Lincoln County leader., January 13, 1911, Image 3

S THE QUICKENING 5
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FRANCIS LYNDE
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Copyrltht, 1906. by Frandi tymto fi
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CHAPTER XXII (Continued).
Later In the day, Tom crossed tho
pike to the oak-shingled office of the
Chiawassee Consolidated. His father
was deep In the new wage scale sub
mitted by the miners' union, but ho
sat up and pushed the papers" away
when his son entered.
"Have you seen this morning Trib
une?" asked Tom, taking the paper
from his pocket.
"No; I don't make out to find much
time for It before I get home o' nights."
said Caleb. "Anything doin'?"
"Yes; they are having a hot time In
Chicago and Pullman. The strike is
spreading all over the country on sym
pathy lines."
"Reckon It'll get down to us In any
way?" queried the Iron-master.
"You can't tell. I'd be a little easy
"with Ludlow and his outfit on that
wage scale. If I were you. We don't
want a row on our hands Just now.
Farley might make capital out of It."
Tom took an electric car for the foot
T.bTTr! nrl -onnAnMntr with
the Inclined railway running up the
mountain to Crestcliffe Inn. He had
not seen Ardea since the midwinter
night of soul-awakenlngs; and Alecto's
finger was still pressing on the wound
Inflicted by the closed doors of Moun
tain View avenue and his father's dls
dlrected sympathy.
He found Major Dabney on the hotel
veranda, and his welcome was not
scanted here, at least. The moment
being auspicious, Tom sounded the
master of the Deer Trace coal lands on
the reorganization scheme, and found
nothing but complaisance. Whatever
rearrangement commended Itself to
Tom and his fathers and to Colonel
Duxhury Farley, would be acceptable
to the Major.
"I reckon I can trust you, Tom, and
my ve'y good friend, youh fatheh, to
watch out for Ardea's little fo'tune,"
was the way he put It. "I had planned
to give her a little suhprlse on her
wedding-day: suppose you have tho
lawyehs make out that block of new
stock to Mistress Vincent Farley In
stead of to me?"
"Of course, Major Dabney, If you say
so. Hut wouldn't it be more prudent
to make It over In trust for her and
her children before she becomes Mrs.
Farley?"
"Tell me, Tom, have you had youh
suspicions In that qua'teh, too? I'm
speaking In confidence to a family
friend, suh."
"It Is Just as well to be on the safe
side," said Tom, evasively. There was
enough of the uplift left to make him
reluctant to strike his enemy In the
dark.
"No. suh, that Isn't what I mean.
You've had youh suspicions aroused.
Tell me, suh, what' they are."
"Suppose you tell me yours, Major,"
smiled the younger man.
Major Dabney became reflectively
reminiscent. "I don't know, Tom, and
that's the plain fact Looking back
oveh ouh acquaintance, thah's nothing
In that young man for me to put a fln
geh on; but, Tom, I tell you In confi
dence, suh, I'd give five yeahs of my
old life. If the good Lord has that many
mo' In His book for me, If the blood
of the Dabneys didn't have to be uh
mingled with that of these heah Yan
kees. I would, for a fact, suh."
"Then you'll let me place your third
of the new stock In trust for her and
her children?" he said. "That will be
best, on all accounts. By the way,
where shall I find Miss Ardea?"
"She's about the place, somewhahs,"
was the reply; and Tom passed on to
- the electric-lighted lobby to send his
card In search of her.
CbanCe saved him the trouble. Some
one was playing In the music-room and
he recognised her touch and turned
aside to stand under the looped por
tieres. She was alone, and again, us
many limes before, It came on him with
the sense of discovery that she was
radiantly beautiful that for him she
had no peer among women. There
was no greeting, no welcoming light in
the slate-blue eyes; and she did not
seem to see when he came nearer and
offered to shake hands.
"I've been talking to your grandfath
er for an hour or more," he began, "and
I was just going to send my card after
you. Haven't you a word of welcome
for me, Ardea?"
