The citizen., January 29, 1915, Image 3

About The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923

Image provided by: University of Maryland, College Park, MD

                
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COPYRI&HT 1914- ,'S’’ DODD,A\EAD <sp CQMIWT'Jt/
SYNOPSIS.
A curious crowd of neighbors Invade
am mysterious home of Judge Ostrander,
jaunty judge and eccentric recluse, fol
lowing a veiled woman who has gained
>ntrance through the gates of the high
double barriers surrounding the place.
The woman lias disappeared but the Judge
>s found in a cataleptic state. Bela, ids
servant, appears in a dying condition and
prevents entrance to a secret door. Bela
dies. The judge awakes. Miss Weeks
explains to him what lias occurred during
his seizure. He secretly discovers the
whereabouts of the veiled woman. She
proves to be the widow of a man tried
beforo the Judge and electrocuted for mur
der years before. Her daughter Is en
gaged to the judge's son. from whom he is
estranged, but the murder is between the
lovers.
CHAPTER IV—Continued.
But she would not be denied. She
thrust It upon him and once his eyes
had fallen up it, they clung there,
though evidently against his will. Ah,
she knew that Reuther’s exquisite
countenance would plead for itself!
Ckd seldom grants to such beauty so
lovely a spirit. If the features them
selves failed to appeal, certainly he
must feel the charm of an expression
which had already netted so many
hearts. Breathlessly she watched him,
and, ae she watched, she noted the
heavy lines carved in his face by
thought and possibly by sorrow,
slowly relax and his eyes fill with a
wistful tenderness.
“Parents must learn to endure bit
terness. I have not been exempt my
self from such. Your child will not
(He. You have years of mutual com
panionship before you, while I have
nothing. And now let us end this in
terview, so painful to us both. You
have said —"
“No,” she broke in with sudden
vehemence, all the more startling from
the restraint In which she had held
herself up to this moment, "I have
aot said—l have not begun to say
what seethes like a consuming fire in
my breast. I spoke of a miracle —will
you not listen, judge? lam not wild;
f am not unconecious of presumption,
f am only In earnest, in deadly ear
nest. A miracle is possible. The gulf
between these two may yet be
spanned. I see a way—”
What change was this to which she
had suddenly become witness? The
face which had not lost all its underly
ing benignancy even when it looked
its coldest, had now become settled
and hard. His manner was absolutely
repellent as he broke in with the quick
disclaimer:
"But there is no way. What mir
acle could ever make your daughter,
lovely as she undoubtedly is, a fitting
match for my son! None, madam, ab
solutely none. Such an alliance would
he monstrous; unnatural.”
“Why ?” The word came out boldly.
'Because her father died the death
of a oriminal?”
The answer was equally blunt.
“Yea; a criminal over whose trial
bte father presided as Judge.”
Quick ae a flash, however, came the
retort.
“A judge, however, who showed him
every consideration possible. I was
told at the time and I have been as
sured by many since that you were
more than just to him in your rulings,
.fudge Ostrander”—he had taken a
step toward the hall door; but he
paused at this utterance of his name—
“answer me this one question. Why
did you do this? You must have bated
him deeply—your feeling for Mr. Eth
eridge was well know'n. Then why
such magnanimity toward the man
who stood on trial for killing him?”
Unaccustomed to be questioned,
though living in an atmosphere of con
tinual yes and no, he stared at the
veiled features of one who so dared, as
if he found it bard to excuse such pre
sumption. But be answered her nev
ertheless, and with decided emphasis:
“Possibly because his victim was
my friend and lifelong companion. A
Judge fears his own prejudices."
“Possibly; but you had another rea
son, judge; a reason which justified
you in your own eyes at the time and
which justifies you, in mine now and
always. Am I not right? This is no
courtroom; the case is one of the past;
it can never be reopened; the pris
oner is dead. Answer me, then, as one
sorrowing mortal replies to another,
hadn't you another reason?”
