o’clock?” Lila was momentarily speechless. But, while she sought for an adequate explanation, Herbert went on: "Well forget the discrepancy for a minute. Please do me the favor of getting ready for dinner. My new manager, Gilroy Holmes, is dining with us!” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1928,, Metropolitan Newspaper Service. New York)

How Bright Is Your Baby?

The new-born baby is deaf. He can not hear because the outer ear is filled with fluid or because there is too little air in the middle ear or because the walls-of the auditory canal are too close together. Very shortly after birth, however, he begins to use his ears. If he does not hear by the end of the fourth week, there is ground for concern. Check each item that you have observed in your baby. Then look at the key. 1. Did lie start at a loud noise? Yes No 2. Did he start when you shook a rattle near him? Yes No 3. Did he squirm at the sound of a rattle? Yes No 4. If he was “fussing,” did he grow quiet at the sound of a rattle? Yes No 5. Did he waken at the sound of a rattle? Yes No 6. At the sound of a voice did he squirm? Yes No 7. Did he start when you spoke to him? Yes No 8. Did he stop fussing when you spoke to him? Yes No 9. Did the sound of a voice waken him? Yes No 10. Did his cry have the sound of short a? of short e? ‘ Yes No 11. Does he enjoy musical sounds? Yes No 12. Does he turn his head toward a sound? Yes No 13. Is he pleased when he hears your voice? Yes No

Key to Questions

No. 1. This happens within a few hours after birth. Nos. 2-9. During the first week any of these things may happen. No. 10. The cry of little babies has these vowel sounds. No. 11. At 3 months baby shows that he likes musical sounds. No. 12. The average baby does this at Ihe age of 2 or 3 months. No. 13 Baby recognizes familiar voices v-hen he is from 3 to 5 months old. Next we will see what baby is afraid of. (Copyright, 1928. Science Service, Inc.) DOMESTICATED HUSBAND Evansville Woman Asserts Mate Did All the Housework. Bn Times Special EVANSVILLE, Ind., Nov. 15. Mrs. Keturah Wedding, well known in Evansville society, testified in a divorce suit against Charles Wedding that his pecular ideas about their home life caused them to part. According to the wife, her husband insisted upon doing the housework; would not permit her to walk on floors except where she could step on rugs; forced her to change shoes when coming into the house and accused her of permitting ice in the refrigerator to melt too quickly.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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M 'S. Taft-w as a great lover She often had her friends in, even in the morning, for a game. Both the president and Mrs. Taft were fond of the theater. They sometimes went as often as twice a week. , HS Special Permitsion of the Publisher o* The Book at Knowledge, Copyright. 1923-26.

By Ahern

Mrs. Taft did not care for the great “Lincoln bed” that President and Mrs. Roosevelt proudly used. In its place she installed twin beds.

OUT OUR WAY

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When the first Mrs. Wilson came to the White House, the sudden re- ' moval from the atmosphere of a small university town left her bewildered. u-is

SKETCHES BX BESSEX. SXNOI’SIS BX BKALCUEB

She is described as a calm, sweet woman, a little unsophisticated and a “day dreamer." She found recess from the continual round of Washington affairs in’her painting. She painted creditable landscapes and for years had sold them to increase the family income. Mrs. Wilson was not extravagant; neither was the president. (To Be Continued) and Synopses, Copyright. 19?*. Tv

PAGE 11

—By Williams

—IIv Marlin

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By Small

By Cowan