"I remembered-the turquoise was
your birth-stone, and you liked to
wear it," he sid. "The other one
was a topaz." '
It flashed upon her that she had no
reason to suspect him, and she
thanked him, and kissed him for the
About a week after this a friend m
the city telephoned, inviting her to a
matinee. She accepted, and took the
next train in. Arthur had tokl her
he would hot be home to dinner, and
she did not need tq hurry home.
After the performance, Helen wished
to make a few purchases, and they
concluded to dine together in a near
by restaurant. They went in early,
but the place was already well 'filled.
"This is a great place for stage
people," said her friend, , Marian.
"You see, thev have to dine early."
She pointed out spme prominent
people of the, stage. "6b you see
that girl over there in the big blue
hat? , Well, she rs in the front row
in 'The Girl Prom Sweden.' Pretty,'
isn't sbo? But awfully made up."
"Yes," responded Helen, "she is
pretty, and she is laying herself out
to captivate that man, whoever he
is." - ,
The man's back was toward them,
and a "waiter at that moment quite
hid him from view. As the waiter
.moved away, the man turned to
speak to him. Marias hoped Helen
had not seen him, but it'needed no
word to tell her she had.' It was her
husband. .He had not. seen Helen,
and she hoped he would not She
hated scenes, and she went "through
a pretense of dining, though her
friend saw it was forced,, and deeply
sympathized with her.
Gradually from talkative friends
she learned that Arthur May's devo
tion to this chorus girl was well
known on Broadway. She said noth
ing, but waited.
One day in the city, having crossed i
the street, just as she reached the
curb, she heard a scream behind her.
A woman had fallen, and an autonio- .
bile was swerving away from her.
Helen was flfst to go to her, and help
her to her feet. She seemed scarcely,
able to walk, and a policeman of
fered to call an ambulance. She re
fused, asking him instead to call i
"Wouldn't you like me to go home
with you?" asked Helen.
'.'Oh, would you?" she begged.
"There isn't a soul there to do a
thing for me, and something has hap
pened to my arm."
Helen got into the taxi with her.
She had recognized her fellow-passenger.
She was the girl in the res
taurant, with whom she had seen her
"Good heavens!!' wailed the girl,
"I have this won't lay me up. I've
got to get to-the theater."
It was a very pretty apartment,
handsomely furnished, that they en
tered. Helen bathed and bound up
the injured arm. She helped to re
move the girl's clothes,' get her into
a neglige, and see that she was com
fortably disposed on a couch. Th&
ministration of a sister could not
haverbeen gentler or more consider
ate. VI think you are an angel," said
the girl; "just an all-wool, yard wide
angel. Won't you let me ha'tje your
name, and address?"
Helen parried the question by ask
ing the girl's name. -
"Oh, I'm Florrie Parks in 'The
Girl From Sweden.' "
She rose, and dragged herself,
limping, to the telephone. She called
a familiar number to Helen. To ftide
her agitation, Helen turned away. A
diamond pendant on the dressing
table caught her eye. She picked it
up'and turned it over. On the reverse
side was the inscription:"" "Florrie
from A." This was the jewel he had
not wished her to see.
"Arthur, dearie," she heard her
saying through the telephone, "do
come as soon as you can, I'm pretty
badly banged up. There's the dear
est woman here. She's done all sorts
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