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Show I O Mhesc Three oves (J cL) !' by Louis Arthur Cunningham help, he's BoinrtTjSr88 more. He has a pace of sHe Jon told me, Simon's pP, n Beaver Hall Square He w y' ming in Rydal Water la , wiBl-day. wiBl-day. I met him then and "Well!" Anse drew th?' out to three times its lent,h ri1 do seem to know all abn ,.'?'0'1 There was a twinkle in ,t eyes. "Young, tall, aJ bllle some?" u "ana. She nodded shortly "a h. and and stern - youne Brln Anse." But nice defini'te116- "Nice as they come," sairi "I knew his father, pat k , Dse' Killed at Amiens, if you ' ,gre anything like him, m WL m(m's that calloused little heart of?'6" did a flutter." or oUrs (To Be Continued) Isn't it better to talk about it oalmly in matter-of-fact words, i a her 'than in blank verse? It s done. Anse. It's going to be." Her mouth set stubbornly. Anse looked at her sideways, slvlv "Set your jaw and charge ri-ht in. Let 'em have it. Boys of the old brigade no., darn it, girls of the new brigade!" He scowled blackly "Not enough spanking when you were small - that my fault and my deep reproach. Well, it's too late now. Tell me what else happened." "I fell off a horse. I was showing show-ing Hero for Jon and a dog ran amuck and got between his legs. It was pretty awful. I hit the around hard and I'd have been Trampled badly if if someone hadn't dashed in and picked me p" (and said, Darling! Darling Gillian! she thought, and held me close and felt pain that I should be in danger. "Plucky!" said Anse. "Well done. Chap deserves a medal. Who was he?" "He was one of the guests Simon Si-mon Killigrew. He he was a great friend of Jaffry Clay's." With an effort she kept her voice steady, casual. "He published Jaffry's book and now, with Jon's CHAITKK VI SynohlH Attractive, rtl - headed Gillian Meado lives with licr bachelor uncle, un-cle, AilwIiii, ut, Rydal House in Kjistftrn Cumin. lli-aliIn that the family fortune is almost exhausted, Gillian accepts wealthy Jon I f i II-yrr II-yrr at a 1iou.no party in his luxurious luxur-ious lioine at Lac St. Cloud. Here she meets Simon Killiurew, best friend of the alle Jaffry Clay, the younn ixiet to whom Gillian had been enaned. Killigrcw blames Gillian for Clay's untimely death and Gillian suddenly realizes that what Simon thinks matters a great I deal to her. She tries to conquer i her crowing love for Simon. Jon's trainer wanted him at the boxes. "I'll be only a few minutes, Gillian. I'll find you with our party." "Right!" She waved him away, I but when she turned from watching watch-ing his tall, spare figure disappear in the crowd, she saw the last of the house party, Sir Bates Eyston, shepherding the rest into the Chamber of Mysteries. Only Simon Killigrew was left. She forced herself her-self to look up at him calmly and smile an impersonal smile and say, "We seem to be two strays from the flock. Jon left me to go see about one of his horses that's gone lame and the rest have vanished van-ished into the Chamber of Mysteries." Myster-ies." "Would you like to go there, too?" She shook her head. "Thank you, no. I like to stand here and watch the crowd." The dark eyes were searching her face, studying her, trying, it seemed, to look into her soul. She gave him, at last, look for look, 'and for a moment, barriers down, jthey saw each other. He said then, j his voice a bit unsteady, "I can see why a man would " Her look stopped him, the kindling darkness in her eyes. "We won't quarrel again, you and I," she said. "I don't like to be hated. Not by you. I don't like to think that all I'll ever have to remember of you is that you despised me. I'm going now to find Jon." She turned from him before he could speak, and walked as quickly as she could through the crowd. She met Jon coming from the horse stalls. He said, "It's almost time for you to ride Hero, Gil. Do you feel up to it? You look a bit tired." "Oh, I'm all right. Sure I'll ride him." She would be glad to ride Hero. It would give her something to do, something to think about. shield, faded and yellow. "I "K the Spring, Gillian. Why cant it always be Spring?" "So Autumn; no Spring. Tlieie vou have it! Why, Jon, I love the Autumn. It makes me think, and I can feel things better and and maybe understand myself more than at other times." "You're happy?" "Yes." She felt a little guilty, knowing the real, deep-seated source of her happiness. "I really am happy, Jon." "I'm so glad you feel like thaf, Gil," he said, "I'll make you hap-pv, hap-pv, mv dear. I'll give you all that vou may have ever hoped for. But iet's make it soon. Let'sjnake it as soon as ever you can." "We'll make it soon. Don't be afraid, Jon, I won't melt or run away." "I love you so. And the days with you will go by so quickly." Anselm Meade was not at Rydal House when they arrived. He had gone to Bishopsgate with Deborah, Hawtry said, and would return that evening. Jon stayed only a little while. He kissed her lightly when he was leaving, but in his tone there was no lightness when he said, "Don't forget you are mine now, Gillian. Don't forget that I love you and that every hour I'll think of you. I don't like to leave you for even a little while. But it's all right, isn't it? Tell me it's all right." "Of course it's all right, Jon." For a moment she too wished wildly wild-ly that he wasn't leaving her. "I'll be thinking of you, too," she said. "Of only you." And she meant it then and perhaps believed it would be so. In the library Gillian found the big table littered with books and maps and Anse's phantom battalions bat-talions drawn up in battle array. She looked at the tall clock in the corner, went out and whistled for Rab. The bus would be coming soon. She wanted to talk to Anse, to make him understand what was in her heart. She could count on Anse always. standing by the