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The Batesburg advocate. [volume] (Batesburg, S.C.) 1901-1911, January 29, 1909, Image 3

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn92065508/1909-01-29/ed-1/seq-3/

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1 "LIKE
8 BEGATS
\\ L1K!
C&
V 11 is one < ?f i ln> laws of nature 111;
(?
t h i ngs prod m*e aft cr t liei r kind. It
plant interior o-arden seed you will
t* pool*vegetables, it you plant good
4* you will havbpp?<xl vegetables. Let us
v you to seleet your seed. We ha\
hand an assortmeut ot'the 1??-st vari
%w
^ of garden seed su itable for this see
Also Main-grown Seed Potatoes, <)
4| Sets and Cabbage plants.
??
?
Goods sold on their meriis <i
They guarantee themselves.
4^ j YOURS FOR BUSINESS,
? THE HARRIS-GAIN DRUG C
Tne Quality Seed antl Drutf Mot
i% i;rnsHUKo, - - 5
^ . _
\Tul no*1. r y good man what are Nursery furniture :
vno t? do with H?" asked the upholstered. as it cr
-tin : . rich man of a hector to whom dust. A rug is aim
he 1 ;1 given a two-rent |>ieee. *ary article, and an c
'"I lint'.- Just what troubles me. sir. falls. Have the corn
tf Is so hard to make a decision, and Well rounded off, pluc
I have always been unaccustomed t > |,lgh bracket and hav
*ven|th ;f yon wish yonr clil
many of the usual m
"T' epp I * one paper that will do
r,tro\ t* " '.I h of any one n comes In It is not r.? nerally
contact prevent cakes front 1
"1'b i tne. :ey good nian what Is liltle hran at the lot
i's na ue?" This will save a lot o
"Sandpaper, madam." venation.
Mar- 1
MHHNNNMNM
nee !
Sale j
I On |
---r-'Tr ^
ven't At- ^
*si
ame as 4
Fail to Jj
r. |
e Many |
?
't
'or YOU. |
"* .. . "S?. . r?X ilu- ii/ ^
E'R'S I
S. C. |
ft? ffit >%$ 1;$ l|j| fj|: ^
Watching a Hole in the Qround
*^^^"Aiming tlu- more odd of the cl
j manv odd occupations," said a t
O who finds an interest in such thii
| "is that which eutisists in watchln
| hole in the ground, the hole beln
I cellar excavation In which it is
<1 tended later t< lay the foundati
1% <.f a building. Certainly an odd oi
pation litis, an 1 a curious thing al
P" !? I it is th (i it i? f.ti owed only at ni
I?* I ''You imi ;!im ih. employw
of sr.cli a v. ituuti will prevent
.i ... ehlents. Ily .1 when ih;> diggitu
going on. tl if".- alw,t>s pe<
it ;ill Sy around, but b* night. wlnii tlto 1
is left alone, lit re nin-l be . oi.?!?
to look after ii.
IlilVl' X "The last h'.ng the diggers
. when thev quit for the ?lav is to st
seed
up along the edge of the exeav ti
help ?t the Inner < Ige of the side a all
O! scattering row c,f < :ut>t v barrels,
the tops of which they put a line
Oti?>M ' planks, and on top of these plan1Ol
perchance a load or two of mi
1foundation stone kn> already be? u
Flioil livered. they put s mie big. r >t
chunks of stone to keep the p'.ai
o I down. And it is at this stage
o proeeedit gs that the tiis'nt watci.n
Oconn on dut
t He surve\ 'i > b >le ~ileii?'* :
>n,y* O then he Ugh hi mp. a I ' < 1
tern, and If there are p-d Ig'.it o
! set out he lights t'n n and pu h
iu place, and then he is r? . 1> t > :
%y tie down for hi lib- t's nor! !
in 4* builder has r 't a shant* < u
f J,, ground he sits in ' dou . i t'
smokes: if iu> shant he ma* fin<
ISC. barrel to sit on. or lie ma* a d ;
%y watch, or he may move <1< *1 ah.
