Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 80, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 August 1931 — Page 13

AUG. 12, 1931

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nroiN hfrf today . LIANE BARRETT. 18 nd t*uttful. tries in vin to forßPt VAN ROBARD. Wealthy do:o Dl*ver. mhen his er.wnement is announced to MURIEL LADD, gooulsr debutante. Liar.e s. mother. CASS BARRETT, is an actress and It Is durlnß Cass’s ensraßement In stock at a fashionable Long Island summer colony that the Barretts meet MRS. CLEEB- - aealthv widow. When Cass rocs on tour In the fall, Liane become* Mrs. Cleesoaußh s secretary. CLIVE CLEESPAUGH. the widow’s only son. asks Liane to marry him. Clive can not Inherit his father's fortune unless he marries before he is 2S. Liane accents. aftreelnK the marrtaße is to be a matter of form only. TRESSA LORD and her sister. MRS. AMBERTON. come to visit the Cieeshaußhs Tressa wants to marry Clive, and begins to make trouble for Liane. Tressa connives unsuccessfully with a Eanß of blaocmallers. Later Liane Is tdnapn*d, but rescued by MeDermld and Clive. Liane and Clive are marrl'd. spend a honevmoon in the south and ti.cn return forth. Muriel elopes with CHUCK DESVtOND newspaper reporter. On a shoppme trip Liane encounters Itobard. She is unhappy and he beRS her to ro abroad with him. She confides In Cass who reveals that Liane is not her own daußhtcr. but the child of Cass's sister. LuISE. and Robard's stepfather, whose first wife Lulra was. NOW C.O ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER FORTY-TWO (ContintJnued) The voice said. ‘‘Don’t worry about anythin*. You're coming along splendidly." Then Liane drifted off •gam. She was so very tired. a a a IN the corridor of St. Elizabeth’s hospital a haggard young man paced up and down. When the doctor appeared, a brisk, plump doctor in his early forties, and smiling with spurious brightness, the young man approached him and spoke in a low, anxious tone. The doctor waived him aside with cool, imperious manner which comes naturally to the followers of Aesculapius. ‘‘Now, now, Mr. Cleespaugh, I'll talk to you later,’* he said. He vanished. The door of the secretivelooking room closed after him. The young man continued to pace up and down. He had the air of one distraught. Occasionally he struck his palms together. At times he argued softly to himself when he reached the deserted turn of the corridor. “How was I to know she was starving to death?" he demanded of no one at all. And “why didn’t I come sooner? The detectives had known where she was for almost a week. I was afraid of frightening her away again." He paced up and down, up and down, a caged, tormented man. After eons the lock clicked and the physician emerged. His air was still brisk, his smile more pleased. He deigned now to speak to the young man at length. “Well, well, sir, she’s getting along splendidly, I’m happy to say. Sixteen ounces of nourishment this morning, thirty-two during the night. Miss Bunce has her orders. Pulse is stronger, I’m glad to tell you. I am very hopeful.” Clive spoke with difficulty. “You’re sure she’s out of danger now?” "Well, you mustn’t ask such leading questions, young man. She’s so very frail there doesn’t seem to be much fight there. D'you see what I mean?” Clive saw. Instantly he was in the depths again. a a a THE doctor thumped him benignly on the shoulder. “Mustn’t give up like that. I said she was getting along and I mean it. Orly we mustn’t be too cocksure. Wait and see.” On this cold comfort he bustled away. Clive hated him. At noon they let him come in for five minutes. Liane lay as one quietly asleep, her lashes resting lightly on cheeks which seemed to him terrifyingly wan. She did not know* he was there, or, If she did, she gave no sign. Cass came after his telephone message and talked in low tones to the nurse. Her eyes looked strained when she emerged from her conference, but she patted Clive on the arm and tried to cheer him. He kept saying over and over again: “I never should have let this go on for so long. I was afraid to break in on her too soon. I thought she was all right. How was I to know.” Cass told him not to reproach himself, but he scarcely heard her, so absorbed was he in his own bitter reflections. “The doctor says it’s a case of real starvation,” he went on prodding the wound. “Starvation! Did

