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Show "eg Wl CP Other Things - By HARMONY WELLER (Copyright, igi2, by Associated Literary Press.) A gloomy silence had fallen between be-tween them. The girl's head, tilted at an angle of defiance, added fuel to the name. He dashed the head from a tiny violet that had peeped over the threshold of the summer house. "There is no reason why you should destroy my violet bed," said the girl, "simply because I have chosen to take a course in dramatic art in New York." She made a movement as if to rise and leave him to his stony silence, but he jerked her back. "Iris," he pleaded Impetuously, "give up this crazy notion." "It is not a crazy notion! If 1 am to marry and live in a half-asleep village vil-lage all my life, I certainly want something some-thing to break the monotony!" "Oh it Is monotony to think of marrying me, is It?" It was the man's head which now tilted angrily. "It certainly would be to both or us," Iris continued, defiantly. "! merely mere-ly want to take a course In dramatic art, so that 1 will be more capable of entertaining our friends with recitations recita-tions and give amateur theatricals. It Isn't for professional " . "It all leads to the same thing!" put in Blair; "you will probably come back from New York and parade the streets with powder on your nose an Inch thick and look for all the world like a blooming actress." Blair was not looking at the rising anger In the girl's face, and continued, unconscious of the storm: "My mother never had to sing, or play or recite to keep her household going. We seemed to get along all right without any crazy self-Improvement self-Improvement notions!" "My dear Mr. Blair," Iris put In sweetly. "If your mother found her happiness, her contentment and the great big things in life among pots and pans, brooms and dust pans and the tending of a stray vegetable or two she is to be commended. If that were to be my life I could probably r l- He Stared for a Long Moment at the Ring. stand It until you sent me to what we call in slang a 'dippy house.' I notice," no-tice," she continued, and with rising anger, "that you are always delighted to go over with me to the Lanes and listen to their records of voices and operas. It Is true It is only a suggestion sugges-tion of the things that are going on In the world, but you apparently are not loath to enjoy them." "That is entirely different to having your own wife making a spectacle of herself and drawing the entire village vil-lage after her In trailing admiration!" "That's the whole thing In a nutshell," nut-shell," cried Iris, with two red spots In her cheeks; "you are jealous! You want me all to yourself. You want me to stay in a house nnd keep It clean and comfortable and pleasant for your own special enjoyment. 1 had In mind only your own happiness and a desire to make things more entertaining en-tertaining tor you and your friends when I thought of studying, but now you can look for some one else to make you happy!" iris pulled off her half hoop of diamonds with trembling lingers. "Give this to some girl who loves to wash dishes and oil up the hardwood floors!" She went swiftly out of the summer house and Blair was alone. He stared for a long moment at the ring that had rolled into a crack in the rustic table, then his head went forward onto his arms. "Infernal Jealous idiot that 1 am," he frankly informed himself. Ills face was white and set when he again raised It. After all, there were other things In life save the keeping in order of a house, even if that houBe were already built and rambled among a grove of fir trees. Blair arose. Ills shoulders were 'Jrooping, and he made his way from the summer house and over towari the house among the trees. Once within the old gardens his anger an-ger against Iris returned. Why should any girl want more than this beautiful home that he had bought lor her'! They had gone over every stick and stone of it in fond anticipation of It. A sense of outraged love kept him from doing the thing he knew to be right, and Iris departed for New York. In an attempt to forget his shattered shat-tered romance Blair went about with all of the girls In the village. And most of all he found his way into the cozy home of the Lanes, where he and Iris had spent many happy evenings. eve-nings. , "I'm sorry, old man," Lane had said to him when he learned of the broken engagement. "Iris is a mighty fine little girl," and Blair turned away unaccountably un-accountably Irritated. "You should have humored her," Mrs. Lane put In. "Iris, being above the average type, needs delicate handling. han-dling. I hope . she will not marry some New Yorker and leave us," she had added by way of helping the cause of Iris. The little matron knew that Iris would never marry any one save Evan Blair, but that he should be taught to appreciate the girl was al30 a part of Mrs. Lane's scheme. So it was, from time to time, Blair heard of the splendid times Iris was having in the city. Knowing it. to have been the cause of the trouble, Mrs. Lane wisely refrained from speaking of the progress Iris was making in her dramatic work. After six months of study Iris had been given an afternoon at one of the larger hotels and the newspapers had given her great praise. Blair would have given much for a glimpse of those letters which his hostess read excerpts from, but he only sat back with gloomy eyes. - "1 got a peach of a record today, Bialr," Lane suggested in an effort to litt the shadows from his friend's eyes. "Let's have it," said Blair, and they repaired to the room where the talking talk-ing machine gave forth its fund of entertainment. en-tertainment. Blair sank Into the chair that had become his. Mrs Lane ensconced herself and tuintd to Blair. "You are to listen to both of these records berore you judge them. They are both by the same person and Harry and I think them splendid." The machine burst forth Into a mon ologue. The voice was the high falsetto fal-setto of a Broadway dandy whose experiences ex-periences along the great White Way were told in an Inimitable, drawling manner that brought the first hearty lauib to Blair that he had had in months. "That fellow's all right," he laughed, "lets have the other!" "Remember," reminded Mrs. Lane, "this Is the same 'fellow.' " Blair sat back and prepared himself him-self for another funny record. When Lane drew away from the machine Blair leaned forward In his chair, gripping the arms. The voice that came from the cabinet was that or Iris. "Dear," It said, "I have found that there art- other things in life besides the study of dramatic art. 1 have taken all the prizes here and have received re-ceived offers for stage work, but " there was an effective pause "you are net here and nothing else counts When I said that life with you would be monotonous I had not tried to live without you so If you still care." the voice from the cabinet trembled, "I will be in the suratrer bouse tonight, and " Blair jumped up to adjust the record, rec-ord, thinking something had happened, but that was all of It. looked about and realized that his hosx. and hostess had left bim to hear the message from Iris. He took off the precious record and went Into the hall for his hat and walking stick in a daze of happiness When he left the house, still in that semi-conscious state of mind, Mrs Lane ran to the telephone. "He has left the house, dear," she called out to the person at the other end of the line, "and 1 think perhaps you had better fly or be will be In the summer house first. Hun In to morrow- and tell me all about It, dear Good-by." Lane turned to his wife, a puzzled look on his face. "Everything worked l eautll Ully, but has Blair lost his mind? fie was talking away about some platform In a drawing room or " A merry laugh tinkled 'from Mrs Lane's lips. "It only means that h Is planning a stage In the house h has bought for Iris so that she car have all the amateur theatricals sht wants." "Happy Iris!" said Ls |