The judge, panoplied though he was
or thought he wae, against all conceiv
able attack, winced at this repetition
of a question he had hoped to Ignore,
and in his anxiety to hide this involun
tary betrayal of weakness allowed his
anger to have full vent, as he cried out
In no measured terms:
“What is the meaning of all this?
What are you after? Why are you
raking up these bygones, which only
make the present condition of affairs
darker and more hopeless? Oliver
Ostrander, under no circumstances
and by means of no sophistries, can
ever marry the daughter of John Sco
vllle. I should think you would see
that for yourself.”
“But if John should be proved to
have suffered wrongfully? If he should
be shown to have been innocent?”
Ills rebuke was quick, instant. With
a force and earnestness which recalled
the courtroom he replied:
Madam, your hopes and wishes
have misled you. Your husband was
a guilty man; as guilty a man as any
judge ever passed sentence upon.”
But he sworo the day I last vis
ited him in the prison, with his arms
pressed tight about me and his eye
looking straight Into mine as you are
looking now, that he never struck that
blow. 1 did not believe him then;
there were too many dark spots in my
memory of old lies premeditated and
destructive of my happiness; but I
believed him later, and I believe him
now.”
“Madam, this is quite unprofitable.
A jury of his peers condemned him as
guilty and the law compelled me to
pass sentence upon him. The inev
itable must be accepted. I have said
nay last word.”
“But not heard mine,” she panted.
“For mg to acknowledge the inevitable
where my daughter's life and happi
ness are concerned would make me
-seem a coward in my own eyes. Helped
or unhelped, with the sympathy or
without the sympathy of one who I
hoped would show himself my friend, l
shall proceed with the task to which
I have dedicated myself. You will
forgive me, judge. You see that John's
last declaration of Innocence goes fur
ther with me than your belief, backed
as it Is by the full weight of the law.”
Gazing at her as at one gone sud
denly demented, he said:
“I fall to understand you, Mrs.—l
will call you Mrs. Averili. You speak
of a task. What task?"
“The only one I have a heart for —
the proving that Reuther is not the
child of a willful murderer; that an
other man did the deed for which he
suffered. I can do it. I feel confident
that I can do It; and if you will not
help me—"
“Help you! After what I have said
and reiterated that he is guilty, guilty,
guilty?”
Advancing upon her with each repe
tlon of the word, he towered before
her, an imposing, almost formidable
figure. She faced again his anger,
which might well be righteous, and
with almost preternatural Insight bold
ly declared:
“You are too vehement to quite con
vince me. Judge Ostrander. Acknowl
edge it or not, there is more doubt
than certainty in your mind; a doubt
which ultimately will lead you to help
me. Then my way should broaden—
a way, at the end of which I see a
united couple—my daughter and your
son. Oh, she is worthy of him,” the
woman broke forth, as he made an
other repellent and imperative ges
ture. “ask anyone in the town where
we have lived.”
Abruptly and without apology for
his rudeness. Judge Ostrander turned
his back, then with a quick whirl about
which brought him face to face with
her once more, he impetuously asked:
“Madam, you were in my house this
morning. You came In through the
gate which Bela had left unlocked.
Will you explain how you came to do
this? Did you know that he was going
down street, leaving the way open be
hind him? Was there collusion be
tween you?”
Her eyes looked clearly Into his.
Slie felt that she had nothing to dis
guise or conceal.
“1 had urged him to do this. Judge
Ostrander. 1 had met him more than
once in the street when be went out
to do your errands, and I used all my
persuasion to induce him to give me
this one opportunity of pleading my
cause with you. He was your devoted
servant, he showed It In his death, but
he never got over his affection for
Oliver. I had listened to what folks
said. I had heard that you would receive
nobody; talk to nobody. Bela was my
only resource."
He was scrutinizing hpr keenly, and
for the first time
Whatever her station, past or present,
she was certainly no ordinary woman,
nor was her face without beauty, lit
as it was by passion and every ardor
of which a loving woman is capable.
No man would be likely to resist it un
less his armor were thrice forged.
