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Show I The Married Life of Helen and Warren j By MABEL HERBERT URNER 1 J Originator of "Their Married Life." Author of "The T Journal of a Neglected Wife." "The Woman Alone," etc. An Unpleasant Incident Ends the Evening at the Quaint t Old London Tavern J (Copyright, 1315, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) "I wonder who he is?" "Huh, that was a lot of hot air he gave us. They're all blowing about the big letters of credit they couldn't use. Well, ready to go?" "It's a shame to disturb her," reluctantly re-luctantly lifting the heavy, sleepy cat from her lap. "Darned shame. Want to stay and nurse her all night?" Outside there was almost a wintry tinge in the chill, damp air. "Oh, I love that place!" Helen turned to look back at the dim light from the wrought iron lantern. "Let's not forget where it is." "Hold on there!" Warren stopped short under a street lamp and examined exam-ined his hat. "Great Scott, I've got some other fellow's lid!" They hurried back, but Warren's hat was not there. "Well, some blooming fool's worn it off that's all," irritably. "If he brings it back give him this," and scribbling their hotel address on his card, Warren left it with the barmaid. "Oh, dear, I'd carry that until we get to the hotel," when they were once more outside. "I can't bear to have you wear anyone else's hat." "I'd look like a blithering idiot without with-out a hat this weather." "But you might get some scalp disease dis-ease I They say all kinds of things can be caught that way. Besides, dear, it isn't clean!" "Well, you're not so all-fired particular particu-lar or you wouldn't have nursed that cat. Talk about germ carriers!" Helen, sensing his growing irritation, irrita-tion, made no further protest, but when they reached their room she carefully scrutinized the derby. The initials were "L. E. W." and the maker G. Watts, 65 Fleet street, London, E. C." "Dear, lift that down," pointing to their steamer roll on top of the wardrobe." ward-robe." "What for?" "Your traveling cap is in there." "Well, what of it?" "Why, you'll have to wear something some-thing in the morning until you can buy a hat. You won't wear this!" "Why won't I?" belligerently. "With that greasy leather band inside? in-side? Just look at it!" "Well, I'm npt going to blow in any twelve shillings for a new hat. Understand? Under-stand? Now let up about it. Here, sew on this button," tossing her the vest he had just taken off. While Warren undressed Helen got out her traveling workbox, in hurt, resentful silence. Surely in this she was right he ought not to wear that hat; it might be filled with germs. "See here! I'm tired of disgorging this bed every night." Warren yanked off the heavy bolster and the two extra ex-tra pillows. "Can't you make 'em take off this stuff and leave it off:"' "I did speak to the maid, but she said she didn't have any place else to put them." "Well, you tell her to find a place, or I'll fire them out in the hall." "Very well, dear, I'll speak to her again," conciliatorily, as she put away the workbox and hung his vest over a chair. A moment later there was a loud knock on the door. "Who the devil's that?" growled Warren, tying with a jerk the cords of his bath robe and shuffling over to answer it. It was a bellboy with his hat. "The gentleman's waiting downstairs, down-stairs, sir. He says he's very sorry he made the mistake and would you send his down, sir?" When the boy had gone Warren slammed the door, and flung his own hat on the table. "There, hope you're satisfied. But I can tell you one thing if that Johnnie John-nie hadn't turned up with my hat I'd have worn his the rest of the trip even if it was a size too small." "But why " began Helen. "Why?" savagely. "Because of your infernal meddling that's why! If that hat band was soiled, I could see it couldn't I? But no, you've got to go up in the air you've got to manage everything. Didn't dream of wearing that hat tomorrow till you started to row about it." Helen, who was letting down her hair, bit her lip with an air of patient endurance that irritated him all the more. "That's right," raspingly. "Now fee! hurt and pity yourself. That's always your role! But, take it from me, if you'd an ounce of bins you wouldn't be forever butting :n. A man want? to manage his own affairs once in t j while!" "Jove, that's queer," frowned Warren. War-ren. "I'd have sworn it was on this Btreet." "Could that be it down there where those lights are?" "No, it was a dingy little place. Come on, let's try the next block." They turned into another narrow dimly-lit street which ended abruptly a little further on. It was these unexpected un-expected turnings and blind passages that, for Helen, made the London streets so full of charm. Warren paused before a low doorway, door-way, over which hung a quaint wrought-iron lantern and a swinging Bign "Higglns' Wine Room, Est. 1749." 