Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 69, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 July 1931 — Page 9

JULY 30,1931

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BEGIN HEBE TODAY LIANE BARRETT. daughter of CABS BARRETT, actress in a stocK company, meets and falls in love with VAN ROBARD. handsome man of the world. Cass sas clane to have nothing to do with Robard. MRB. CLEESPAUGH. rich sridow in the Con* Island smart seu takes Llane as her protege. When Cass is recovering from a serious nines*. Liane learns that Vam has become engaged to MURIEL LAUD debutante. Eager to man* her mother happy. Liane accepts CLIVfc ccivr-b-PALU'B proposal of marriage. cass has oabblea in ner delirium of some mvsterv concerning Liane a bitrh. TRESSA LORD. wno. witn ner sister. MKt) AMBt.KiON is a house guest at the Clce&pauKn Dome. Dislikcg Liane and Oiots to oreaK tne engagement. Liane mrcatenea ny maatmauers. but feHANE MroLKMiD. a oolice omoer wno once Deinenued ner. settle* mu Qjniculty. At a ball given lor a visiting prince. Liane it sinnaped lor ransom. Cuve. MCDermid ana CHUCK DESMOND. a report! who is Interested la Muriei. follow tre kidnapers ana rescue her. Cass is alarmed anu urges an eariy marriage. CU%.- wants Liane to eiope with bun, but sne retuses. one day when she is driving into New York lor a tilting o! her wedding gown, tne car develops a Uwt tire ana Robard comes along oflerUi NOW GO UN WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY -ONE (Continued.) •‘Sweet!” He made the word sound like a caress. Under the table she felt one of her small, gray shod feet imprisoned between his russet boots. Bhe colored. He laughed at her “That’s an undergraduate trick,” he mocked. “Won’t do it again.” He released her small shoe. The waiter hovered obsequiously over them. “Here now. you must eat,” Van told Liane with a show of authority. “You’ll be swooning from starvation.” She tried to eat but she could not. Food at such a time! * v a ABRUPTLY, Van turned serious. “You’re not going through with this marriage?” he asked. Liane nodded. “O course I am. What on earth did you think?” He set his jaw. “You’re not. I won’t have it.” She laughted. She couldn’t help it. "You have a nerve.” He shook his head impatiently. “No, I tell you, you musn’t. There’s something between us. We’ve felt It from the first, both of us. I—well, I couldn’t avoid this engagement with Muriel. She wants it as little as 1 do. Wait!” Liane looked down at her plate. Her pulse was pounding, her thoughts racing wildly. Aloud she said in a suffocated voice: “It’s too late. I’ve given my word.” He disdained that. “Rot. You don’t love Clive. He’s a great chap, but you don’t. Chuck it all. Come off with me today.” With tortured eyes she stared at him. “Oh, -.1 mustn’t! It’d be wrong.” She thought of Clive looking at her that morning, saying: "Come to Richmond with me.” No, she couldn’t be unfair to Clive. It would hurt him too much. But how was she to resist this other, whose very presence had the power to sway her against her better judgment? Van set his lips. “Very well. I’ve been wrong about you from the first then.” This tore from her an agonized “why?” He said cruelly: “You’re after the millionaire baby just as they all say.” She stared at him, stabbed to the heart. Pride came t oher rescue at last. “It’s nice to know what you really think of me.” She gathered up her gloves. “Don’t go. You know I really didn’t mean It.” She thought, “Oh, If I could only hate him! That w r ould cure everything!’’ CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO KELLY was voluble on the return trip. “A thumb tack it was in the tire, Miss,” he told Liane. “Looked as if someone had jabbed it in. Funny.” She scarcely listened to the man’s talk. Van’s words came back to haunt her. What right had he to say such things to her? Not once in the months she had known him had lie given her any tangible evidence of his love. Words, words, words, all meaningless! It was to Muriel, the girl of his own world, that his fealty had been pledged. She, Liane, had remained outside the chosen circle, until Clive had raised her up with his honest devotion. Some men were like that, she de-