Would he hlmeelf be able to? He be
gan to experience a cold fear—a dread
which drew a black veil over the fu
ture; a blacker veil than that which
had hitherto rested upon it.
But his face showed nothing. He
proceeded, with a piercing intensity
not to be withstood:
“When you entered my house this
morning did you come directly to my
room?” ' s
“Yes. Bela told me just how to
reach It.”
“And when you saw me indisposed—
unable, in fact, to greet you—what did
you do then?”
With the force and meaning of one
who takes an oath, she brought her
hand, palm downward on the table be
fore her, as she steadily replied:
"I flew back Into the room through
which I had come, undecided whether
to fly the house or wait for what might
happen to you. I did not dare to go
till Bela came back. So I stayed
watching in a dark corner of that
same room. ! never left It till the
THE CITIZEN, FREDERICK, MD.
erod'd came in. Then I slid out be
hind them.”
Was the child with you—at your
side I mean, all this time?”
"I never let go her hand.”
Woman, you are keeping nothing
back?"
"Nothing but my terror at the sight
of Bela running in all bloody to escape
the people pressing after him.”
Sincerity was in her manner and in
her voice. The judge breathed more
easily, and made the remark:
“No one with hearing unimpaired
can realize the suspicion of the deaf,
nor can anyone who is not subject to
attacks like mine conceive the doubts
with which a man so cursed views
those who have been active about him
while the world to him was blank.”
Thus he dismissed the present sub
ject, to surprise her by a renewal of
the old one.
“What are your reasons," said he,
for the hopes you have just ex
pressed? I think it your duty to tell
me before we go any further.
"Excuse me for tonight. What I
have to tell—or rather, what l have to
show you—requires daylight.” Then,
Ha Was Scrutinizing Her Keenly.
as she became conscious of his aston
ishment, added falterlngly:
“Have you any objection to meeting
me tomorrow on the bluff overlooking
Dark—”
The judge was looking at her; he
had not moved; nor had an eyelash
stirred, but the rest of that sentence
had stuck in her throat, and she found
herself standing as immovably quiet
as he.
“Why there?” he asked.
“Because”—her words came slowly,
haltingly, as she tremulously, almost
fearfully, felt her way with him—"be
cause—there—is—no other place
—where —l can made—my point.”
He smiled. It was his first smile
in years and naturally was a little
constrained —and, to her eyes at least,
almost more terrifying than his frown.
“Why have you waited till now?”
he called out, forgetful that they were
not alone in the house, forgetful, ap
parently, of everything but his sur
prise and repulsion. “Why not have
made use of this point before it was
too late? You were at your husband’s
trial; you were even on the witness
stand?”
She nodded, thoroughly cowed at
last both by his indignation and the
revelation contained in this question
of the judicial mind—" Why now, when
the time was then?”
Happily, she had an answer.
“Judge Ostrander, I had a reason
for that, too; and, like my point, it
is a good one. But do not ask me for
it tonight.' Tomorrow 1 will tell you
everything. But it will have to be
In the place I have mentioned. Will
you come to the bluff where the ruins
are one-half hour before sunset?
Please be exact as to the time. You
will see why, if you come.”
He leaned across the table—they
were on opposite sides of it—plunging
his eyes Into hers, then drew back, and
remarked with an aspect of gloom but
with much less the appearance of dis
trust:
“A very odd request, madam. I hope
you have good reason for It;” adding,
"I bury Bela tomorrow and the ceme
tery is in this direction. 1 will meet
you where you say and at the hour
you name.'
And, regarding him closely as he
spoke, she saw that for all the cor
rectness of bis manner and the bow
of respectful courtesy with which he
Instantly withdrew, that deep would
be his anger and unquestionable the
results to her if she failed to satisfy
him at this ipeeting of the value of
her point in reawakening justice and
changing public opinion.
CHAPTER V.
Excerpts.
