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Show THE TIMES-NEW- NEPHI, UTAH S, ed to comfort you, to put my hanas on you In comfort, like a mother, I And you went out like you were angry hit brandim; ..." hi Katharine Ncwlin BI KATHABINE NKWLI.N Ul'BT. act as giving her back to his hands.' Continued. And I was half-ma- d myself, I'd been I stood so you Prosper Rmoked and stood there alone so long looking, now at her, now at the fire. couldn't see him, Joan, and I threw e over him and led you out" At last, with difficulty he smiled. an "I followed you ; I didn't look at "You are not going to make It easy for me, are you, Joan?" Pierre; I left him lying there," gasped For her part she was not looking at Joan. him. She kept her eyes on the fire and Prosper went on monotonously. "When I came back a week later, I this averted look distressed and his nerves. thought he would be dead. It was "I am not trying to make It hard," dusk, the wind was blowing, the snow she said ; "I want you to say what was driving In a scud. I came down to the cabin and dropped below the you came to say and go." drift by that northern window, and, "Did you ever love me, Joan?" He had suld It to force a look from the second I looked In, I dropped out her, hut It had the effect only of mak- of sight. There was a light and a fire. Your husband was lying before the fire ing her more still, If possible. There was another man "I don't know," she said slowly, an- on a cot. swering with her old directness. "I there, your Mr. Holllwell ; they were thought you needed hie. I was alone. tulklng, Holllwell was dressing Pierre's I was seared of the emptiness when I wound. I went away like a ghost, and went out and looked down the valley. while I was going back, I thought it I thought Pierre had gone out of the all out ; and I decided to keep you world and there was no living thing for myself. I suppose," said Prosper that wanted me. I came back and you dully, "that that was a horrible sin. met me and you put your arms round I didn't see It that way then. Tm me and you said" she closed her not sure I see It that way now. eyes and repeated his speech as Pierre had tied you tip and pressed a Iron Into your bare shoulder. though she had just heard It " 'Don't white-ho- t If you went back to him, If he took leave me, Joan.' " Her voice was more than ever be- you back, how was I to know that fore moving and expressive. Prosper he might not repeat his drunken devilfelt that half forgotten thrill. The try, or do worse. If anything could muscles of his throat contracted. be worse I It was the act of a fiend. "Joan, I did want you. I spoke the It put him out of court with me. Whatever I gave you, education and beautruth," he pleaded. She went on with no Impatience but ty, and ease, must be better and hapvery coldly. "You came to tell me pier for you than life with such a your side. Will you tell me, please?" brute as Pierre " For the first time she looked Into "Stop!" said Joan between her his eyes and he drew In his breath teeth ; "you know nothing of Pierre and me; you only know that one at the misery of hers. "I built that cabin, Joan," he said, dreadful night. You don't know the rest." "for another woman." "I don't want to know the rest," "Your wife?" asked Joan. "No." he said sharply; "that Is enough to "For the one I said must have been justify my action. I thought so then like a tnl! child? She wasn't your and I think so now. You won't be wife? She was dead?" able to make me change that opinion." prosper shook his head. "No. Did "I shall not try," said Joan. He accepred this and went on,' ynji think that? She was a woman I Vhen I fouirtl jou In your bed wait lotea at tnat time very aenriy ana s wis already married to another ma fYou built that house for her? don't understand." "She had promised to leave her husband and to come away with me. I had everything ready, those rooms, those clothes, those materials, and when I went out to get her, I had a message saying that her courage had failed her, that she wouldn't come." "She wns a better woman than me," aid Joan bitterly. Prosper laughed. "By O d, she was not I She sent me down to h 1. I couldn't go bark to the East again. I had laid very careful and elnborate plans. I was trapped out there In that horrible winter country . . "It was not horrible," said Joan violently; "It was the most wonderful, beautiful 'country In all the world." And tears ran suddenly down ber face. But she would not let him come near to comfort her. "Go on," she aid presently. "Before you came, Joan," Prosper "it was horrible. It was like frit on, being starved. Everything In the house reminded me of her, I had planned It all very carefully and we were to You can fancy bavs been hnppy. what It was to be there alone." Joan nodded. She was Just and she was honestly trying to put herself In Ms place. "Yen." she said ; "If I had gone back and Pierre had been dead, "You Ara Not Going to Make It Easy his homes'fml would hare been like for Me, Ara You, Joan?" that to me." "It was because I was so miserable Ing for news of Pierre, I thought you that I went out to hunt. Td scout the most beautiful, pitiful thing I had the country all day and half the night ever seen, I loved