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cided. You had no value until you were promised to another. She tried to work up a furious anger in her heart against Van. Better a clean rage than this sickly yearning after a man who could be so savagely bitter toward her. She realized suddenly that she had forgotten to telephone her mother. The whole day had been a muddle. She went straight to Mrs. Cleespaugh. “We had a breakdown and Mr. Robard came along. He drove me into town for my appointment. I was just in time.” “How fortunate,” Mrs. Cleespaugh said warmly. “How Is the dress? I am so anxious to see it.” “It’s perfect,” Liane said honestly. “Scorcely anything was wrong. Oh, the sieves were not quite tight enough. Miss Lilly says it will be ready next week.” “The notices are ready for the papers—all but the date,” Mrs. Cleespaugh told her. “Clive said you might decide that while he was away. I was hoping we might make it Christmas eve. St. Simon’s will be lovely then.” Liane thought a little wildly that they might be making arrangements for a luncheon or a dinner instead of so important an event as a wedding. “That would be all right,” she said quietly. The old lady looked at her with calm satisfaction. “The 24th then,” she said. “I think we will have the chancel banked with pine and I want mimosa for the altar vasep. It may be hard to get, but I shall try.” “She is enjoying this wedding more than I am.” reflected the young girl. Yet she entered into the plans as completely as she could. Anything to still the dull ache in her heart. “What was the trouble with the car?” the old lady inquired presently. Liane welcomed the diversion. “Kelly said a thumb tack had worked its way into the rear tire,” she explained. tt u a MRS. CLEESPAUGH sniffed. “How very odd. He was supposed to take all four tires off yesterday and look them over carefully. Two of them are brand new. And you say it happen just a short distance out of the village?” Liane nodded. The old lady looked annoyed. ”1 shall have to reprimand Kelly. He must have disregarded my orders about overhauling the car yesterday.” It was on the tip of Liane’s tongue to say, “Van took me to luncheon.” but she refrained. She scarcely knew why. At dinner that night Tressa was! unusually gay. Liane had not known she could be so cheerful, so amusing. “I think I’ll push off for Aiken next week, Eva,” Tressa said affably over the coffee cups. Mrs. Cleespaugh looked at her benevolently. Evidently Tressa had won her way back into her hostess s affections since the coolness the night of the ball. “Oh. is that all settled?” Tressa asked. Her bell-like tones were utterly guileless, but Liane felt a sharpness in the gaze Tressa turned upon her. “Christmas Eve it’s to be,” said the old lady, smiling. “The papers will have it tomorrow. Very quiet, of course. No maids. Liane wanted it that way.” “Ah” Tressa’s monosyllable was noncommittal. “Well then perhaps I’ll impose on you for a short while longer.” “You never impose,” the old lady insisted graciously. Yet Liane felt she was relieved that Tressa was going at last. Mrs. Amberton had departed the day before for the south and her sister had made some excuse for lingering. “I always have such a beautiful time here, Eva, and you’re all so good to me,” Tressa murmured. “It —it feels somehow like home.” She allowed the suspicion of a tremor to creep into her voice. The faintest suggestion of moisture filmed her lovely eyes for an instant. Mrs. Cleespaugh gave evidence of being touched. “It is your home as long as you care to make it that, my dear,” she assured Tressa Lord. And this time Liane knew she was not mistaken in the quality of the look Tressa gave her. There was triumph there. And a queer little spark of amusement.

