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.. ..... I l l III—III m ini ii rr ~r-.......... rtata3JK"»rj 3 ir)À seal : vj> W w By E. PHILLIPS GRAILLOT, THE PLAYWRIGHT, WARNS LOUISE THAT BOTH THE PRINCE OF SEYRE AND JOHN LOVE HER, AND THAT THE PRINCE WILL BE A DANGEROUS ENEMY TO HIS RIVAL Synopsis.—Louise Maurel, famous actress, was making a motor tour of the English Cumberland district, when her car broke down late one evening and she was forced to accept the overnight hospitality of Ste phen and John Strangewey, recluse woman haters living in a splendid old mansion on a great farm. Before she left next day she had capti vated John and he had fascinated her. Three months inter John, on a sudden impulse, went to London and looked up Louise. She was de lighted to see him and introduced him to lier friends of the artistic and dramatic world, among them Sophy, a light-hearted little actress, and Graillot, a playwright of remarkable mental gifts. The prince of Seyre, a wealthy French noble, whom he already knew, became his guide, and he entered the gay bohemian life of the city. CHAPTER VIII—Continued. — 5 — The lights were lowered a few min iutes later, and John paid the bill. }, "We've enjoyed our supper," Louise »whispered, as they passed down the fc-oom. "The whole evening has been .delightful !" I As they drove from Luigi's to jKnightsbridge, Louise leaned back in 5ier corner. Although her eyes were only half closed, there was an air of aloofness about her, an obvious lack of jdesire for conversation, which the oth ers found themselves Instinctively re specting. Even Sophy's light-hearted 'chatter seemed to have deserted her, «omewhat to John's relief, f They were in the very vortex of London's midnight traffic. The night was warm for the time of year, and about Leicester square and beyond the pavements were crowded with pedes trians, the women lightly and gayly clad, flitting, notwithstanding some sin ister note about their movements, like butterflies or bright-hued moths along the pavements and across the streets. JThe procession of taxicabs and auto mobiles, each with its human freight pf men and women in evening dress on their way home after an evening s pleasure, seemed endless. Presently Sophy began to talk, and Louise, too roused herself. I "I am only just beginning to realize, the latter said, "that you are actually In London." "When I leave you," he replied, I. too, shall And it hard to believe that we have actually met again and talked. There seems to be so much that I have to say," he added, looking at her close ly, "and I have said nothing." "There Is plenty of time," she told him. and once more the signs of that slight nervousness were apparent in her manner. "There are weeks and months ahead of us.' , . , "When shall I see you again? he "Whenever you like. There are no re hearsals far a day or two. .*' n K ® e on the telephone you will fl " ( number In the book-^or come and lunch with me tomorrow, if you 1 ' ke ; "Thank you," he answered that just what I should like. At what time? "Half past one. I will not ask either — Mr. smns»»«." she .aid. Uff« her «*« to his "Good nißht . , He helped her out, rang the hell, and watched her vanish through the swlft watcheu Then he stepped back IntoThe taxicab Sophy retreated into ^"YTa'rVgoTngto'take me home, are y Tf 1 ouie!" H he e reP^ d ' hls eyeS ^ to It "Of course, • * t upon the fixed with a sh ige - g mtle house, closed door of 8tre et" he told 10 Southampton street, They SX.ÄSL'*-*""- so»"- 11 »'" "Ttunttd ™»na a« «P"" » more into the network of Ijnnc .Tflhn lient, «»a while, humored him. &OJL - with perfect seri ° U TSiieve so," he admitted, "but I . 1 m !nt like to say that I am abso SiLTrtI I naee come here .. *t.p£Ladeu' S rocked tC l'ïon «re the dMred. nneeres^d«^ I hare erer ".et . *£_" ïotl Blt holdlns tishtly » ]ons ns 0 „adle, there with a » are in love WO H der rfrl<Tr not! Well, I am not go are you tired?" — hir he declared. "I never ÄÄ™ ,lte "OSS t»-»«SE w. « jejted, "end eec the dancla*. We just have something to drink, needn't have any more supper." The eab stopped a few minutes later outside what seemed to be a private house. The door was opened at once. Sophy wrote John's name in a book, and they were ushered by the manager, who had come forward to greet them, into a long room, brilliantly lit, and filled, except in the center, with sup per tables. John looked around him wonderingly. The popping of cham pagne corks was almost incessant. A lightly voluptuous atmosphere of cigarette smoke, mingled with the per fumes shaken from the clothes and hair of the women, several more of whom were now dancing, hung