?. C. "And ther-'ll >i : 11 '. I hi; ?
?+ when, at whatev r horn of the nr.
' yon will. You may n<?: hi
%Y , first as vou draw near, but win-.<
n:e upon lrlni in i! o dark er e u
big out of ii slutd \v: or pu mi i* I
_______________ ! : \v:i 11; i ticr ? 1 l.ni I #> v. 1. > >
manner you And him. he ti"
speaks, lie I- always silent
should never b? "You may pass there night al
eates and holds night and come to kt w the w hp
nsi an unneces- when you see him, hut you never h
mil ess source of his voice. Dark and silent the .1
ers of the table excavation may lie. hut equally sll
e the lamp in a ft,,d mysterious is the watcher as
e a hinh fender , ajipears lc you in the dim light or
lldren to escape appears in the shadow; and so
irscry accidents. ' beeps vigil nlghtlv. in vhnt rej
seems to me one of the oddest of
known, hut 10 odd occupations, namely, watchini
turning, place a hole in the ground. New York S
toni of the tins.
f grumbling aud j All the news of three counties
the Advocate.
i
?
fninB. I
' By Thomas Cobb.> '
[Coiti Mil from last issue.J
estly, you don't feel a single regret?' '
Wray rose and came to her side. 1
Jj&l T don't think I Jwas ever quite so
jy pleased in my life,' he said emphat- t
ically.
y 'Stili,' she exclaimed, "I think you {
will be tempting Fate if you go to
Gloucester Place on Thursday.' 1
'No,' he answered, 'I have consid- 1
ered it, and it is better to go.'
'Will you come hero afterwards?'
S^F 'If I may.'
ufe 'I aan not asking too much?" she !
jnEi suggested. <
rfv^ "That is absolutely lmitosskble.'
'Wray, Wray, be careful,' she cried, >
looking up merrily into his face
'I llud tlial u little dltiieult,' he an2Eg?
swered.
?S3F 'I may put you to a test.'
\a, 'I sincerely wish you would,' ho
SkE sai(i
'Now, what shall I begin with?' she
answered. 'Unless?yes, you shall go
jjKj to Mrs. bishop's dance on Friday.'
jy lie laughed rather dcprec&tingly.
*1 remember the last time,' he cried.
$F '!)o you think history is likely to
1repeat itself?' '
5f I intend to take precautions,' he
retorted. (
'Anyway, you tlatter yourself that '
C|fc Pauline still ' 1
Ty 'No, no.' he said. 'You must uot
x& think thai. It is difficult to explain.
1 thought nothing of the kind, only 1
our llrst meeting can hardly fail
piE. to he a little emotional.' '
'Well, I shall tell Mrs. llishop to
1^ send you a card,' Joan answered, and 1
C8E she accompanied him through the hall
^ and forth into the garden towards the '
gate which gave upon the street.
l?5? 'What :t delightful place you have 1
here!' he said, stopping beneath a
Sshady tree.
'And it is delightful to be at home '
once more.' she rejoined. 'I feel 1
shouldn't mind if 1 never left it again, '
Ty and yet '
py "Well?" he asked, stooping by her *
m?F side, as she continued her way to- '
J/, wards the gate.
XSc- 'Oh. it's a wee bit lonely sometimes,' 1
! loan murmured.
'1 don't fancy you arc often mel- '
gfc ancholy
'How shallow you must think me
aSK* I then!" she retorted. '
jm 'Surely that doesn't follow!'
\JgJ 'Can any one who thinks at all live
in a city like thii: and not sometimes
>Tv be overcome by sheer despair and. ;
dise.ay!' she cried.
mE ' "O yet we trust that somehow
'jy good will he the final goal of 111," ' 1
Wray quoted.