One of the lodgers at the Claymore
inn had great cause for complaint the
next morning. A restless tramping
over his head had kept him awake all
night. That It was intermittent had
made it all the more Intolerable. Just
when he thought it had stopped It
-would start up again—to and fro, to
and fro, as regular as clockwork and
much more disturbing.
But the complaint never reached
Mrs. Averlll. The landlady had been
restless herself. Indeed, the night
had been one of thought and feeling
to more than one person in whom we
are interested. The reeling we can
understand; the thought—that is, Mrs.
AveriH’s thought-we should do well
to follow.
The one great question which had
agitated her was this: Should she trust
the judge? Ever since the discovery
which had changed Reuther's pros
pects she had instinctively looked to
this one source for aid and sympathy.
But her faith had been sorely shaken
in the interview just related. He was
not the friend she had hoped to find.
He had insisted upon her husband's
guilt, and he had remained unmoved,
or but very little moved, by the dis
appointment of his son—his only re
maining link to life. Judge Ostrander
might seem cold—both manner and
temper would naturally be much af
fected by his unique and solitary mode
of life—but at heart he must love Oli
ver. It was not in nature for it to
be otherwise. And yet—
It was at this point in her musing
that there came one of the breaks in
her restless pacing. She was always
of an impulsive temperament, and al
ways giving way to it. Sitting down
before paper and ink she wrote the
following lines:
My Darling If Unhappy Child:
I know that this sudden Journey on my
part must strike you as cruel, when, if
ever, you need your mother's presence
and care. But the love I feel for you,
my Reuther, Is deep enough to cause you
momentary pain Cor the sake of the great
good X hope to bring you out of this
shadowy quest. I belteve, what I said to
you on leaving, that a great Injustice was
done your father. Feeling so, shall I re
main quiescent and see youth and love
slip from you. without any effort on my
part to set this matter straight? I can
not. I have done you the wrong of si
lence when knowledge would have saved
you shock and bitter disillusion, but I will
not add to my fault the Inertia of a cow
ardly soul. Have patience with me, then;
and continue to cherish those treasures
of truth and affection which you may one
day feel free to bestow once more upon
one who has a right to each and all of
them.
This is your mother's prayer.—DE
BORAH SCOVILLE.
It was not easy for her to sign
herself thus. It was a name which
ehe had tried her best to forget for
twelve long, preoccupied years. But
her purpose had been accomplished,
or would be when once this letter
reached Reuther. With these words
In declaration against her she could
not retreat from the stand she had
therein taken.
She recommenced that rapid walk
ing to and fro which was working
such havoc in the nerves of the man
in the room below her. When she
paused it was to ransack a trunk and
bring out a flat wallet filled with news
paper clippings, many of them discol
ored by time, and all of them showing
marks of frequent handling.
The first was black with old head
lines:
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
NONSENSE TO STAY IN RUT
Ability to “Rise” in Life Is More or
Less Present in Every
Human Being.
In every business there are many
who know nothing about their possi
bilities. They live humdrum lives,
plodding along in the same old ruts
from day to day, but In a business
sense they are practically dead and
finish their business careers without
waking up—they just exist. They
see an occasional man rise up from
the mass on the wings of fortune or
fame. He Is a nine-day wonder, and
then the rest of the community set
tle down again and wait for some
thing to “turn up" for them.
The hidden forces for rising out of
the ruts are to be found in all "ordi
nary" folk. All that is needed to put
those forces to work is an awaken
ing—a realization that great effort is
behind great accomplishments. Fame
and fortune do not come unbidden.
They come only by reaching out and
grasping them as they pass b.V.
The man who is satisfied with things
as they are, will never rise above his
fellows, but the man who reaches
out and grasps every opportunity is
the man upon whom good luck wtll
smile.
The hidden power is in you. all
right, and there It will Btay until you
wake up and go out in the world and
make yourself known. Modesty may
be a virtue, but merit that vaunts it
self occasionally is the kind that brings
home the money to the wife and chil
dren.
Looking to the Future.
We are to consider that nations like
Rome, France, Austria, Russia, Oreat
Britain, have gone forward by the
millennium —the thousand years. We
have not yet grown into our name. We
are a nation in our small clothes.