about the place. A girl in fancy dress was passing a great basket of flowers from table to table. Sophy sat with her head resting upon her hands and her face very close to her companion's, keeping time with her feet to the music. "Isn't this rather nice?" she whis pered. "Do you like being here with me, Mr. John Strangewey?" Of course I do," he answered heart ily. "Is this a restaurant?" She shook her head. "No, It's a club. We can sit here all night, if you like." "Can I join?" he asked. She laughed as she sent for a form and made him fill it In. "Tell me," he begged, as he looked around him, "who are these girls? They look so pretty and well-dressed, and yet so amazingly young to be out at this time of night." "Mostly actresses," she replied, "and musical-comedy girls, I was in musi cal comedy myself before Louise res cued me." "Did you like it?" "I liked It all right," she admitted, "but I left it because I wasn't doing any good. I can dance pretty well, but I have no voice, so there didn't seem to be any chance of my getting out of the chorus; and one can't even pretend to live on the salary they pay you, un less one has a part." "But these girls who are here to night?" "They are with their friends, of course," she told hlm. "I suppose, If I i It hadn't been for Louise I should have ; been here, too—with a friend. j "I should like to see you dancehe ] remarked, m a hurry to change the hurry to change the conversation. "I'll dance to you some day in your rooms, if you like," she promised. "Or would you like me to dance here? There is a man opposite who wants me T ? ft «If We Were Atone," She Whispered 'I should Want You to Kies Me!" he Insisted, to. Would you rather I didn't? I want to" do just which would please you most." "Dance, by all means "T «mould like to watch you." and a minute or two She nodded, . later she had joined the small crowd In SäSiää table opposite. John leaned back in his Place and watched her admiringly. Her feet scarcely touched the ground. She never once glanced at or spoke to ! , n her partner, but every time she passed the corner where John was sitting, she looked at him and smiled. His eyes grew brighter, and he smiled back at her. She suddenly re leased her hold upon her partner and stretched out her arms to him. Her . body swayed backward a little. She waved her hands with a gesture in finitely graceful, sul*ly alluring. Her lips were parted w ith a smile almost of triumph as she once more rested her hand upon her partner's shoulder. "Who is your escort this evening? the latter asked her, speaking almost for the first time. "You would not know him," she re plied. "lie is a Mr. John Strangewey, and he comes from Cumberland. "just happens that I do know him. the young man remarked. "Thought I'd seen his face somewhere. 1'sed to he up at the varsity with him. Ill speak to him presently." •T expect he'll be glad to meet you again,'* Sophy remarked. 'He doesii t know a soul in town." The dance was finished. They re turned together to where John was sitting, and the young man held out a weary hand. "Amerton. you know, of Magdalen, lie said. "You're Strangewey, aren't "Lord Amerton, of course!" John ex claimed. "I thought your face was fa miliar. Why, we played in the rackets doubles together!" "And won 'em, thanks to you," Amer ton replied. "Are you up for long? "I am not quite sure," John told him. "I only arrived last night." "Look me up some time, if you've nothing better to do, ' the young man suggested. "Where are you hanging out?" j ! i ! i î "The Milan." "I am at the Albany. So-long! Musi get back to my little lady." He bowed to Sophy and departed. She sank a little breathlessly into her chair and laid her band on John's arm. Her cheeks were flushed, her bosom was rising and falling quickly. "I am out of breath," she said, her head thrown back, perilously near to John's shoulder. "Lord Amerton dances well. Give me some champagne!" "And you—you dance divinely," he told her, as he filled her glass. "If we were alone," she whispered, "I should w unt you to kiss me !" The stem of the wine glass In John's fingers snapped suddenly, and the wine trickled down to the floor. A passing waiter hurried up with a napkin, and a fresh glass was brought. The affair was scarcely noticed, but John re mained disturbed and a little pale. "Have you cut your hand?" Sophy asked anxiously. "Not at all," be assured her. "How hot It Is here ! Do you mind If we go?" "Go?" she exclaimed disconsolately. "I thought you were enjoying yourself so much!" "So I am," he answered, "but I don't quite understand—" He paused. "Understand what?" she demanded. I "Myself, if you must know." i