'Here we are; here's the place," as he pushed open the door. Inside the walls were lined with huge wine casks, and the air was pun-gont pun-gont with the odor of wine-soaked wood. There were a few bare tables, a sawdusted floor, a long bar and some sporting prints, yellowed with age. "How about this? Real thing, eh? Now what do you want port?" "Port's too sweet," objected Helen. "Not the kind you get here. Oporto Tort, 1873," reading the label on one of the casks. "That'll about do for UB." The barmaid drew the port, and gave them a couple of watercress sandwiches sand-wiches from under a glas dome. "How about that for color?" Warren War-ren held up his glass. "That dry enough?" sipping it. "Couldn't get that port at home at any price." Helen was taking in every detail of the bar, with its shining glasses and polished brass. It was the first time she had ever been in a barroom, although al-though in London they are frequented by women of all classes. On the end of the one of the casks was tacked a conspicuous war raster: YOUR KING AND COUNTRY NEED YOU A CALL TO ARMS. An addition of 100,000 men to his majesty's regular army is immediately immediate-ly necessary in the present grave national na-tional emergency. Lord Kitchener is confident that this appeal will be at once responded to by all those who have the safety of our empire at heart. Full information can be obtained at any post office in the kingdom. GOD SAVE THE KING. Although Helen had seen this same bulletin posted everywhere, it seemed curiously out of place in the quiet, peaceful seclusion of this quaint old tavern, with its atmosphere of Dickens' London. "Would you think she'd we"ar so many bracelets?" whispered Helen, watching the barmaid draw a mug of foaming ale. "Oh, they all wear a string of bracelets, brace-lets, and they're strong on hair puffs. But they're all right a barmaid over here is just as much respected as a stenographer or a clerk." "Yet the men all talk to her," for . two men were lounging over the bar p. in a. leisurely conversation. "Sure, she talks to the customers that's part of her job. But no Englishman ever gets fresh with a barmaid. She wouldn't stand for it." "Oh, Warren, look! What a beauty!" as a huge maltese jumped down from the bar and stalked majestically ma-jestically across the sawdusted floor. With a coaxing, "Kitty, kitty, kitty," Helen held out a bit of sandwich. sand-wich. The cat sniffed at it, then leaped suddenly into her lap. "Oh, you dear, you dear!" stroking strok-ing the sleek fur. "I've got a Pussy Purr-Mew at home but she's not so heavy as you." "Put it down! You don't want that dirty cat in your lap." "She's not dirty! Y'ou're a beautiful beauti-ful clean pussy cat, aren't you?" The cat purred loudly and dug her claws through Helen's skirt as a further expression of content. "Pardon me, sir, may I see this?" The man at the next table reached for the paper Warren had laid aside. There was an unmistakable American Ameri-can twang to his accent when a little lit-tle later he returned the paper with a sociable, "Well, you can't get much news out of these English papers. They've got the press pretty well bottled bot-tled up." "Yes, they're not giving out any more than they can help." "Been on the continent?" "No." Warren reached for a match, "just here in London." "You're fortunate. A month ago I was in Berlin took me five' days to get here. Wouldn't go through those five days again for a good deal." "Must h-tve been a pretty strmuous trip." "Strenuous! I saw three poor devils dragged out and shot. Two of them died game, but the other, a big strapping strap-ping fellow, too well, it wasn't a pretty sight." Helen listened breathlessly while he told of the harrowing experiences of that journey. He was from New York, and he taik&d importantly of his interests in-terests ther and of his large letter of credit that had been useless. When finnlly he left them, Helen Jooked after him much impressed. |