America! It it already—(dating from
1898)—something bigger than the
United States. We are even more
fortunate than Rome, for if it be na
ture's Intent to widen our hive, and if
it would In any way conciliate the In
dian-Spauish and Indian-Portuguese
of the South, we could wisely and
without humiliation abandon our ship
clerk Vespuclus and aocept our cap
tain's name of Columbia for our huge
portion of the western world. Colum
bia may become the gem of the oceans
Six seas may lap her beaches —John
McGovern, In National Magazine
Famous Products of Cyprus.
Cyprus gave its name to the metal
copper. For it was from this island
that the Romans got their supplies of
the metal, which they knew as "Cy
prium aes,"'or, for short, "Cyprium,”
in late Latin "cuprum." Another fa
mous product of the island was a tree
—not the cypress, which has nothing
to do with Cyprus, but the "cyprus,”
from which a valuable oil was made.
But It is better worth remembering as
"gopher,” the Hebrew name of the
wood of which Noah’s ark was built.
In a new material
DAINTY EVENING FROCK IS A
THING OF CHARM.
Triumph of Costumer’s Art, as Much
on Account of Its Graceful
Lines as Its Fresh and
Pretty Cioth.
We are always glad when somebody
thinks of something new and places it
within our reach on the market. This
refers most particularly to dress fab
rics, for when the same old materials
are on hand, season after season, with
out variety, it is monotonous to a de
gree to see the gowns and frocks of
all occasions built of the same stereo
typed materials in each and every
case.
For this reason we welcome all such
new weaves as satin d’amour. Geor
gette crepe, libellule taffetas, peau de
chat, wool crepon, faille, and many
others. With these and many new
colors on the list one should be satis
fied.
Cream-colored Georgette crepe is
combined with chiffon taffeta in the
dainty evening frock design here
Bhown. A plain underslip of cream
chiffon taffeta, with a ten-inch plaited
foot flounce makes the dress founda
tion, over which a short-waisted cor
sage and a long, full tunic of Geor
gette crepe Is arranged.
The corsage runs to a V in front and
back, with the edges defined by orchid
colored velvet ribbon about an inch
and a half in width. A pink rose is
caught against one shoulder, the very
short kimono sleeves are held around
the arm with velvet ribbon, and the
decolletage Is filled In front and back
with a fold of the underslip material,
outlined across the top with pearl
beads.
The tunic is mounted with full, even
gathering at a decidedly high waist
line, beneath an encircling hand of the
orchid velvet ribbon, tied in a bow at
center front. Another such band holds
the tunic In against the figure a couple
of Inches above the hip line, and the
Dainty Evening Frock in White and
Orchid.
material between is allowed to pouch
a tiny bit. Three evenly spaced rib
bon velvet bandings encircle the bot
tom width of the tunic, each finishing
in front with a bow. A rose design
delicately traced in silver thread ap-
THIN WOMAN MUST RELAX
Too Much Nervous Activity le One of
the Reaeon* for Her Not Putting
on Fteeh.
The thin woman Is usually nervous
and active, and nips her bnddlng
pounds before they have time to add
the faintest suggestion of a curve to
her figure. It is as Important for her
to learn to restrain her activity, to
put, as It were, a brake on her move
ments, and to observe stated periods
of relaxation, as it is for Madame Em
bonpoint to exercise her fat away.
If only they could change prescrip
tions, what Joy there would be! For
the woman who weighs too much is
prone to welcome an easy chair and a
lounging-robe with ecstasy, while the
bony maid considers ten minutes of
open-eyed repose an ingenious form of
torture. Yet there can be no swapping
of horses in crossing this stream.
The thin little maid who really
wants to add pounds of plumpness
must register a solemn vow that she
will observe a ten-minute "period of
rest" at least twice a day Neither
Is this to be any ordinary rest, says
the Mother's Magazine. Every bind
ing article of clothing is to he re
moved and, with the body clad in
nothing more confining than a loose
lounging-robe, she Is to sink back In
a chair, and let the energy actually
ooze from every inch of her body.