She set down the glass which she ; -- been . Q the act of ra ising to her j ] queer yQU are! „ she mnr . ,-----, ,, r V nn haven't got a "How queer you are mured. ''Listen. You haven t wife or anything up in Cumberland, have you?" answered. "You know I haven't," he answered. "You're not engaged to be married, you have no ties, you came up here per fectly free, you haven't even said any thing yet—to Louise?" "Of course not." "Well, then—" she began. Her words were so softly spoken that they seemed to melt away. She leaned forward to look in his face. "Sophy," he begged, with sudden and almost passionate earnestness, "be kind to me, please! I am Just a sim ple, stupid countryman, who feels as If he had lost his way. I have lived a solitary sort of life—an unnatural one. you would say—and I've been brought up with some old-fashioned Ideas. I know they are old-fashioned, but I can't throw them overboard all at once. I have kept away from this sort of thing. I didn't think it would ever at tract me—I suppose because I didn't believe it could be made so attractive. I have suddenly found out—that it does !" "What are you going to do?' she whispered. "There is only one thing for me to do," he answered. "Until I know what I have come io London to lea-m, I shall fight against It." "You mean about Louise?" "I mean about Louise," lie said gravely. Sophy came still closer to him. "Why are you so foolish?" she mur mured. "Louise Is very wonderful, in her pUice, but she Is not what you want in life. Has it never occurred to you ! . . _ j that you may be too late "What do you mean? he demanded. I believe what the world believes. , , — — : pnnee of Seyre. 'Has she ever told you so?" Louise never speaks of these things mly telling to any living soul. I am you what 1 think. I am trying to save you pain—trying for my own sake a4 well as yours." He paid his bill and stooped to help her with her cloak. Her heart sank, her lips quivered a little. It seemed to her that he had passed to a great distance. "Very soon," John said, "I shall ask Louise to tell me the trurti. I think that 1 shell ask her, if I can, tomor row !" CHAPTER IX. at the Milan was. John's first cai! in a way. a surprise to him. He was sitting smoking au after-breakfast pipe on the following morning, and j gazing at the telephone directory, when j his bell rang. He opened the door, to ; find the prince of Seyre standing ou. ! side. „ ! i -T pay you a very early visit, I fear, j the latter began. ; ! "Not at all," John replied, taking the j pipe from his mouth and throwing open the door. "It is very good of you j i to come and see me. ' , The prince followed John into the j î little sitting room. He was dressed, as ^ usual, with scrupulous care. His tie was fastened with a wonderful pearl, j and his fingers were perhaps a trifle | overmanicured. He wore a bunch of Parma violets in his buttonhole, and he carried with him a very faint but un usual perfume, whicli seemed to John like the odor of delicate green tea. i It was just these details, and the slow- ; ness of his speech, which alone ac- ; centuuted his foreign origin. "It occurred to me," he said, as he seated himself in an easy chair, "that if you are really intending to make this experiment in town life of which Miss Maurel spoke, I might be of some as sistance to you. There are certain matters, quite unimportant in them selves, concerning which a little ad vice in the beginning may save you trouble." to I i "Very good of you, I am sure," John repeuted. "To tell you the truth. I was just looking through the telephone directory to see if I could come across the name of a tailor I used to have some things from." "If It pleases you to place yourself in my hands," the prince suggested, "I will introduce you to my own trades people. I have made the selection with some care. I have, fortunately, an idle morning, and it is entirely at your disposal. At half past one I believe we are both lunching with Miss Mau rel." John was conscious of a momentary sense of annoyance. His tete-a-tete with Louise seemed farther off than ever. At the prince's suggestion, how ever, he fetched his hat and gloves and entered the former's automobile, which was waiting below. They spent the morning In the neigh borhood of Bond street, and John had the foundations of a wardrobe more extensive than any he hnd ever dreamed of possessing. At half past one they were shown into Louise's little drawing room. There were three or four men already present, standing around their hostess and sipping some faint yellow cordial from long Vene tian glasses. Louise came forward to meet them, and made a little grimace as she re marked the change in John's appear ance. "Honestly, I don't know you, and I don't believe I like you at all !" she ex claimed. "How dare you transform yourself into a tailor's dummy in this fashion?" "It was done entirely out of respect for you," John said. "In fact," the prince added, 'we con , . ... „„.hör pidered time ive bad achleped rat * el-1 ".'suppose 1 nwM loot u„oa four fort as a compliment." ! 