rail, gazing up at her, thinking bitterly, no doubt, how well she looked on Jon Hill-yer's Hill-yer's fine horse, thinking that she was happy because she was getting what she wanted. Then, like a squall, a great hubbub swept up about her screams of women and shouting of men and the trampling tramp-ling of feet. Hero reared high, his neck arched, his eyes rolling wildly. wild-ly. She caught a glimpse of a great black dog, an Alsatian, with red eyes and slavering jaws. She fought wildly to quiet Hero, who began to buck. She heard the dog snapping, snarling at his heels. He lashed out and began to rear wildly. Then she was off. She hit the ground, lay face down., shielding her head with her arms, eyes closed tightly, the horror of those flailing hooves, of those foani- "Hero's a bit nervous in front of a crowd," Jon cautioned her. "Good luck, Gil." The bay was a splendid animal, big-boned, rangy, built for staying power as well as speed. Gillian sat him well. She knew that Jon meant to give her Hero for her own when they were married. She whispered, "We'll have good times together, Hero, you and I. We'll be great friends, eh?" Hero stepped proudly into the 'ring before the judges' stand. He wasn't hard to manage. He seemed seem-ed to enjoy the spotlight. - She put him through his paces. She had almost forgotten about Simon Killigrew. She saw him She watched him step stiffly from the bus, heard his ash stick strike the pavement. He looked fit, so lean, so hard-bitten, and the blue eyes brightened when he saw her waiting at the corner of the lane beneath the pointing fingers of the sign that marked the road to Rydal town. "What ho, Anse!" "What ho, Gillian!" He slipped bent his head, his eyes searching an arm about her shoulders and her face as if to read all that had happened over the week-end. Well, she would tell him most of it. He would be so eager to hear. "Was Deborah very difficult?" Anse grinned ruefully. "Her life is to be one of sadness. She will go hunted, driven, misunderstood, down dark and shadowy paths. Her lot will be the nobility of sacrifice, sacri-fice, the bitter-sweet pain of renunciation re-nunciation she has me talking the way she does!" "Well, her life won't be anything any-thing of the kind. It's it's all settled, set-tled, Anse. It's to be soon as soon as I wish to make it. And there are just about a thousand things to do. Jon wanted to see you today, to-day, but it can wait until he comes again." "Yes. So we can talk about when he will take you from me. Oh, dash it, Gillian, I don't like this! On the match and all that. But you you're something different. dif-ferent. You're not just one of these run-of-the-mine, sweet and bubbling ' young things who go from dear mamma's wing to some man's arms; to any man who has enough money to pay the score. This is your life, your happiness, you are talking about so calmly." crusted jaws, looming all about her. She felt the clasp of strong hands. She was snatched up lightly, light-ly, easily, as if she were a tot. She was held in a powerful, comforting com-forting embrace. "Gillian!" she heard. "Darling Gillian!" She did not open her eyes. She thought it would be nice to keep them closed forever, to hear forever for-ever in her heart the urgent tenderness ten-derness of that voice. Darling-She Darling-She knew he had carried her through a break in the rail. She opened her eyes slowly and looked look-ed upon into his, loving the concern con-cern in them, the fear in their clear brown depths. "Are you all right?" he asked. "You're not hurt?" She shook her head. "Not hurt, thank you. I can make out all right if you'll just set me down.' She stood, resting a hand on his shoulder. Jon came hurrying through the crowd from the judges' stand. She said, "Is Hero all right?" "Be hanged with Hero! How are you? The brute might have trampled you to death." "But -he didn't." She looked from Jon's anxious eyes to Simon Killigrew's thin brown visage, expressionless ex-pressionless now. "Splendid way you dashed up there, Kflligrew, and pulled Gillian Gil-lian out from under," said Jon. "It's a great debt I owe you. If anything had happened to her " "And I must thank you for saving sav-ing my life." Gillians eyes were mischievous. "I too am in your debt for always." He looked briefly at both of them, then looked away. "You owe me nothing," he said stiffly. "I'm glad you weren't injured, Miss Meade." "Yes yes, I know how glad you are," Gillian spoke softly. "I know how much it means to you." "What are you " he stopped, shut his lips tightly. "I think I'll start for Montreal now, Mr. Hill-yer. Hill-yer. I'll be in to see you Wednesday. Wednes-day. Good-bye, Miss Meade." "Good-bye." She gave him her hand. He held it briefly, then hurried hur-ried away. "Queer egg," Jon said. "I never saw anyone move'so fast as he did when Hero threw you under his hooves." "He'd have done the same for anyone else," said Gillian, but she thought with a wild triumph in her heart, he would never have said to anyone else what he said to me "Darling, darling Gillian!" The rest of the party had come straggling from the Chamber of Mysteries, looking rather more bored than mystified. Jon told them all about Gillian's fall. The dog had not been mad, just a little lit-tle touched with the sun. He had been captured and locked up. The sun set deep red over the black hill's, making it a magic road through the woods. Gillian sat wedged between Moira and Morton Ilsley in the rear of the station wagon. Jon sat across from her and his eyes rarely left her face. Kindly Jon. Was it treason to him to feel the way she did? Jon drove her back to Rydal House the following morning. I don't like the Autumn. Jon was bent over the wheel, eyes straining strain-ing into the grayness. Wet and sodden leaves drifted down and one stuck to u corner of the wind- |