Re* 'It you let me take you for a walk
o?ic day. you will find it requires a
ns? large faith.' she answered. 'But we
rRSv* vlll talk about it another time.
Good-bye,' she said, and he stepped
BBC out at the gate.
Ty CHAPTER Vin.
Wray Waterliouse si>ent that evening.
his tlr>t in London, alone, .loan's
j- effort to persuade him to avoid GlouagS*
cester Place ha<l tended to quicken
5^- the apprehensiveness which until
then he had tried not to acknowledge
to himself. But his determination
was unchanged.
In spite of the fact of Pauline's
engagement to Sir Gilbert Straelian,
Wray found It a little difficult to realize
her alienation from himself.
s He speculated concerning the nature 1
nan of the interview on Thursday, which
iiga, yet seemed eminently necessary. For
R a Pauline's sake and his own. lie deter- '
R * mined that the first encounter should
in- not occur in public.
ohs On Wednesdaj afternoon, he received
ed Mrs. Bishop's invitation, and on
tout Thursday he set forth to Gloucester
ght. Place.
lent His appearance had become more 1
;:c- conventional since Tuesday. He wore '
^ is a new frock-coat, and his trousers no
longer bagged at the knees. {
'Is Miss Cathcart at home?' he
, ,|v asked at the door (
'Will you walk this way. sir?" said '
the servant, and led him upstairs. TTe
and conscious of a slight nervousness
jo| when she opened the drawing-mom
,t door, but the next instant he was 1
v ^ calmly shaking hands with Amabel
' He glanced round the room, but f
.j Amabel was entirely alone.
'If I had known where you were
Maying.' she said, 'I should have sent
' a note. I should have spared you the 4
lk' trouble of coming." r
'Has Pauline not returned vet?' he
Inquired.
'I only heard yesterday." Amit- s
explained. 'She will not be at home
m" until Monday morning.' f
'Does she know I am in England?'
')f> he askod. (
'How could she know?' r
'Well, I thought you would tell her.' f
the said Wray. c
the *oh. it seemed a pity to disturb her
tnd mind,' answered Amabel. 'Do sit
I a down,' she added, taking a chair. *
nid 'You regard me as a disturbing in- a
it. tluenoe. then?' he suggested rather
>tne eagerly. | '
"Pauline is sure to feel sorry for
nt von." said Amabel with a demure ex- (y
on pression.
'That won't he intieh good, will it?' c
^,,,1 he exclaimed.
vor 'You know niv sister is very svmpa- '
vfM. tlietic,' answered Amabel. 1
'It would be merely sentimental. (
t be said, a little abruptly. 1
l({ir 'I don't think any one can say she f
Is sentimental.' Amabel retorted
^'ir 'That would be a libel."
'lltv that leads to nothing, tears
which make nothing grow? isn't that
sentimentality?'
^s' 'Still, you can't always help pitv ?
inc people, ami it's very often quite
impossible to assist them
'No doubt, but if you indulge in th.r
* a ort of thing often why. you are - en
un- timental!' he said.
'There's nothing 1 should hate s< '
in much.' cried Amabel 'So 1 shall 1
glory In your discomfiture. Because *
if I sympathized with you ?' *
u
'Without doing anything,' he aug- j,.
gested. /
Weil, I can t see hew anvtiody car d
ilo anything!' ^
"The mere fact of your sympathy ^
may go far,' he said, with a smile. '
'And Pauline's?"
Wri> continued in a bantering
tone- - ^
'It a man knocks me dowi) 1 can't
sincerely thank him for picking me .
ap and dusting my coat. Now. with ^
ui innocent bystander the case la dif- h
[ereut. you see.*
'He would he at least disinterested?'
said Amabel. |n
'Certainly.' a
'And you might even go as far as ai
to listen to his advice.' rj
'If he were kind enough to offer p,
it,' salu Wray.
'I advise you to be satisfied with Sl
things as they are.' she persisted.