"Do you think you deserve a welcome
from any self-respecting woman?" she
asked, in low tones.
"Why shouldn't I?" he demanded
"What have I done to make every
woman I meet look at me as If I were
a leper?"
'You know very well what you have
done," she said evenly. "If you had a
spark of manhood left In you, you
would know what a dastardly thing you
are doing now in coming here to see
me."
"Well, I don't," he returned, dogged
ly. "And another thing: I'm not to be
put off with hard words. I ask you
again what has happened? Who has
been lying about me this time?"
"You were Intending to walk down to
the valley?" she asked.
He nodded.
"I will walk with you to the cliff
It was a short hundred yards, and
there were many abroad In the grav
eled walks: lovers In pairs, and groups
of young people pensive or chattering.
So It was not until they stood on the
very battlements of the western cliff
that they were measurably alone.
"Has no one told you what happen
ed last March on the day of the Ice
storm?" she asked, coldly.
"No."
"I used to think I knew you," she
said, faltering, "but I don't. Why don't,
you despise hypocrisy and double'deal
lng as you used to?"
"I do; more heartily than ever."
"Tom, It Is a terrible thing to say
and your punishment will be terrible.
But you must marry Nancy!"
He was standing on the brink of the
cliff, looking down on Paradise Valley,
spread like a silver-etched may far
below In the moonlight The flare and
sough of the furnace at the Iron-works
came and went with regular Intermlt
tency; and Just beyond the group of
Chiawassee stacks a tiny orange spot
appeared and disappeared line a wiu-
o' -the-wisp. He was staring down at
the curious spot when he said:
"If I say that I have no duty toward
Nan, you will believe It Is a He as
you did once before. Have you ever
reflected that It Is possible to trample
on love until It dies even such love as
I bear you?"
"It Is a shame for you to speak of
such things to me, Tom. Consider
what I have endured what you have
made me endure. People said I was
standing by you, condoning a sin that
no right-minded young woman should
condone. I bore It because I thought,
I believed, you were sorry. And ut
that very time you were deceiving me
deceiving every one. You have drag
ged me in the very dust of shame!"
"There is no shame save what we
make for ourselves," he retorted. "One
day, according to your creed, we shall
stand naked before your God, and be
fore each other. In that day you will
know what you have done to me to
night No, don't speak, please; let me
finish. The last time we were together
you gave me a strong word, and and
you kissed me. For the sake of that
word and that kiss I went out Into the
world a different man. For the little
fragment of your love that you gave
ine then, I have lived a different man
from that day to this. Now you shall
see what I shall be without It."
Before he had finished she had turn
ed from him gasping, choking, strang
ling In the grip of a mighty paaslon,
new-born and yet not new. With the
suddenness of a revealing flash of
lightning she understood; knew that
she loved him, that she had been lov
ing him from childhood, not because,
but In spite of everything, as he had
once defined love. It was terrible,
heartbreaking, soul-destroying. She
called on shame for help, but shame
had fled. She was cold with a horrible
fear lest he should find out and sho
should be forever lost In the bottomless
pit of humiliation.
It was the sight of the little orange
colored spot glowing and growing be
yond the Chiawassee chimneys that
saved her.
"Look!" she cried. "Isn't that a firs
down In the valley Just across the plko
fiom the furnace? It Is a lire!"
He made' a field-glass of his hands
ipo looked long and steadily.
"You are quite right," he said, cool
ly. "It's my foundry. Can you get
back to the hotel alone? If you can.
I'll take the short cut down through
tho woods. Good-night, and good
by." And before she could reply, he
had lowered himself over the cllff'a
edge and was crashing through the un
derbrush on the slopes below.
CHAPTER XXIII.
If Thomas Gordon, opening his eyes
to consciousness on the mid-week
morning, felt the surprise which might
naturally grow out of the sight of Ar
dea sitting in a low rocker at his bed
side, he did not evince It, possibly be
cause there were other and more per
plexing things for the tired brain to
grapple with first.