This is not so simple as it sounds.
First the fingers should be made limp,
then the wrists should relax as if
they were dead weights; next the
arms, then feet, ankles, legs Next the
head should be allowed to drop heav
ily, to the side, front, other side; and
pears in the spaces between the bands
of velvet and are also seen running
through the center of either side oi
the waist.
The wrap is a new one, very youth
ful and pretty in a development ol
azure blue peau de cygne with white
fox fur. The cape portion is gathered
to an already gathered yoke, with a
serpentine double row of shirring be
tween, while the lower edge Is cut in
serpentine scallops and bound with
self-cording, which very slightly holds
in the material.
NOVELTY IN WORK-APRONS
Construction of Pocket Makes This
Little Garment of More Than
Ordinary Value.
A work-apron of a very novel nature
is illustrated by the accompanying dia
grams. On the lower portion B, a large
pocket is arranged in which the nee
dlework can be placed. The upper
portion A is also a pocket, the open
ing of which is indicated by a cross
The novel feature about this apron is
that when It is taken oft to be put
away the pocket containing the needle
work can be folded upwards into top
pocket, and in this way the lower
pocket is closed so that nothing can
possibly fall out.
This Is shown accomplished In the
lower diagram, and to make things
perfectly secure, the waistband strings
can be twisted round it and tied to
gether, and it will then take up very
little space in a drawer.
The apron is bound throughout al
the edges with braid and can either be
made with strings to tie round the
waist as shown or if preferred a band
can be arranged to fasten with hook
and eyes.
Variety in Sleeves.
Sleeves are- assuming special impor
tance —long, set well in the armhole,
and falling over the hand. Bishop
sleeves gathered into a wristband
have a great following; some are stilt
cut on the kimono plan The variety
of styles on sleeves, as well as skirts,
cannot be gainsaid. The Louis XIV
coat revived shows the sleeves of that
period. Distinct sleeves from the dress
have no following, though the plain
colored tunics are worn over checked
skirts. In everything there Is a touch
of the oriental, especially as regards
the size of the waist.
Beauty Secrets.
Golden hair requires the most care
ful brushing and cleaning. An infu
sion of camomile flowers is a very
good shampoo for light hair.
An effective dry shampoo for snch
hair Is made of alcoholic ammonia
half an ounce, the same of tincture of
qulllai, two drams of essence of wood
violet, and alcohol sufficient to make
eight ounces.
The shampoo should be applied by
rubbing it well Into the scalp a. d dry
ing the head with a rough towel. No
water Is required.
Anally the whole body should be made
as limp as the proverbial dlshrag. Hav
ing obtained this enviable condition,
close the eyes, making the lids heavy,
and rest quietly, without movement
and with as little mental activity as
possible. Ten minutes, morning and
night, of this deliberate relaxation will
lessen the body tension, and therefore
reduce the waste of energy.
Bmart Handkerchiefs.
Colored handkerchiefs are being
used. Made in line linen to match the
costume, if the color Is light; to go
with dark gowns the handkerchiefs
must be vivid, such as red, orange,
green or purple. They are made of an
exquisite quality of linen and hand
hemstitched, the hems being about a
quarter of an Inch wide. The mono
gram is embroidered in a darker shade
than the handkerchief.
New Veil.
A veil has been brought out which
Is supposed to improve the complex
ion in a pronounced degree—a chalk
white tulle veil, worked with blue
threads, the spots far apart and irreg
ular. Ivory-white tulle with spots of
black chenille is also improving to
the complexion for a young woman
and on- who has just passed her first
youth.
Attractive Egg Set*.
Among the attractive designs In
tableware are egg sets In novel de
slgna, decorated with realistic chick
ens. porcelain chickens, eggs, etc.;
salnd bowls, made in the shape of
curled-up lettuce leaves; meat plat
ters, In the shape of shells, with a
place for the gravy boat at one end