I advise you not to come here again.' C!
'Now why?' asked Wray. w
'Are you one of thdfce tiresome per- ni
ions who always want a reason? she p(
jxclaimed.
'Is your counsel calculated for my a|
Bake or Pauline's?' lie sajd. a littip ?
more eagerly. H(
"For the sake ot the general peace.'
'1 assure you. my last wish is to tils- n
turb It.'
'Then pray don't come here again, n
Mr. Waterhouse/ c<
'But,' he urged, 'whether 1 come or
not. Pauline and I are bound to meet g
sooner or later."
You might go back to Africa.' she
suggested. r
'Well, yes, J might.' he said. 'But d
[ don't think I shall.
'How nio: to live away from the c
conventionality everybody complains a
of!' she continued. 'Now. confess
that kind of lite has it charm.' . tl
'So has almost every kind of life.' ai
'You are not a pesFiniist. then!' she
retorted. vi
"Oh, well, every kind of life has its g<
irawhacks. too, you know.'
'You are not an unmitigated optimist
either!' she exclaimed.
'To tell the truth.' he said. 'I don't w
;o in for being everything.' vi
'Ah. that's because you have done
so very much. I have read your
dooks," she added, and it did not
lessen Wray's favorable opinion of ii
tier.
'The fact is.' lie said. 'I am Impa- a
'.lent to begin to do something.' o
'What do you want to do?' she ask- r;
?d, with an expression which might
easily lead him to believe that she si
:ook the most profound interest in his a
Tuture.
'Oh. just to have a tinger in the national
pie,' he replied. 'It's a big pie. p
you know.' e:
'You want to put in a finger and o:
pull out a plum.' she suggested.
'I don't know about that.' tl
'Then why do you bother about It?"
'You see, it contains a good many
Ingredients,' he said, 'and I fancy o
I've learned how some of them ought
to be cooked. I shall come on Mon- 1;
day,' Wray added, a* he rose.
'If you won't take my advice.' she e:
answered. 'But it .ffjTulu be better if
you would.' hi
'Better for mean?' he
asked, looking intd her face.
'You know,' she said, 'Pauline is
-well, she Is reajjy devoted to Sir a:
UUbert.'
He laughed cheerfully as he held
lit his hand, and left the house in 1\
I:ir liigher spirits than he had entere! w
it He lost no time in reaching K<
'"cut's Park, where he found Joan c>:
peeling him. She looked somewhat di
rnxious as he greeted her. yet reir.lined
from reference to Pauline w
I'resently, Wray explained the nega- fa
live result of his Visit to (lloueester
IMaee. te
'Don't you think Fate is giving you
mother respite?' said Joan# "Isn't it
rather foolish to refuse to take ad is
vantage of it? Why don't you start ei
m another voyage?'
'You want to get rid of me again.' e<
he suggested.
'It is not a question of what I want."
said Joan.
'What, then?' is
'Of what is discrete. Besides, you hi
iced only stay aw ay until Pauline lias in
Secome J^ady St radian.'
He rested his arms on his knees 01
tnd leaned forward towards her.
"It's the second time 1 have re ta
reived the same advice this afternoon.'
he said cordially. In
'Whom from?' she asked.
'Pauline's sister."
'it is something fresh for Amabel to I
idvise a man to leave her neignoor- p
iood,' exclaimed Joan. 'So you have
seen her?'
"Twice, you know." fo
ller tone was a little petulant?
'How should I know anything about
v?" she demanded. 'You did not tell fine.'
n<
'It didn't occur to me,' he said. ai
'Do you admire that style of girl?" ?-i
isked Joan
'1 think she is charming!' he ex- 10
ilaimed.