you then, Joan, to tire myself out, that I conTd get then. Tell me, did I ever tn those some sleep. I was pretty far from days hurt you or give you a moment's home that moonlight night when I anxiety or fear?" . . scream for help heard you "No," Joan admitted, "you did not. Josn's fafe grew whiter. "Don't tell In those days you were wonderful, about that,' she pleaded. kind and patient with me. I thought He pnuivj, choosing another open-- , you were more like God than a hulug. "After t Ini bandaged you and man, then." told yon that Pierre was dead and Prosper laughed with bitterness. t honestly thought he was I didn't "You thought very wrong, but accordTon know what to do with you. to my own lights, I was very careing couldn't t !ft. snd there was no ful of you. I meant to give you all I neighbor npsiri-- than my own house; could .nd I meant to win you with s beside. I had lmt a man. and, I had repatience and forbearance. I d'n't know, maybe I was Infor and for you your spect grief and fluenced by your beauty, by my own for the horrible thing you had sufcrey Innliiie. . . . Yon were fered. Joan, by now you know better eery benilfil snd very desolate. I the world Is. Can you reproach was In a fury over the brute's treat- what me so very bitterly for our happiment of you , . ." ness, even If It was short?' J to are not "Hush!" said Joan "yon "You lied to me," said Joan. "It (lk about Pierre" wasn't Just. We didn't start even. !iruirjd. "I derided to And Prosper and you knew what you wanted take you home with fm. I wanted yon me. I never guessed." of I to take believe, Jut. desperately, "You didn't? You never guessed?" Pare of. Just to he kind totruly, Joan, "No. Sometimes, toward the last, I T wns lonely to the point of madness. was afraid. I felt that I ought to go Home one to cure for, some one to talk to, absolutely necessary to away. That day I ran off you reave my reason. So when 1 was lead- member I was afraid of you. I felt ing you out I I saw Pierre's hand you were had arid that I was bnd, too. Then it seemed to me that I'd been move - " and unkind. Jonn stood tip. After a moment ahe dreadfully ungrateful controlled herself with an effrt and That was what began to make me give ant down sei'n. "() on. I can stand way to my feelings. I was sorrowful because I had hurt yog and you ao It," ahe said. "And I thought to myself, The devil kind I The day I cam In with that la alive and ha deserves to L dead ault and spoke of her aa a 'tall child' live with Mm and you cried, why, I felt so sorrow11 woman can agaia. God wouldn't sanction such ta ful that I'd made you suffer. I want COPYKIUIIT CHAPTER VI 18 ... elk-hid- irrl-tute- d m r per-nap- irer and stayed away all night as though you couldn't bear, to be seeing me again In your house that you had built So I wrote yon my letter for her and went away. And then It was all so awful cold and empty. I didn't know Pierre was out there. I came back . They were both silent for a long time and In the silence the Idyll was relived. Spring came again with Its crest of green along tha canyon and the lake lay like a turquoise drawing the glittering peak down into Its heart "My book Its success," Prosper began at last, "made me restless. You'll understand that now that you are an artist yourself. And one day there came a letter from that woman I had loved." "It was a little square gray envelope," said Joan breathlessly. "I can see It now. You never rightly looked at me again." "Ah 1" said Prosper. He turned and hid his face. "Tell me the rest," said Joan. He went on without turning back to her, Sis head bent "The woman wrote that her husband was dying, that I must come back to her at once." The snow tapped and the fire crackled. "And when you went back?" "Her husband did not die," said Prosper blankly; "he Is still alive." "And you still love her very much?" "That's the worst of It, Joan," groaned Prosper. His groan changed into a desperate laugh. "I love you. Now truly I do love you. If I could marry you if I could have you for He waited, breathing my wife " fast, then came and stood close before her. "I have never wanted a woman to be my wife till now. I want you. I want you to be the mother of my children." Then Joan did look at him with all her eyes. "I ara Pierre's wife," she said. The liquid beauty had left her voice. It was hoarse and dry. "I am Pierre's wife and I have already been the mother of your child." There was a long, rigid silence. "Joan when? where?" Prosper's throat clicked. "I knew It before you left. I couldn't tell you because you were so changed. I worked all winter. It it was born on an awful cold March night. I think the woman let It made It die. She wanted me to work for her during the summer and she thought I would bo glad If the child didn't live. She used to say I was 'In trouble' and she'd be glad If she could 'help me out . . . It was what I was planning to live for . . . that child." During the heavy stillness, following Joan's dreadful, brief account of birth and death, Prosper went through a strange experience. It seemed to him that. In hia soul something was born and died. Always afterward there was a ghost In him the father that might have been. "I can't talk any more," said JoRn