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THE REAL MAN
By Frances Elizabeth Lanyon
(Copyright, 1916, W. G. Chapman)
"Marie, this is simply awful!"
"Oh mamma, mamma, why did you
ever discover it!"
"Lucky I did !" snapped Mrs. Leeds.
"Do you wish to have, your husband
up to all kinds of misdoings and you
ignorant of it?"
"Yes, I do, rather than have my
heart broken. Oh, he is false, false,
and I wish I was dead!" and pretty
Nellie Brierly, the bride of a year,
burst into a torrent of sobs and tears.
"Don't get hysterical now," chided
her practical, hard headed mother.
"We don't know that its all as bad as
we think. Of course, the evidence
looks conclusive, but we must watch
and wait Leave it to me, I'll soon
know more. Trust me!"
This had happened: Mrs. Leeds had
come to visit her daughter. She was
a fussy, meddling individual. She had
come across a coat of her son-in-law
in his wardrobe and sat at work to
sew on a loose button. Then, feeling
something in one of its pockets, she
investigated to find a part of a writ
ten sheet and a photograph tied to
gether with a bit of pink scented rib
bon. The portrait was that of a charm
ing faced young girl. The fragment
of paper read: "I go away believing
that you love me. I shall come back
firm in that same faith. I only hope
my parents will see your proposal in
a more favorable light, for if I do not
marry you I shall not marry any
other."
Both photograph and letter were
crumpled and looked time worn. Ap
parently Walter Brierly had loved
someone besides Nellie in the past,
had never told Nellie about it and
still cherished those mementoes of
his old love.
Nellie tried to keep cheerful and
not let Walter -see that she distrusted
him, for, as she came to think of her
own old-time 'beaux, she did not con
sider a past flame of her husband so
highly reprehensible, after all. But
her mother stirred up things. One
day she came to her daughter duly
excited.
"Nellie," she said, "I'm sorry to
disturb your peace of mind, but it is
necessary."
"What now, mamma?" inquired
Nellie.
"Among the letters which came
for your husband this morning one
Written Sheet and a Photograph
was addressed in a feminine hand
writing. I steamed it"
"Oh mamma, never!" cried Nellie.
"And read it Don't look at me as
if I was a thief. I'm your own moth
er and I'm going to protect your in
terests. It was signed 'Lucia Dave
nant,' it gave her address. It's in
1 the same handwriting as the scrap J
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