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you ever hear anything so horrible?” Cass shivered. “Don’t think of it. It does no good." Clive paced the floor. He tortured himself. Cass whirled to 6ee the nurse at the door, finger on lip. “She's conscious. She's asking for her mother." Quick as lightning Cass was in the room, at the bedside. The girl on the pillow stirred as one waking from a long sleep. She spoke. “How did you get here, mother?” she asked in a faint, perfectly natural voice. “Aren’t you playing today?" Cass strove for control. She was not an actress for nothing. “Silly child, it's Monday! Who ever heard of a matinee on Monday?” “I forgot.” The girl sighed a little and shifting ever so lightly under the tautened bed clothes, cushioned her cheek in her palm. Cass managed to smile at her. “Don’t talk now. Just rest. I’ll sit here and hold your hand.” “So tired," the girl in the white bed murmured, faintly. She slept again. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE WHEN Liane awoke her temperature was normal. The nurse turned a beaming gaze on the two watchers and rustled starchily to make a notation on her chart. Liane said softly, “Oh Clive, you here?” He stood at the foot of the bed. “Yes. Hope you don’t mind.” “Glad.” She drowsed again. Cass flung her arms around him as they stood outside in the corridor once more. She whispered, "Let’s go some place, where I can sit down and have a good cry. She’s going to get well.” His grip on her shoulder hurt. “Can I take you anywhere?” “I’ve got to be at the theater by 7:30, but you stay right here. I know you want to. The show must go on." He said “I know,” but his thoughts were elsewhere. He found himself grinning fatuously at everything and nothing. “The car is downstairs. Tell Kelly to take you back to town.” “Thanks.” She rang for the elevator. She ran back to say to Mm. “Call me the instant there’s any change. For the better, I mean. It’s going to be nothing but that from now on. I know that.” He was alone now with his thoughts. Miss Bunce whisked in and out, clean, impersonal and efficient. “That’s a nice boy," the nurse thought. “Lucky girl, to have such a husband. Some girls get all the breaks.” a a a SPRING had come back to Willow Stream when at last Liane was able to be moved. A tentative, wistful sort of spring. The young buds were on the trees. The crocuses were up in the gardens around the big house. Mrs. Cleespaugh still was in Italy, but she had cabled her son to open the place and recall the servants. Clive had wanted to take Liane south, but the doctor had advised against it. He had said she was not strong enough for travel yet. So she returned to the big rosecurtained boudoir which had sheltered her last summer. What ages it seemed since then! How much had happened and how much older and wiser she felt! She tried to talk to Clive one day, to tell him something of what was in her heart. But she still was too weak for this. The tears brimmed over and her voice broke when she tried. Clive had been wrung by her frailty, her humility on this occasion. “Please don’t try to talk about our affairs now," he had pleaded. “Later we can straighten everything out. Don’t worry. Think of me as a big brother, a guardian, anything you like. Only please don’t fret.” “You're too good to me,” she had managed to say brokenly. She did not see him often these days. He went to the city on an early train and came out on a late one. Usually she dined in her room. During the morning she was