For the moment he did not stir or
try to speak. There was a long dream
somewhere In the past In which he had
been lost In the darkness, stumbling
and groping and calling her to
come and lead him out to life and
light. It must have been a dream, he
argued, and perhaps this was only a
continuation of It. Yes, no; she was
there In visible presence, bending over
a tiny embroidery frame; and they
were alone together.
"Ardea!" he said, tremulously.
She looked up, and her eyes were
like cooling wellsprlngs to quench the
fever fires In his.
"You are better," she said, rising.
'Til go and call your mother."
"Walt a minute," he pleaded; then
his hand found the bandage on his
forehead. "What happened to me?"
"Don't you remember? Two men
tried to rob you last Saturday evening
as you were coming home. One of
them struck you."
"Saturday? And this Is
"This Is Wednesday."
The cool preclieness of her raphes
cut him to the heart He did not need
to ask her why she had come. It was
mere nelghborllneaa, and not for him,
but for his mother. He remembered
the Saturday evening quite clearly
now: Japheth's shout, the two men
springing on him; the instant Just pre
ceding the crash of the blow when he
had recognized one of his assailants
and guessed the identity of the other.
"It was no more than right that you
should come," he said, bitterly. "It
was the least you could du, since your
She was moving toward the door, and
his ungrateful outburst had the effect
of stopping her. But she- did not go
back to him.
"I owe your mother anything she
likes to ask," she affirmed, In the same
colorless tone.
"And you owe me nothing at all, you
would say. I might controvert that.
But no matter; we have passed tho
Saturday and have come to the Wed
nesday. Where Is Norman? Hasn'
he been here?"
"Ho has been with you almost con
stantly from the first He was here
less than an hour ago."
"Where Is he now?"
She hesitated. "There Is urgency of
some kind In your business affairs.
Your father spent the night In South
Tredegar; and a little while ago he
telephoned for Mr. Norman from the
Iron-works, I think." She had moved
away again, and her hand was on the
door-knob.
"You are in a desperate hurry,
aren't you?" he gritted; though the
teeth-grlndlng was from the pain It
cost him to move. "Would you mind
handing me that desk telephone before
you go?"
"If you wish to speak to some one,
perhaps I could do It for you," she sug
gested, quite In the trained nurse tone.
"If you could streteii your goou-wiu
to to my mother that far," he sail.
"Please call my office number flve-twenty-slx-Q
and ask for Mr. Nor
man." She compiled, but with only a strange
young woman stenographer at the oth
er end of the wire, a word of explana
tion was necessary. "This is Miss
Dabney. at Woodlawn. Mr. Gordon Is
better, and he wjshes to say what did
you want to say?" she asked, turning
tc him.
"Just ask what's going on; if it's
N'orman you've got he'll know," said
Tom, sinking back on the pillows.
What the stenographer had to say
took some little time, and Ardea's col
or came and went In hot flashes and
her eyes grew large and thoughtful as
she listened. When she put the ear
piece djwn and spoke to the sick man,
her tone was kinder.
"There Is an Important business
meeting going on over at the furnace
office, and Mr. Norman Is there with
your father," she said. "The stenog
rapher wants me to ask you about
sjme papers Mr. Norman thinks you
mav have, and "
She stopped In deference to the yel
low pallor that was creeping like a cu
rious mask over the face of the man
In the bed. Through all the strain of
the last twenty hours she had held her
self well In hand, doing for him only
what she might have done for a sick
and suffering stranger. But there wero
limits beyond which love refused to be
driven.
"Tom!" she gasped, rising quickly to
go to him.
"Walt," he muttered; "let me pull
myself together. I I'm weaker than a
girl," he whispered. "Vlnce I mean
the thug, hit me a lot harder than he
needed to. What was I saying? oh,
yes; the papers. Will you will you
go over there In the corner by the door
and look behind the mopboard? You
will find a piece of It sawed so It will
come out. In the wall behind It there
ought to be a package."