faintly. "Won't you please go?" " CHAPTER VII Against the Bars. Jasper Morena had stood for an hour In a drafty passage of that dirty labyrinth known vaguely to the public as "behind the scenes," listening to the wearisome complaints of a young actor. It was the sixth of such conversations that he had held that day; to begin with, there had long-nose- d been a difficulty between a director and the leading man. Morena'a tact was still complete; he was very gentle to the youth ; but the latter, had he been capable of seeing anything but himself, must have noticed that his listener's face was pale and faintly lined. "Yes, my boy, of course, that's reasonable enough. I'll do what I can." "I don't make extravagant demands, you see," the young man spread down and out his hands, quivering with exaggerated feeling; "I ask only for decent treatment, what my own demands." Morena put a band on his shoulder and walked beside him. "Did you ever etop to think," he said with his charming smile, "that the other fellow Is thinking and saying Just the same thing? Now, this chap that has, as you put It, got your goat, why, he came to me himself this morn-Ing- , and. word for word, he said of you Just precisely what you have just said of him to.me. Odd, Isn't HT' Again the young actor stopped for one of his gestures, hands up this time. "But, my O d, sir! Is there such a thing as honesty? He con Id n't accuse me of " 'Well, he thought he could. However, I do get your point of view and I think we can fix It np for you so that youll get off with your I'll talk to entirely Intact. Oeorge tomorrow. You're worth the bother. Oood Rfternoon." The young man bowed, his air of tragic Injury softened to one of tragic self appreciation. Worth the bother, Indeed ! Morena left him st trie top of the dlnscy stairs down which the manager fled to an alley at one side of tha tbenler, where his car was waiting for him. He stood for a while with hi foot on the step and his hand on the door, looking rather blankly at the gray, cold wall and the scurrying whirlwinds of dust and paper. "Drop yourself at the garage. Ned," he said, "and I II take the car." long-nose- d self-respe- self-respe- (TO BE CONTINUED.) Dartmouth college has determined nrt te accept more than 2.0H0 stu A limit of 500 Is set for th dent freastmao class. Thia Portrait of George Washington Which Hangs in the Congressional Library on Stone by Rembrandt Peale, who Made Portraits of Numerous Other Prominent If Washington's public life had ffaftiPQ xvt t: of S t. S nation has some great figEVERY ure Its own by which It fixes the standard of greatness In man, but to America was given a figure whose greatness is more than national. The greatness of George Washington, observes" a writer in the Kansas City Star, Is universal, like that of Shakespeare ; his name and fame abide In all lands. The explanation Is not difficult to find. Washington's greatness was. In the man, and was not made by events. As a soldier he met defeat more often than victory, yet as a soldier he takes rank with the greatest in all lands and all ages. Washington lost many battles, but he never lost an army, and In that he outranks Napoleon. He had both the courage to fight and the courage to decline fighting, for his Judgment always held complete sway over the man. He could afford not to win ; he could not afford to lose. "The old fox," the British generals called him, and called him well.' He had the supreme faculty, without which there can be no great generalship, of making himself Invisible, of turning up at unexpected places, of striking and disappearing. Napoleon's soldiers In the first Italian campaign boasted that they won their general's victories with their legs. It was Washington's ability to move his army that saved the Revolution. The greatest military victory of the war was won at Saratoga by a third-ratgeneral. The greatest military achievement of the war was Washington's retreat across the Jerseys, after having been beaten twice. We do not need Von Moltke's word for this, though he was a good Judge, nor Cornwallis", though he was present. We have the pointing finger of history to read by. On that rttreat the American Fablus and the term was then one of reproach to Washington snatched two victories that remain classics In war. With a beaten army In full retreat, in the dead of winter, he surprised and defeated two British armies In quick succession and got away before either could know where he came from or where he went. Trenton and Princeton stand high above Saratoga In military annals. In daring and in swiftness these movements are unsurpassed. The risks were great, yet were taken by a general whose cautiousness Is a maxim of military science. Nothing approached these movements until a generation later when Napoleon, feinting at England, threw his army from the channel to e at Washington, Wat Drawn Men and Women. end- - ed with the end of the Revolution and his fame rested on his military achievement alone, we should still have to place him among the foremost of mankind. WASHINGTON Liberty unsheated his sword, necessity stained, victory rerm turned it. If he had paused history might have douot-e- d ta herewhat station to assign him ta whether