'but it ! vou take up our much o y • ... M s lraD ge- 1 manners and our habits. Mr. Strange-! as easily as you wear our i wey, clothes?" "That I cannot promise," he replied. "The brain should adapt Itself at least as readily as the body," the prince remarked, M. Graillot, who was one of the three men present, turned around. "Who Is talking platitudes?" he de manded. "I write plays, and that is my monopoly. Ah, It Is the prince, I And our young friend who inter see. _____ rupted us at rehearsal yesterday." Graillot held out his left hand to the | prince and Ins right to John. "Mr. Strangewey," he said, "I con gratulate you! Any person who has the good fortune to interest Miss Man rel Is to be congratulated. Yet must I j look at you and feel myself puzzled, j You are not an artist—no? Y'»u do not paint or write?" John shook his head. "Mr. Strangewey's claim to distinc tion is that he is just an ordinary man," Louise observed. "Such a relief, you know, after all you clever people '," John shook hands with everybody and sippi'd the contents of the glass which had been handed to him. Then . a butler opened the dcor and an offer«*»! 1 er »pped buck.j •ge of the i he decided. ' ! , ith a liCIe : the way to apolo ronien to the tele nounced luncheon. L hand to the prince, wl "It shall be the I stranger within our ga Louise turned to J* smile. "Let me show you. then, to my dining room. I ought, gize for not asking some meet you. I tried two on phone, hut they were engaged.'' "I will restore the balance," the prince promised, turning from the con templation of one of the prints hut ing in the hall. "I am Riviug a supper party tonight for Mr. Strangewey, an : I will promise hiin a preponderance >? your charming sex." "Am I invited?" Louise inquired, The prince shook his bend. "Alas, no!" They passed into a small din ng room and here again John noticed that an absolute simplicity was paramount. ; ! g v it Yw i i I ; ! ! j ; 1 Want to Sea You Alone," Ho Said "When Can 1?" | in£r .. ' The round table, covered with an ex quisitely fine cloth, was very simply laid. There was a little glas3 of the finest quality, and a very little silver. For flowers there was only one bowi, a brilliant patch of some scarlet exotic, In the center. "A supper party to which I tun not, Invited," said Louise, as she took her i place at the table and motioned John to a seat by her side, "fills me w ith J curiosity. Who are to be your guests, prince?" "Calavera and her sprites," the j prince announced. Louise paused for a moment in the J act of helping herself to hors d'oeuvres. ' She glanced toward the prince. For a moment their eyes met. Louise s lips were faintly curled. It was almost as if a challenge had passed between them. Louise devoted her attention to her guest. "First of all," she asked, "tell me how you like my little friend?" "I think she is charming," John an swered without hesitation. "We went to a supper club last night and stayed there till about half past three." "Really," said Louise, "I am not sure that I approve of tins ! A supper dub with Sophy until half past three in the morning!" He looked at her quickly, "You don't mind?" "My dear man, why should I mind?" she returned. "It is exactly what I hoped for. You have come up to Lon don with a purpose. You have an ex periment to make, an experiment in I 'The greater part of my experi ; mm< „ hf , pIlinted oati -„„ds the help •» »«U <- P«"-* •"« " ! '°she • , S ! moved a little uneasily in chair. It might have been his fancy, hut he Imagined that she glanced un ^ ^ ÄMllria nrin0f , of der her eyelids toward the prince of Seyre. The prince, however, had turned almost ostentatiously away friVin her. He was leaning across the table, talking to Faraday. "You have not lost your gift of plain speech," she observed. "So de lightful In Cumberland and Utopia, so impracticable here!" "Then since we can't find Utopia, come back to Cumberland," he .sug gested. A reminiscent smile played for a , moment about her lips, "I wonder," she murmured whether I shall ever again see that dear, won derful old house of yours, and the niist on the hills, and the stars shining here and there througti it, and the moon coming up in the distance "' "All these things you will s e again," he assured