'That young woman ought to be lab'lied
"dangerous"' said Joan. 'Rut I fl<
nust bring you and Bernard together." in
she added. 'You will have at least
>ne opinion in common ' m
'Is Bernard '
"Oh. Bernard is intatuated, although n,
ic has known Amabel since she was m
i child.' tb
'Isn't that rather severe?' he sug- hi
tested. a I
'N'o, no!' she cried: 'I like Amabel
'at heart immensely.'
'Of course, there are various ways a<
>f expressing affection.'
'One can't help liking her,' said cj
loan. 'It is true, she's more popilar
with men than women, but no tn
loubt that is the result of jealousy. a
n poin< of beauty, of course, she
an't hold a candle to Pauline, yet I
iclieve she wounds many more wl
icarts.' or
'And Bernard- is his wound very w
loop?' asked W'rav. t,
'Honestly. I believe II is mortal.'
he cried, with a laugh. h
'For my life.' she said. 'I can't re- p
:nrd it as tragic." c
'I suppose that he does.' e
'Oh. dear. yes. That is why I can!ot
suppose. You see. a clumsy actor a
nnv teel his part deeply as the great- ,i
st genius. But he is sure to exagrerate;
and so wo laugh at his tears,
nor Bernard!' she continued. 'He is p
i f v " I'"\i'taasaam
io victim of family tradition. Hals
Y no means a tool?except where
m&bel Is concerned. He might have
>uc well at the Bar, for instance,
id I offered him the chanoe. But
1 the Venables for generations have
ien soldiers, and he would not break
le line.'
'Then you don't wish him to marry
IIbs Amabel Catlicart'"' said Wray.
'Oh, I don't judge her very harsh'.
She will have what she would call
er fling. But by and by she will
re of that sort of thing '
'And in the meantime?'
'She is simply mischievous. Nothig
pleases her so much as to bring
new man to her feet. As for Born- y
rd, there's no question of bis marring
anybody. He has only his pay
psides any litue presents trom me."
'But still it sue cares for him, 1 (
tppose '
'How unpractical you are!' she f
ried. "Suppose she does like him.
hat would be the use? They can
ever narry; at least. nothing could ;
jssibly ne more disastrous.'
'Where there's a will there's generly
a way, you know. From the little
remember of Bernard, he's the ideal x
uft for a Colonist.'
'Can you imagine Amabel Cathcart j
juglilug it?' she demanded.
'1 liaVe seen women like her on
:iany. a ranch.' he saiu. 'But of *
uurse, if she doesn't care enough '
'They were boy and girl together,' '
he answered.
'As you and ! were.'
"The comparison hardly stands.' she
etorted. 'Bernard has always been
evot-d. he has never turned aside.'
'I suppose,' said Yvray quietly, 'you
an scarcely realize that even while
inan is tempted to stray '
'Oh, I don't think we need explore
le purlieus of a man's mind.' she
aswered hastily.
'Then only one thing would conince
you of his sincerity.' Wray sug?sted.
'What is that?'
'Patient waiting,' he said.
*1 think that Impatient waiting
otild serve equally well,' she cried
ith a laugh.
'But the waiting is indispeiisible.
'Why, naturally: but,' she said.
>rav don't tnke every word 1 utter ,
1 such solemn earnest!'
'How is one to discriminate?' he
sked. 'For instance, you insisted the
ther day that you should never mary.'
t
'Shall I make you a confidant?'
lie said. "Nobody hut Colonel Ven- .
hies ever asked me to marry him.'
'That is rather surprising.'
'Not nt all. The expenditure of a
recautionary shilling ut Her MaJsty's
Court ot I'robate saves a world
f explanation and disappointment.' f
Wray sat silent a few moments,
ion he said abruptly?
'Now. suppose that 1 '
'Oh. please don't continue in this .
xtremely personal vein. Wray!' f.
'For the sake ot argument, you
now,' he persisted. ^
How little you have changed.' she
xclaimed.
'Suppose that 1 asked a woman to
ecoine my wire '
'Pauline or another!'
'Well, it would he another,' he said.
'You wish tor mj candid opinion?'
sked Joan
'Of course.' .
Then 1 think she would he extreme'
foolish to have anything to do
1th you.'
Oil. well '
'My dear Wray! Pauline one
Hut you understand exactly how it ^
as.' he urged. 'You know all the
icts of the case."
'Yes. 1 fancy 1 understand you betr
than you understand yourself.' ,
'Very likely, but still '
'You see.' she said, anything which
very exceptional always seems in edible.'
'What is so exceptional.' lie demand'
c
'Your chivalry?shall I say?' ^
'Ti'? word is too grandiose." B
!! ii what > ou will.' she said. 'It I
almost incredible thai you should
ive come to Hugland?unless you
!td some spark ot love for Pauline.'
'You insisted that 1 had none, he .
*ied.
...... .uii in< .-.Dili.; i<? ut* artrunien*
itiw apatn. Wray* 1
'I think \??u are a link* inconsistent,'
p ?aid.
In what manner? she demanded
When i was h> way oJ protest ir
wanted a hove all things to marry
auline '
'Tl n o dtfjs apo!' sin- cried. ^
'You insisted 1 did not care a straw
r her.'
'Well!' 1
'Now that I am at liberty to speak
n.nivly, and I assure you mat I feel
> shai'ow of reRret. you laco about
,'i d elare- wall, that i a n still pur* '
tintr!'
li not why do you p. r.-ist in roIiir
i her l o eV
'I havi told you why.' ho said.
'Vo ir vplanation seems hardly sufu
at. Rut.' Phe cried, 'we are talkv
hIiout Amabel.'
'1 should like to convince you.' he
'Red |
'Von can't.' she insisted. Pray don't
isunderstand me. I I now you tell .
< precis* ly what you believe to he
io truth. But a man often mistakes
s own motives. So. she Raid, 'Amml
nl\ sed you to return to Africa?' ,
Yt ?.' ho answered.
"Rut you don't intend to follow her :
lvire or mine?'
'Not just yet. anyhow,' he said. 'I
in i ici iii wmil i may uc driven."
'Well, it was nice of you to come 1
i tell nir all about it.' she answered,
ml we shall meet attain on Friday.'
CHAPTER IX 1
In consequence oi Bernard's- over- 1
helming in pa.icnoo, loan ret forth
i Friday evening enrller t.iat she 1
rouhl have done it she had beeu ten ,
a her own devices.
Bernard had made up his mind to 1
ave a thoroughly good time, the
etter since he heard that Mrs. t'ath- '
art was not to act as Amabel's,chap- 1
ron
'Don't you think Aunt Joan looks
wfully ripping tonight?' he asaed,
urtng tlie first dance. 1
'She always does,' said Amabel.
'L'pon ruy word,' he continued, 'I
egan to feel hope ml."
nle ****9
der the sun," he Instated. Jl
'You need not expose you ll
I never encourage tMfpurm' ikt idjr m
Anyhow, 1 think I see dvWnr1 "%
now,' he said, "But I not toed ' ? I
'What did you notice/' t4
house at Southampton/ he answered. 3
' i ou see, she ran up against Water- '"i
Amabel looked up Into his face- 4s >
a* el I as her position permitted. 41 j
'But I do,/ said Bernard. I
'1 suppose you know why Mr. Wat- i
?rhouse came to England!'
'Oh, yes, I Jinow all about that,' he j
'I'll swear that Aunt Joan's Immensely
gone on the fellow/ Bernard
insisted. 'I haven't seen him yet.'
'1 have/ said Amabel significantly.
'Of course,' remarked Bernard. *1
met him two years ago.
'He was not very severely smitten
>y Mrs. Venables then/ suggested ?
tm&bel; 'or do you think he wasT' she
tsked.
'Well, you see, she hadn't lost my
mcle more than six months or so;
oesidos, she hadn't seen W&terhouse
Tor years.'