She found It readily a thick packet
securely tied with heavy twine and a
little charred at the corners.
"That's It," he said, weakly. "Now
one more last favor; please send Aunt
'Phrony up as you go down. Tell her
I want my clothes."
"You are not going to get up?" she
said.
"Yes, I must; I'm due this minute at
that meeting down yonder."
"Indeed, you shall do no such insane
thing!" she cried. "What are you
thinking of!"
"Listen!" he commanded. "My fath
er has worked hard all his life, and he's
right old now, Ardea. If I should fall
him but I'm not going to. Please send
Aunt 'Phrony."
She consented finally, and as she was
leaving him, she said:
"I hope your mother Is still asleep.
She was here with you all night, and
Mr. Norman and I made her go to bed
at daybreak. If you must go, get out
of the house as quietly as you can, and
I'll have Pete and the buggy waiting
for you at the gate."
(To be continued.)
i)ES f a MOMENT
Good I illliiK.
"Strange how some fellows look at
things."
"How now?"
"Well, there's young Gately, waiting
for dead men's shoes; he nover can
fill them In the world."
"But he eipects they will be stuffed
out with gilt-edged bonds." Boston
Herald.
Unuciinl.
Bacon What In the world Is that
rooster crowing so about?
Egbert Why, lie's just discovered
an egg that's never been In cold stor
age. Yonkers Statesman.
Nuture'x Own I'roceai.
He Do you use pasteurized milk?
She I suppose so. It comes from a
pasturelzcd cow, anyway. Boston
Evening Transcript.
ARIS Some of the
latest designs ap
proved by the great
dressmakers and tail
ors of Paris reveal un
expected points.
Quite the rogo of
the hour, lor Uslting
dresses, Is the long,
straight, overdress
which is half a tunic and hull a
princess robe. These quaint garments
are molded to the figure without being
actually tight-fitting, and very fre
quently they aro hemmed with a band
of fur.
Indeed, wo find bands of fur here,
there and everywhere on the newost
and most costly models, with the
natural result that theso garments
can be suitably worn without any man
tle or wrap.
With regard to tho new straight tu
nic, which Is as long as a princess
robe. It must be Bald that when per
fectly cut and fitted It Is exceedingly
smart. The fact that It Is not actual
ly tight-fitting gives It a vaguo and
picturesque outline.
The Japanese Sleeve.
A curious fact In connection with
these close fitting tunics, and the same
holds good of the modified dlrectolre
styles, Is the Introduction of the Jap
anese sleeve. We find fiiese pretty
sleeveB, cut In one piece with tho bod
ice on all sorts and conditions of
dresses; In fact, for any but a tailored
costume It is the exception to find n
sleeve which has been stitched into the
armhole.
For example, tako nn afternoon re
ception dress by Rouff a very charm
ing model. Tho material was saxo blue
satin striped with black velvet. The
robe was short waisted and dlrectolre
In outline except the sleeves, which
wero qulto Japanese. They reached a
little below the elbows and were iln
lshed off with a narrow band of sable,
similar bunds appearing on the round
collar und also on tho deep hem of
black velvet which finished off the
round skirt. An attractive Item of this
dress was tho folded band of black
satin which formed thu waistband,
with long ends falling to the hem of
the dress In front.
Another admirnblo reception dress,
by the same artist, was composed of
blue nattier satin cloth, the skirt being
tight and round, tho simple material
being arranged In a long tabller In
front. This tabller was edged with
bands of silver fox and these bands
were passed over the shoulders at
the waist band with a broad buckle of
blue enamel. Tho waist line of this
dress was quite high and the Bleeves
were long and rather tight, with bands
of fur aranged to simulate a gauntlet
cuff.
In Khaki-Colored Velvet.
Yet another dress of the same or
der was composed of khakl-colored vel
vet, with a narrow band of black fox
at the extreme hem of tho round skirt,
and, at the knees, a wide Insertion of
khaki-colored Venetian guipure. The
bodice portion was absolutely plain,
with a band of fur at the throat, but
the Japanese sleeves had an Insertion
of guipure just above tho elbows, and,
Just below, a band of black fox.