at the head of her ta citizens or her soldiers, her ta heroes or her patriots. But ta the last glorious act crowns career, and banishes all ta his ta hesitation. Who, like Washington, after having emancipated a hemisphere, resigned Its crown, and ' preferred the retirement of domestic life to the adoration of a land he might almost be said to have created? ta But Washington's constructive genius was not misled by the results of the war. The military victory of the ta colonies ushered In their real test ; ta it was then to be determined whether could a create nation statesmanship to seal the victory In the field ; whether the Idea of nationality could supplant in provincial minds the raw conception of the sovereignty of detached and jealous colonies. Washta ington the soldier retires from hista' tory, and Washington the statesman emerges. As the voice of Massachusetts called him to the command of armies, the voice of all now called How shall wa rank thee upon the same great leader to guide the Glory's page deliberations of that body that made Thou more than soldier and the Constitution under which we live just less than sage? All thou hast been reflects today. Here again the American less fame on thee. Fablus displayed the daring of TrenFar lets than all thou has ton. The colonies were not ready for forborne to be. ta Charles Phillips. nationality, but the cautious but sure Judgment of Washington risked giving IJT 1!? 1$ it. The Virginia plan drawn by Madison had his approval. It must be nationality or anarchy. Washington took a school boy In an oration, that Washthe risk, knowing It to be a risk, de- ington was not a genius, but a perclaring that what the convention did son of excellent common sense, of admight be rejected by the people, but mirable judgment, of rare virtues. He approving and guiding the deed. Let It belonged to that rare class of men who are broad enough to include all be conceded that the mentality of Madthe facts of people's practical life, and ison and Hamilton made the Constitution the weight of the character of deep enough to discern the spiritual Washington ballasted it. His name laws which animate and govern those carried It. His statesmanship exe- facts.. Caesar was merciful, Sclpio was a cuted It In the first feeble years of the master of self, Hannibal was patient ; young republic. but It was reserved for Washington Broad In His Views. We have been told many times, says to blend them all In one, nnd, like the lovely masterpiece of the artist, to exhibit, In one glow of associated beauty, the pride of every model, and THE WASHINGTON the perfection of every master. A conMONUMENT queror, he was untainted with crime of blood; a revolutionist he was free I ll elm mi. i iiiimiiii i.m w .. from any stain of treason, for aggresV sion commenced the contest and his a country called him to the command. If he had panned there history might have doubted what station to assign hire; whether at the head of her citizens or her soldiers, her heroes or her patriots. But the last glorious act crowns his career and banishes all hesitation. Who, like Washington, after having emancipated a hemt- - 0y 0 ii V w otp o 0 'hi? ' v - ' - ."v 1 rim. U4 Did Not Love War. iV Washington was a great soldier who did not love war. As a youth he felt, 1 1 a he confessed, a "bent for arms," and Horace Wolpole records that the young Virginia militia officer wrote In a dispatch from his first field something about the "charming sound" of the bullets. The dispatch Is not authentic. In the fullness of his fame Washington was asked If lie wrote It "If I did," he replied gravely, "It was when I was very young." With-ou- r loving war for glory or waging It for famrt, Washington rose to the After tha great Washington menu-nafront rank In an art pursued for a In th his for cause city f Washington wa alone, pay refusing great services snd laying down command In i SO feet in th air th entire foundatn hour of victory, and while the tion of atone wa takn out and a raw world rang with bis renown, to re- foundation of concrete wa ar to to lli of s Virginia fanner. - tt L '':w. nt f erred the retirement of domestic Ufa to adoration of a land he night be almost said to have created. Just honor to Waahlngton ran only be rendered by observing his precepts and lroltatlag bis example. II has built his own monument. We and those who come after us In successive renernflcns sre its appointed. Its privileged guardlsns, the widespread republic Is the future monument to Washington. Maintain Its Independence, defend Its liberty. Let It stand before the world In all Its original strength snd beauty, securing peace, order, equality and freedom to all within Its boundaries and shedding light snd hope snd joy upon the pathway of human liberty throughout th world and Washington neede no other monument. Other structure may fully testify our veneration for him; this, this nlonn can adequately Illustrate his services to mankind. Washington Sat th Sty!. Washington created a hit of astonishment among Ids friends st one tiro when he sppenred wesring s cost with pink conch shell buttons sparkling oa Its dark velvet surface. But follow Ing the lead of tb president, eon buttons bees nas a fad. ch-an- |