her confidently, "It is be cause I want you to sec them again that I am here." "Just now, at this minute, I feel a longing for them," she whispered, look ing across the table, out of the win dow, to the softly waving trees. At the close of the luncheon for a j moment she and John were detached from the others. i "I want under his She hesi " - 1 am Next v.ee mi ulotn ••When e ,-ai<* pm et urn* broil;. ; it with yot: win h 1 ft ! tnv firm b« breath, iîqted. so busy!" she murmured, k there are rehearsals nearly every minute of the day." "Tomorrow." John said insistently. "You luiv* no rehearsals lîw n. I must see vou. i must talk to you without this crowd." it was ills n^yuent. ll*-r iialf fortned resolutions fell away hefora tin* compelling ring in his voice and the earnest pleading in his eyes. 'I will be in." she promised. "u>o»or row at six o'clock." After the departure of her guests, Louise stood before the window of lier drawing room, looking down into tho street. Sti saw tin' prince courteously motion John to precede him into hi* waiting automobile. Site watched un til the car took it c prface in the stream flic and disappear« d. The sens* of uneasiness Which had brought her to the window was unaccountable, but it seemed in some way deepened by their departure together. 'I hen a voice from just behind startled her. It wa* Graillot, who had returned noi«ele*sly j into tiie room. d," be explained. "An im ht me buck. A thought v tuir d. I wanted to slum» is a proof of th»> sentiment exists between us. It is ef that the same thought, in a «lift-rent guise, was traveling through your mind, as jou watched the departure of your guests." She motioned him to a place upon th* couch, close to where siio had already seated herself. "Come," she invited, "prove to m* that you are a thought reader!" He sank hack in his corner. His hands, with their short, stubby finger», were clasped in front of him. Hls eyes, wide open and alert, seemed fixed upon her with the Ingenuous inquisitiveness of a child. i J j J ' a "To begin, then, I find our friend, the prince of Seyre, a most interesting, 1 might almost say fascinating, study." Louise did not reply. After a mo ment's pause, he continued. "Among the whole aristocracy of France there was no family so loathed and detested as the seigneurs of Seyr* at the time of the revolution. Those at the chateau lu Orleans and others who were arrested in Paris, met their death with singular contempt and calm. Eugene of Seyre, whose character la my small way I have studied, Is of thd same breed." Louise took up a fan which lay on the table by her side, and waved It carelessly in front of her face. "One does so love," she murniure<3, • to hear one's friends discussed in a , friendly spirit!" S "It is because Eugene of Seyre is * friend of yours that I am talking to you in this fashion," Graillot contin ued. "You have also another friend— ! this young man from Cumberland." "Well?" "In him," Graillot went on, "one per ceives ul! the primitive qualities which go to the making of splendid manhood. Physically he is almost perfect, for which alone we owe him a debt of gratitude. He has, if I judge him rightly, all the qualities possessed by men w ho have been brought up fre* from the taint of cities, from the smear of our spurious overcivilization. He 1» chivalrous and unsuspicious. He is also, unfortunately for him, the enemy of the prince." Louise laid down her fan. She no longer tried to conceal her agitation. "Why are you so melodramatic?" she demanded. "They have scarcely spo ken. This is, I think, their third meet ing." "When two friends," Graillot de clared, "desire the same woman, then ail of friendship that there may hav* been between them is buried. When two others, who are so far from being friends that they possess opposite qualities, opposite characters, opposite characteristics, also desire the sain* woman—" "Don't !" Louise interrupted, with a sudden little scream. "Don't! Yon are talking wildly. You must not say such things !" Graillot leaned forward. He shook his head very slowly; his heavy hand rested upon her shoulder. be a Do you think that Louise ha« been too close a friend to the prince? And is John Strange wey, with hls old-fashioned ideas of rectitude, a fool to be letting himself fall head over heels in iove with her? ( TO BE CONT INUED.) Rough Stough. To indicate some of the difficult!*, that our language presents to foreim ers, a subscriber sends us this- "i sat on the bough of a tree and began to cough, having some dough in m mouth and my feet in a trough I JZ a j not thoroughly tired, though rou hi used. Wasn't that tough?"--Yo i Companion. oujj?