wheeled out into the sun and for long hours she sat wrapped in a rug, her hands the merest transparencies against her furs, contemplating the loveliness around her. The lawns were beginning to show a hint of the green luxuriance which would later overrun them. Nora brought roses from the small conservatory almost daily. a a u LIANE had plenty of opportunity to contemplate her folly, her mistakes. She felt overwhelmed by the enormity of them. How wrong she had been to marry Clive and later to think of Van Robard as the man to whom she might have given all her love! She had learned something new about life in the days since she began to struggle back to health in that narrow hospital room. She had thought, “I am sick of love and loving. Life itself is enough. There is too much talk of love.” Then she began to walk again, to take anew interest in her surroundings—in books, flowers for the table, frocks and all the little things which go to make up the fabric of living. Clive’s attitude was perfect. He was all consideration, friendly kindness. She might have been any girl, consigned to his affectionate care. He might have been an elderly uncle. She could not tell exactly when she began to resent this attitude of his. The feeling developed so gradually that she did not actually know when it had started. In May, when she was perfectly well again, she began to wonder a little jealously why he stayed in town so many evenings. Once he spoke, quite casually, of Tressa. “You’ve seen her?” “Oh, yes. She dropped in one day about a week ago to ask my advice about some of her investments. She has no head for business, you know.” “I see." Liane said no more, but the tumult of her feeling had astonished and appalled her. Tressa, so attractive and desirable, looking at Clive across the intimacy of a small table. Tressa, letting those beautiful emerald eyes of hers glow ineffable nothings at the tall, handsome young man opposite. She had felt a storm of rage possess her, but she had left no sign of this be revealed. ana WHAT could be more natural, she asked herself, than that Clive should admire so warm and glowing, so vibrant a woman as Tressa Lord? A man wanted something more of his wife, surely, than a cold handclasp and an impersonal friendship. Clive would be perfectly within his rights if he asked for his freedom. Tressa was of his own world. She had shown, early and often, that she loved him. Fiercely Liane decided she did not wish to let him go. She acknowledged her failure as a wife, but shrank from the idea of letting him go so tamely. This stern-lipped young man with the blue eyes, so broad-shouldered and well groomed in his English tweeds, so gentle and courteous, caught and held her fancy now. (To Be Continued)

STICKLERS

The object of the puzzle is to remove eight of the checkers, shown above, and leave the ninth in the center square. You can make the moves by jumping one checker over another, to the vacant squares and removing the jumped checkers. Jump in any direction. The point is to do the stunt in the fewest possible moves. II

Answer for Yesterday

rAi tMk If five cubes and three cones balance three cubes and six cones, ! 2 cones will be required to balance eight cubes. This is solved by the process of elimination. Five cubes, three cones equal three cubes, six cones. Eliminate three cubes and three cones from each side and "two cubes will balance three cones. Thus 12 , cones will balance eight cubes.

TARZAN, LORD OF THE JUNGLE

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Blake did not run his sword through his ' fallen foe as the crowd expected. Instead, looking up at Prince Gobred, he said: ‘‘Here is a brave knight with whom I have no real quarrel. I spare him to your service, noble Prince—and to those who love him,” and his eyes went straight to the eyes of the Princess Guinalda. Then he turned and walked back along the front of the grandstand to his own tilt.

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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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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Knights, ladies, men-at-arms, freemen and serfs stood upon their seats and shouted their applause. The men in Blake’s tilt, ashamed before, thus being detailed to what they believed to be the losing side, wore proud grins and now looked upon Jimmy as the greatest hero in Nimmr. As Blake was being divested of his armor, Sir Richard said: “Thou hast done a noble thing, my friend, but I know not if it be wise one.”

—By Ahern

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“You didn’t think I would stick the poor mutt when he was down, did you?” demanded Blake. “ ’Tis what he would have done to thee had the positions been reversed,” said Richard. “His jealousy of thee will be by no means lessened by what has transpired this day. Thou hast added envy to his hatred because thou hast overpowered him. Sir Malud will never forgive thee, my friend, I kaow the man.’*

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

That night a feast was held in the huge hall of the castle. It all presented a wild and fascinating sight to Sir Jimmy Blake. Towards its end the Prince himself proposed a toast to “Sir James, our most noble and chivalrous knight of Nimmr.’’ Blake’s eyes looked toward Guinalda. He saw her stand and drink the toast, her eyes regarding him. But whether her glance carried a message of friendship or disdain, he could not teli

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin