The Cody enterprise and the Park County enterprise., June 21, 1922, Page PAGE SIX, Image 6

About The Cody enterprise and the Park County enterprise. (Cody, Wyo.) 1921-1923

Image provided by: University of Wyoming Libraries

                
PAGE SIX
HARRIET PIPER
By KATHLEEN NORRIS
Copyright by Kathleen Norris
“I MEAN MARRIAGE."
Synopsis.—Harriet Field, twenty
eight years old, and beautiful, is
the social secretary of the flirta
tious Mrs. Isabel Carter. at
••Crownlands." Richard Carter's
home, and governess of seven teen
year-old Nina Carter. Ward, twen
ty-four years old and impression
able, fancies himself in love with
his mother’s attractive secretary.
Mrs. Carter’s latest ’•affair" is with
young Anthony Pope, and the
youth is taking it very seriously.
Presiding over the teacups this
summer afternoon, Harriet is pro
foundly disturbed by the arrival of
a visitor, Royal Blondin. Next
day, at a tea party in the city,
Blondin makes himself agreeable
to Nina, and leaves a deep Impres
sion on the unsophisticated girl.
Harriet’s agitation over the appear
ance of Blondin at “Crownlands"
Is explained by the fact that he
had been a disturbing element In
her life ten yea,s before and she
fears him. The man Is an avowed
adventurer, living on the gullibility
of the Idle rich. He frankly an
nounces to Harriet his intention of
marrying Nina, and urges her to
aid him. She is in a sense in his
power, and after pleading with him
to abandon his scheme agrees to
follow a policy of neutrality.
Knowing the tender feeling she has
Inspired in Ward Carter, Harriet
is tempted to marry him for the
position and wealth he can give
her, though realizing she does not
love him. Blondin has ingratiated
himself with Madame Carter, Rich
ard’s mother, and she is whole
heartedly in favor of his marriage
with Nina. Ward urges Harriet to
marry him. She procrastinates.
Mrs. Carter elopes with Pope. Blon
din threatens Harriet. She prays
to do what is right. Blondin and
Harriet agree to keep silent about
their past relations.
CHAPTER IX—Continued.
“Your devotion to my son and his
family is extremely praiseworthy,”
said Madame Carter, coldly. “But, as
Mrs. Tabor, who Is of course a woman
of the world, and comes of a very fine
family she was a Klngdon, the
Charleston family—as Mrs. Tabor was
saying, Richard is just the sort of
chivalrous, splendid man who Is per
fectly helpless In his own house 1”
Harriet smiled, with a touch of
scorn.
“When Mr. Carter is dissatisfied
with me, Madame Carter, I shall of
course consider myself dismissed.
But until that time I am very glad to
make his own house comfortable for
him.”
The hard, angry color of old age
had been rising in Madame Carter’s
face during this speech, and now she
was quite obviously enraged.
“You are hardly In a position to
dictate to me in this matter!” she said,
shaking. Harriet watched her gravely
as she rose from her chair, made a
few restless turns about the room,
opened and shut bureau drawers,
dropped and plucked up handker
chiefs and newspapers. In a dead si
lence the girl asked:
“Was that all?”
A sort of sniff was the answer. Har
riet sighed as she entered her own
suite to find Nina and Amy compla
cently dressing themselves for the
afternoon’s run.
“We’re going to Easthampton, Miss
Harriet; Granny said it* was all right,”
Nina said, in great spirits. “I know
Wi l fl
1 MH
BO
!. iiw
She Would Not Yield to Any Nursery
Control Before Amy!
■you won’t feel hurt, because the car
simply won’t accommodate more than
five, and it’s too long a run to sit on
laps—”
“But, dearie child," Harriet said, in
her friendliest manner. “I don’t be
lieve you had better do that! You're
all pretty young, in case anything oc
curred —”
A mutinous line marked Nina’s ba
byish mouth. She would not yield to
any nursery control before Amy!
“Anyway, I’m going!” she muttered,
lacing her high white buckskin shoes,
with some shortening of breath.
“Granny says a girl’s brother—”
Harriet paid no further attention to
them, and the two developed a splen
did case for themselves. But she went
down to find Ward, and took him par
tially into her confidence. Would he
please be a darling, and see that there
was no nonsense? She could not well
cross his grandmother and Nina with
out his father to back her. Would he
promise her that they would be home
by ten o’clock, at latest.
Somewhat comforted by Ward’s af
fectionate loyalty, Harriet went up to
dress for the one o’clock luncheon, and
while she was dressing a new idea
came to her. For a few minutes she
shook her head, stood thinking, with
a face of distaste.
“I could do that!” she said aloud.
And she picked up the gingham dress
that she had laid on the bed.
But there was a prettier dress in
Harriet’s wardrobe, a gift from Isa
belle, that she had never worn. It
was a flowered silk of mull, of a soft
deep blue that was exactly the color
of Harriet’s eyes, and at the throat
and wrists it had frills of transparent
lace. The soft ruffles that made the
skirt were cunningly edged with black,
and there was a great open pink rose
at the belt.
Harriet put on this enchanting gar
ment, and as she did so she felt some
half-forgotten power rise strong with
in her. There was one trump in her
hand that she had never thought to
play in a game with Nina Carter, but
she was glad to find It now.
At half-past two o’clock the car was
at the side door, and Nina and Amy
came downstairs with their wraps,
and Saunders and Ward ran about
laughing and confusing things. Blon
din watched the performance lazily
from a basket chair on the porch, but
when Nina called him a half-laughing,
half-daring, “We’re ready, Mr. Blon
din!” he sauntered down to the car
with his pleasantest expression, but
with the regretful statement that he
was not going: a vicious headache had
developed since luncheon.
Whatever the effect on Amy and the
young men, to Nina this was a stag
gering blow. She had triumphed all
through luncheon, had laughed aud
chattered, had made Ward telephone
a dinner reservation for five, and had
assumed a hundred coquettish airs.
Now all this crumpled, faded away,
and Harriet knew, as she stood be
side the car looking down at the folded
light rug on her arm, that she was
ready to cry.
“No, you’ll have a far nicer time
without me,” said Royal, throwing
away his cigarette, and resting one
arm on the car. “I wouldn’t Interfere,
because I knew you’d all give it up!
You just all have a perfectly wonder
ful time, and I’ll be down next week
end and hear about It!”
Nina stood irresolute; too choked
with sudden disappointment to risk
her voice. It was all hateful, madden
ing, horrible! Those two boys and
Amy—ah, there would be no “fun”
now I She loathed Amy, getting In so
briskly, and saying. “Come on, Nina!”
She hated Ward, she wished that they
were all dead, and herself, too.
The storm came at Good Ground,
and they all had to scramble with cur
tains, “smelly" curtains, Nina called
them. And the dinner was eaten in
warm, sticky half-darkness on a hotel
porch, with horrible music making a
horrible racket, according to the same
authority. Saunders and Amy held
hands all the way home, too, and Nina
thought it was disgusting; everyone
was too tired to talk, they bounced
along silently and crossly.
And upon getting home. Miss Har
riet came out of the shadows on the
porch, looking perfectly exquisite in
her new gown, sweetly interested and
cheerful. She said that she was so
sorry the dinner was poor, they had
had such a nice dinner at home, and
that she had had a talk with their
father, and they were to go back to
Crownlands next week. Nina did not
see Blondin; for the first time in her
life she cried herself to sleep.
Harriet had assuredly triumphed,
but it was on terms that for more
than one reason did not entirely
please her. Richard, finding the
pretty secretary prettier than ever in
her blue gown, and warmed by a re
laxed day at the club and a mood of
friendliness, had specifically instruct
ed her that she was to dine with the
family on all occasions, and to dress
Us the others did, and to regard her
self as “a member of the family." And
this, Harriet was quick to realize,
placed her in a peculiar position, made
difficult by Richard’s kindly cham
pioning no less than his mother’s hos
tility, by the adoring sympathy of the
servants, and the affectionate famil
iarities of the Carter children. Rich
ard’s friends took their cue from him,
as was natural, and In the first early
winter dinner parties at Crownlands
Harriet could not but sparkle and
lead; she had reached her own level
at last.
A sense of well-being and happiness
began to envelop Richard Carter for
the first time In many years. He was
conscious of a desire to express his
appreciation to Miss Field. It was
natural that this should take the form
of money: a little present. In the form
of a check. She had a sister who was
not rich; she would like to go home
with laden hands. But the question
was, how much?
He was musing over this very point
and other matters of deeper moment
one morning when Harriet herself
came in. She returned his smile with
her usual bright nod, but he thought
she looked pale and troubled.
“Mr. Carter,” she said, bravely going
to the point, “do you think Nina is
able, with your mother’s help, to man
age your house?”
Richard looked at her silently for
perhaps two minutes. Then he said,
quietly:
“Mr. Blondin, eh?”
The girl looked bewildered.
“My mother has given me a hint, in
deed I’ve seen, that he would want to
take you away from us!” Richard said.
Harriet, without any show of emo
tion, looked down, and was silent in
Ife JI
El
“So You've Refused Ward, Have You?”
her turn. But it was not, he saw with
sui prise, the silence of confusion. On
the contrary, she seemed simply a
little thoughtful and puzzled.
“Mr. Carter,” she said presently, “I
have reason to believe that Mr. Blon
din would be a very bad husband for
Nina. I had no scruple in—in divert
ing his thoughts. But if he was the
only man in the world” —and to his
surprise, she slowly got to her feet,
and spoke as if to herself, her eyes
fixed far away—“l would sooner kill
him than marry him!” she said.
Richard sat genuinely dumfounded.
Her beauty, her assurance, and the
cleverness with which she had man
aged that Blondin’s allegiance should
be temporarily shifted from his own
daughter, held him mute. It was with
the charm of watching perfect acting
that he followed this extremely amus
ing and unexpected woman.
“I confess that I am glad to hear
it!” he said, dryly.
“Nina Is very angry at me,” Harriet
said. "Well, I have to stand that 1”
And she gave,Nina’s father a whim
sical and friendly look.
“But what then?” Richard asked.
Harriet immediately became serious
again. q
“But this,” she said, “you know your
mother is right. You’re all too kind
to me; I am really a member of the
family. I love it. I love to dress for
dinner, and order the car, and charge
things to your accounts! But —it’s
not possible. You see that?”
Richard was quietly looking down.
Now he made several parallel lines
with a pencil before he looked up.
“No. I don’t see that!”
“Mary—Mrs. Putnam, for instance,
who is very fond of me, and Mrs. Jay.
They want to ask me to dinner—to
Christmas parties—and they’re not
quite comfortable about it. I am not
a member of your family even though
you are kind enough to treat me as
one. I am a paid’ employee, and Mad
ame Carter naturally resents their
treating me as anything else. But
most of all,” said Harriet, seeing that
she was not making headway, “it’s my
self. Nina, and your mother, and Mrs.
Tabor—it’s Just a hint here and there—
nothing at all! But It undermines my
position. I dress, I entertain your
friends, I Join you In town; it makes
talk. And I can’t —I can’t—”
She stood up and turned her back
on him proudly, and he knew that she
was crying.
“Just h minute,” Richard said, find
ing himself more shaken than he
would have believed. “It Is —you’re
sure it Isn’t Blondin?”
“Royal Blondin 1 No, It’s more seri
ous," Harriet said. "It means constant
Irritation for your mother. It means
that she is always in a state of exas
peration. I think —I don’t know, but I
have reason to think—that she made
It a choice, for Mary Putnam, between
us!’’
“She has no right t| do that,” said
Richard, soberly.
‘Tm not —you know that!—-criticis
ing,” Harriet said. The man sighed,
and tossed a few papers on his desk.
“Sometimes 1 have hoped," he be
gan, on a fresh track, “that you and
the boy might fancy each other. I’m
not satisfied with Ward. He needs an
anchor. That would be a solution for
us all!" It was a random shot, but
to his surprise she flushed brightly.
“Ward knows that there is no
chance of that," she said, quickly,
“dearly as I love him !"
Richard’s eyes widened with whim
sical amusement again.
“So you’ve refused Ward, have
you?”
“Long ago," she answ’ered simply.
The man laughed; but a moment later
his face grew dark and troubled again
as he said:
“I hardly know what to do! The
girl is the first consideration, of
course, and she needs you. I feel that
she Is not only safe, but happy, when
you are here. I’ve unfortunately
reached a place where I’ve got to feel
free. You’ve heard us all talk of this
new asbestos merger—my dear girl,
that will keep me going like a slave
for months, perhaps years! I won’t
know when I am to be home, or what
I shall have to cancel. I suppose I
can’t convince you how badly we need
you. My mother—well, she has always
taken life that way; she can’t change
now. I shall have Ida Tabor as a fix
ture here, I suppose, Nina running
wild. Ward never home! You —you
give me exactly what I want here!
Good dinners, fires, hospitaJlty, a good
report from Nina and Ward; I can
bring men home, I can— ’’ He mused,
with a smile touching his fine, tired
face. “In short, I wish there was some
fortunate young man somewhere to
make you Mrs. Smith or Jones, Miss
Field, and let you come back to the
Carters immediately again!”
Harriet laughed, sighed sharply Im
mediately upon the laugh.
“Unfortunately, there Isn’t such a
man," she said. And she added, “Even
a widow, sometimes, is vulnerably.”
Richard smiled, but some sudden
thought made the smile but an absent
one, and he sat quite obviously plunged
In meditation for a long minute.
“Here’s another suggestion. Miss
Field," he said suddenly, looking up.
“I don’t know how this will strike
you; it has occurred to me before.
Gardiner hinted it—or I thought he
did, and the more I think of it the
more possible it seems. You are a
business woman and I am a business
man. You know exactly what I am,
exactly what occurred In my married
life, after twenty-two years. That—
that sort of thing Is oyer, of course.
But there is that way of settling It, if
you care to consider it —’’
He paused, with a questioning look
of encouragement, embarrassment and
affectionate Interest. Harriet had
grown pale and had fixed her eyes
upon his as if under a spell.
“You mean—” Her voice failed
her.
“I mean marriage. I mean that you
and I shall quietly get married In a
few weeks, when I am free," he an
swered. “I have just indicated to you
what it would mean to me. I hope,”
he added, watching her closely, as she
sat stunned and silent, “I hope that it
would also have its advantages to you.
Your position then would be unques
tionable, my mother—Nina—the world,
would have nothing to say. Your in
fluence on Ward is the one thing that
may save the boy. Os Nina we’ve
already spoken. My mother —I know
her! —would Immediately become the
champion of her son’s wife. There
would be n three days’ buzzing—that
would end it!”
The swift uprushlng of joy in Har
riet’s heart was accompanied with the
first agonies of renunciation, was per
haps all the more poignantly sweet
because of them. She had not come
to this hour without knowing what he
meant to her, this quiet man with the
splendid mouth and the keen gray
eyes, and she trembled now with an
exquisite emotion that seemed to
drown out all the past and ail the.fu
ture—everything except that she loved
him and he needed her! But when she
spoke it was as coolly as he:
“Mr. Carter —what of your wife?”
His eyes met hers wearily.
“Divorce proceedings were insti
tuted immediately It was definitely es
tablished she had gone with young
Pope. The decree will be absolute."
“But that will not—cannot alter the
situation —" Harriet faltered.
“You mean—” the man hesitated,
“you mean you—that you regard me
as married still?"
Harriet, mute with emotions abso
lutely overpowering, nodded without
speaking.
“Will you—will you let me think
about it?” she faltered. A sudden
brightness came into his face. “You
know how I was brought up to think
of divorce,” she went on pleadingly.
“I’ve made plenty of mistakes In my
life, but I’ve never deliberately done
what 1 felt was wrong."
“And this would be?" Richard asked
slowly.
“Well—l haven't thought about it I”
sire answered slowly. “My people
my sister and her husband— would
say so! I—l would have said so of
some other woman!"
“This would not be an ordinary
marriage: you wbuld be entirely your
own mistress," Richard said, with
quiet significance. “It would be a
marriage only in the eyes of the
world.”
“I see," she said. “I—l must have
time to think about it!”
“As long as you like!" She had
risen, and now he rose, too, and went
with her to the library door and
opened It for her. “When you decide
come and tell me," he said, bowing.
She turned to give him a parting
smile, with a desperate wish to tell
him half the honor and joy she would
feel in taking his name, in sharing his
responsibilities, but the pleasantly im
personal nod he gave her chilled the
words unspoken. Harriet fled to her
room.
“My chance," she whispered, press
ing her cold finger tips to her hot
cheeks, “my chance at last—and I
can’t take it! No, I can’t take it—l
don’t care what his world does or
thinks—my world doesn’t permit It!
No—l can’t. Not a divorced man, not
a man with u living wife! I’ve been
a fool—l’ve been wrong, plenty of
times, but I’ve never committed my
self to folly and wrong!"
She stared blindly ahead of her.
After a while she spoke again, half
aloud:
“Oh, but why does It have to be
this way! If I could go to him, tell
him what he means to me, if we were
poor—ls we could take a little place
next to Linda—never to see Nina or
his mother or Ward or Roy again—
Oh, what heaven! How I should love
it, planning for things together, as
Linda and Fred did, having him come
home to me every night!
“But it isn’t that way,” Harriet sud
denly recalled herself sensibly, “and
it is folly even to think about It! He
is a rich man, and a married man,
and that ends It. That ends it.”
A great desolation swept her spirit.
She fell from bitter musing to weaken
ing. The law permitted It, after all.
Plenty of good women had shown her
the way. The family needed her; she
might do good here. And above all,
she loved him.
She heard a stirring in the bed
room.
“What time is it, Rosa?" she called,
suddenly aware of weakness and
fatigue.
“My goodness, how you frightened
ma, Miss Field! It’s just noon."
“Do you happen to know if Mr. Car
ter is still downstairs?”
“Yes’m, he Is; he’s expecting Mr.
Fox to come.”
Harriet smoothed her tumbled hair
and went slowly downstairs.
“But I love him!” she said, sud
denly standing still on the landing,
"(kSv
illff ill ’
f! I b 1
*y ijw v ii
“I Love Him With All My Soul!"
to look out at the softly falling snow
with brimming eyes, “i love him with
all my soul!’’
A moment later she knocked nt the
library door, opened it In answer to
his call and went In, closing it be
hind her.
“My wife lsabelle died
yesterday on an operating table
in Paris."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Who’s Who?
The child, the pride of the neighbor
hood because of his keen Intelligence,
was left to play nt the home of a neigh
bor. There was something different
about this home that seemed to attract
the child more than any other. Here
he was amused by an elderly man,
who r?nd, played the piano, slept and
did nothing to mark him as the head
of a household. His wife on the other
hand carried on a successful depart
ment store where she spent twelve of
the twenty-four hours.
This condition seemed quite con
trary to the child’s conception of
domestic life. To him the duty of the
head of the house was to leave after
breakfast for business and return at
night to dinner, while the wife was to
stop at home and attend to the house
hold duties. The child’s mother re
turned and noticed that the child
looked puzzled, but could not put his
query Into words. Finally he asked:
“Mother, is she a he?"—New York
Sun.
Watch Your Weight
Medical men all agree that in a
great number of cases It would be of
valuable assistance to them if pa
tients could produce a weight record
when going for advice. Often it Is
Impossible for a diagnosis to be giver
until a patient lias tested his or h«-
weight for a certain length nt* time
WEDNESDAY, JUNE
/Che.
American
f ?L T , hta p«P<rtm«nt Supplied by
th« American Legion New Service j V
REGARD FOR HEROES’ WISHES
Judge Neterer of Seattle Hold, R,
queet of Soldier Killed In War
Demand, Flrrt Consideration.
I, the last wish of a soldier dying
on the field of battle more to be re
spected than legal forms decked out
with sealing wax? The American
Legion thinks It Is. Recent cases be
fore the courts have brought the quo
tlon to the front. According to Federal
Judge Neterer of Seattle, the wish of
» soldier killed In battle Is higher law
than any departmental regulation. Ac
cording to this decision Agnes Classy
Blxteen-year old niece of Clarence
Swank, Is awarded the residue of
Swank's estate, amounting to $9,000
Swank was killed In France. Depart
mental red tape cluttered up the rase
on account of the death of Swank s
mother, the original beneficiary. In
handing down his decision Judge
Neterer cited precedents extending
back to the days of Caesar and the
legionnaires of ancient Rome.
The latest case Is that of Miss
Elenore It. Knapp of New York, whose
claim to the estate of Ernest Churl
ton Mason of the One Hundred and
Sixth United States Infantry has been
contested by Mason's uncle. In a
muddy dugout before a general ad
vance against the Germans. Mason
told his buddle. Oscar Westgate, the
story of his engagement, and added
that he now felt that In this advance
he was slated to “go West.” “If 1
don’t come through this,” he said, as
they started over the top, “I want El
enore to have all my estate."
Mason, among others, was cut oft
and captured by the Germans. They
were taken to the same prison camp.
For ten days, a bunkle testified. Mason
lay 111 on the ground with Influenza
Then he was taken away In an ambu
lance and his death reported. Event
ually a death certificate was Issued
by the United States government. But
the attorneys for Mason's uncle con
tested the case to the extent of argu
Ing that the “proof of death" was un
satisfactory.
The justice of the soldier's latest
will has been upheld In startling sash
lon by the highest courts of England
recently. An English major of In
fantry died alone In his lodgings In
London directly after the armistice
He left no legal will. Across the front
of a photograph of his fiance he
had hastily scrawled: “All to her'
The case was brought before the high
eat tribunal of England and the “will
stood.
TABLET GRACES LEGION SHIP
Bronze Piece In Main Dining Saloon
Engraved With Dedication by
National Commander.
The steamship “American Legion”
the Munson lines, sailing between
New York and Buenos Aires with an
American Legion crew, now bears In
Its main dining saloon a bronze tablet
- ■
IP
warms m a«h mtiku utvt
tiitus* akwcac
WCI Ute IIILIL ilcc
'Sit huh NN' 4u<k 6M.ifw.tti it tut
.'HNWI lull M--tttiKlite.
'LIUS* tkt rttfi fteHli sis till
\ iiuMiiti, it u turn tiatctiuo
' 7.ILU (lil't’l. ISIMIiU CjL\ IttH IMIU
; wu/.tC' ,•
1 .»<•«« (•'. JUUI-J.Y
HAViOk'Al.
i ’ JiiiV ’
“American Legion" Steamship Tablet,
engraved with a dedication signed by
the national commander of the Legion.
The formal presentation of tl><*
tablet was made in the presence <>f
the New York and New Jersey officials
of the Legion and two hundred guests
Send Diseased Poultry to France
The Germans are inoculating with
cholera the fowls fhey are delivering
the French under the reparations
agreements, according to French biolo
gists. It was noticed that the poultry
sent In from Germany soon died.
Prompt inquests on the dead fowH
disclosed the cholera germ. The Pari* 4
Matin, one of the greatest Fren< *>
newspapers, calls for a government in
vestigatlon.
Pending.
“Weil, want to marry my daughter,
I suppose?" snapped the grouchy mil
ilonalre as he glowered at the tin.i*'
youth. Adjusting his glasses he added
“By the way, aren’t you one of my
daughter’s former suitors?"
“N-o-no sir," faltered the cheerless
one, “but I expect I soon will be."—
American Legton Weekly.