We have been told by persons In
supposed authority that round skirts
are no longer considered correct for
afternoon wear, for visits, receptions,
etc.; but in complete opposition to this
statement comes the obvious fact thai
our best dressmakers are giving their
approval to just these very costume.
and that tiny aro making them toi
their host clients.
Of Classic Design.
Some of the newest aftefnooi.
gowns, for Indoor wear, aro almoi 1
classic In their outline, They arc
composed of exceedingly supple ma
torlal, such as liberty satin, silk crepe,
chiffon velvet, etc., and they cling In
the figure In a fascinating manner
which would have delighted the Em
press Josephine. As a rule the bodices
of these robes are held in place, at
the waist by a nnrrow sash of ribbon
or by a silken cord. The waist line Is
almost aiways very high, and the nar
row sash Is introduced high up, almost
under the arms. These dresses give
an Impression of youthful simplicity,
and they are undoubtedly effective
when worn by married women.
The Idea of allowing the satin bod
Ice to remain uncovered while the
skirt of the same material Is complete
ly veiled in gauze, is original as well
as modern.
At some of the recent race meetings
many really beautiful toilets have
been worn. For example, at Long
champs, when tho prlx du Prince d'Or
ange was run, the weather was superb,
and all the most notablo society lead
ers wene present. A notable number
of black satin tailored suldos were
worn, and one of the most effective of
these was that of Princess Duleep
Singh. The skirt was round and cling
ing, and the smart coat, of medium
length, had largo dlrectolre revers and
cuffs. A dainty cravat of old yellow
lace appeared at the throat and the
princess wore a large flat hat of cream
colored felt, trimmed with a scarf of
yellow lace and a couple of large
roses.
Black Velvet Popular.
Baroness Raoul do Prcscourt also
wore a coat and skirt of heavy black
satin with a superb stole and muff of
blnck fox and a big picture hat of
black velvet loaded with feathers.
Mack and navy blue costumes had
It all their own way that afternoon,
and black velvet gowns were very
much In evidence.
I have seen coats and skirts In
mole gray corduroy which were as sea
sonable as they were beautiful, and
Hedfern Is Just now making Ideal
tailored suits In twlne-colored velours,
with large revers of twine-colofed
suede embroidered In heavy silks.
At Longchamps one has a good op
portunity of Judging the popularity of
black and white materials and black
'ind white combinations generally. The
large black felt, or velvet hat, trim
med with handsome whlto feathers, is
rapidly becoming a sort of uniform
ind the samo may be said of turban
oques. Wherever black can be com
ined with white wo find tho two min-
ed and our ultra smart Parlslonnes
re now appearing In black velvet cos
urnes, mado In tho princess tunlo
tyle already described, In conjunction
.vlth Btoles, muffs and turbans of er
anno. And then on tho other hand
nothing is considered more correct
than the severely-tailored suit accom
panied by black fox furs and a large
Mat hat of black velvet. , Black on
whlto and whlto on black; theso aro
l ho orders of the autocrats of the Rue
do la Palx this season, and It must bo
admitted that the Paiisiennes seem
willing to obey them.
White Chamois Gloves.
I must not neglect to draw attention
to tho fnct that white chamois
gloves, especially for morning wear,
are very fashionable. They are worn
with tailored suits of all kinds, but
they aro especially effective with white
serge coats and skirts, or, In the after
noon, with ono of tho black velvet
suits mentioned above. These gloves
almost always have gauntlets, though
tot always stiff ones, nnd the smart
thing Is to have them a size too large
so that they can bo drawn on and off
with the ease of riding gloves.
An evening gown of faded rose satin
Is shown In the Illustration. The
overdress Is embroidered in milk white
garnet and steel beads. Head-dress
of old lace caught at the sides with
pearl ornaments.
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