T lANE went upstairs early, pleading weariness. For a long time she sat in her dressing gown before the fire, staring into the flames, trying to piece out a pattern from her confused and painful thoughts. Was she wrong to go forward in her determination to marry Clive? She had been promised to him. before all the world. And was there any spectacle so painful, she wondered, as a jilted man? Ah, perhaps the jilted girl was as sorry a sight. Well, she would not jilt Clive. He was fine and honorable, handsome and good. He was fond of her and she was of him. They would make of their marriage a clean, noble partnership. They might miss the thrills of romantic love, but they would have companionship. They would share jokes, read books together. She looked ahead of her down the years and something about the calm prospect made her shudder. “I may live for forty or fifty years,” she thought. “I never really may know love. I shall have missed the only thing that matters.” But what could she do? Van was bound and even if he had not been obviously his protestations meant nothing. No, he was not to be depended on. It was her ill fortune that that dark, somber charm of his had captured her fancy. Liane sighed. Her telephone rang and she answered it. Oh, the wild hope that sprang in her heart at the sound of that bell! What if, answering, she might hear that deep, beloved voice! But it was Cass who called. Darling, I waited in because I thought you’d give me a ring.” Liane was all contrition. “I’m so sorry. I tried to get you and the line was busy.” She hated to fib, but she could not let her mother know the truth. “Ah, that’s too bad. How do things go?” “Splendidly. Are you coming out Sunday? I’ve a lot to tell you.” “I’ll try. I’m rushed to death with rehearsals and everything. My part’s a walkaway.” “Lovely. Please come Sunday. Or let me come in to you.” Oh, 111 be out. Don’t worry. Good night, dear.” As Liane placed the telephone back in its cradle, a soft knock sounded on the door. Nora’s head appeared. “Is Miss Tressa downstairs still?” The servants all liked Liane. “She’s that human,” they said. They feared and avoided Tressa. "I think she is,” Liane told the maid. “Is there something I can do?” “I thought I’d just slip in her room and get me a box of thumb tacks. They belong to the butler’s pantry and I have to put new oilcloth on the shelves tomorrow. I’ll be needing it.” “Oh. I’m quite sure that will be all right,” Liane told her faintly. The pattern was all clear before her now. Tressa had arranged the blowing of the tire. She had doubtless telephoned Van. That explained much. “She knows,” thought Liane, curiously afraid. “She knows I am in love with him.”

(To Be Continued) STICKLERS

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| Answer for Yesterday

This shows how the circular piece of ground may be divided mto four equal parts, each part with a cottage on it

TARZAN, LORD OF THE JUNGLE

Sir Richard smiled in return “Thou wilt always joke,” he said, “even in the face of death. Ne'ertheless, I would advise thee.” Then the knight explained carefully and at length to Blake just how he should conduct himself to meet Sir Malud's onslaught. “He will fight his best, for he is jealous.” “Jealous? Os whom?” inquired Jimmy innocently. “He would wed the Princess.” 1

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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“He is not the only one who hat remarked your manner toward her,” insisted Sir Richard. Blake laughted. “Why, >e crazy. The Princess is a might sweet kid, but she can’t see me for distance.” “Enough of thy outlandish speech I gather.’’ retorted Sir Richard, "to understand thy meaning, James, but I am unconvinced. The eyef;Of the Princess seldom leave thee when thou art upon thy horse,'’

—By Ahem

“Run along and sell your papers,” admonished Blake. “For this, Sir Malud would put thee out of the way,” continued Sir Richard. "Because I know this, I grieve, for I have learned to like thee well my friend.” Blake arose and came around the end of the tab’e M ~ r or> —* a good old scout. Dickey, my boy,” he said, placing his hand affectionately upon the other s snouider, “hut forget thr worrying. I am not dead—yet”

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

“Does Prince Gobred favor Malud’s suit?** asked Blake after a pause. “Why not?" asked Richard, “for he is a powerful knight. He has a great castle and fully a hundred men at arms." “Are there no other knights so powerful in all this gTeat valley?" “None, save Bohun,” said Richard, lowering his voice, “but we seldom speak of him, though he calls himself king. Perhaps I should tell thee why.” “Go ahead.” said Blake, “dish up the dirt.”

PAGE 9

—By Williams

—By Blosssr

—By Crane

—By Small

By Martin