'You have not seen them together/
Baid Amabel. 'How can you possibly
form an opinionf
'1 have heard her talk about htm.'
Bernard answered. 'She nraJse* him
to the skies. She says something
about Sir Galahad?awful rot, you
know.'
'You mean well, Bernie,' said Amabel.
'but the wish Is father to the
bought.'
'Still he didn't seem very much cut
up about Pauline, did he?' asked
Bernard.
'Not very much,' she answered dryly.
'And he's rather a decent sort of
chap.' he insisted. 'My Aunt Joan
Seserves a decent sort, you know.'
'Yes, he's awfully nice,' said Amat>el.
?
'Just about the age, too!' said Bernird.
'1 like Mr. Waterhouse immensely,
:ried Amabel with a good deal of
emphasis.
Bernard was on the alert instantly.
Je ceased dancing, and looked down
it her face with a cloud on his own.
'You have hardly seen him,' he said.
'Twice.'
'That's not often.'
'But he stayed ever so long each
ime,' she retorted.
'You can't know much about him,
irged Bernard.
'Indeed 1 do. He was disposed to
?e rather confidential,' she explained.
Besides, i can judge persons very
luickly.'
'Well,' he said gloomily. 'I only hope
t will come off. Look here, Amabel,
rou might do what you can.'
What can I do?'
'Suppose he comes tonight. I heard
omethlng about It. You might talk
kbout my Aunt Joan, you know.'
'Oh, 1 will,' she said. .
A few minutes later Wray entered
he room, and Amabel drew Bernard's
Lttention to his presence.
'I think he's really the best-looking
nan here,' she said.
'Oh, I say '
'I hope he'll ask me to dance,' she
>ersisted. 'He looks as if he could
lance rather well.'
'1 think 1 shall turn it up,' Bernard
nuttered.
'Going already?' asked Amabel, 11ftng
her eyebrows.
'What's the use ot staying?'
'It's true, the room's too crowded,
he said.
I'm oil',' he answered.
'The best thing you can do. if you
an't be nice and amiable, Bernie.
)nly,' she added, 'you'll spoil my eveling
'
'Shall I though?' he whispered.
'Please take me to my seat," she
laid; 'there's one next to Mrs. Ven,bles,'
Amabel added, as Wray crossed
he room towards Joan.
'How is it you are not dancing?'
isked Wray, stopping before her.
'You see I haven't a partner,' Joan
eturned.
'I wonder whether you were gra:ious
enough to wait for me,' he said.
'You certainly say the most outageous
things,' she answered, taking
lis arm and beginning to dance, as
Imabel came up.
'We may as well begin again. Bertie,'
she cried with a smile, but he
tad not a word to say during the reat
>f the dance.
Presently Joan stopped before Ben:
ird, with a word to remind him of
kVray's existence. Bernard bowed
vith unusual stlfTness, though Watertouse
(for Joan's sake) took some
>ains to make him talk.
hater on, Wray drew near to Atna>el,
who looked as bewitching as
tnvbody in the room tonight.
'1 hardly expected to see you again
to soon when we parted yesterday,,
te said.
'I don't imagine you gave me a
hought.' she answered.
'Several.'
Really?' she cried.
'I have Just been trying to talk to
i friend of vours.' he said
'Who was that?'
'Bernard Venables.'
'Didn't you succeed?' she asked
with a laugh.
'He haun t much to say,' answered
VV'ray. 'But that is his type. The
lort of man to go where he is ordersd,
and ask no questions.'
'You have known his aunt a good
nany years.' Amabel suggested.
'linger than you have lived."
'Isn't it a little unkind to make her
ippear so old?'
'Age doesn't enter into the ques.ion.'
he said. 'One would not have
tier younger '
'Or different in uny way.'
'Or different in any way,' he agreed.
'Didn't you ew>eet to see her mar'led
again on your returnT' abe asked.
CONTINUED NEXT WEEK
] j

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