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Show f S1 yrf a fhriWntt . ' 7 I By MARY I t I A thrilling mystery story about a j j J ! ..aV" I who lost his courage and the j.j ROBERTS j J j V gvl who helped him to find it again j j Rifj7T ! $ Perhaps no other career tests the quality of womanhood so re- lentlessly as trained nursing. It calls for many qualities, spiritual and physical. The reward Is not large, and while many seek them, but few are able to win the big prizes the service offers. Sidney Page, age ? eighteen, is taken in at the hospital as a probation nurse through the V Influence of young Dr. Max Wilson. The Pages Sidney, her semi- t Invalid mother and her Aunt Harriet had taken in K. LeMoyne, a J strange young man, as a roomer in order to help meet expenses. He's very mysterious but charming, and Joe Drummond, Sidney's high J school sweetheart, becomes violently jealous. Immediately Sidney enters hospital service her threads of life begin to tangle. You get first sight of this in the Installment printed here. " 1 CHAPTER VI. Continued. 5 "Tired?" He adopted the gentle, almost al-most tender toue that made most women wom-en his slaves. "A little. It Is warm." "What are you going to do this eve-Ding? eve-Ding? Any lectures?" "Lectures are over for the summer. I shall go to prayers, and after thnt to tie roof for air." "Can't you take a little ride tonight and cool off? I'll have the car wherever tou say. A ride and some supper 'how does it sound? You could getaway get-away at seven" "Miss Gregg Is coming!" With an impassive face, the girl turned away. The workers of the operating op-erating room surged between them. But he was clever with the guile of the pursuing male. Eyes of all on him, ' he turned at the door of the wardrobe ; room and spoke to her over the heads of a dozen nurses. "That patient's address that I had forgotten, Miss Harrison, Is the corner cor-ner of the Park and Ellington avenue." "Thank you." She played the game well, was quite ' calm. He admired her coolness. Certainly Cer-tainly she was pretty, and certainly, too, she was interested in him. He went whistling into the wardrobe room. As he turned he caught the in- - terne's eye, and there passed between : them a glance of complete comprehension. comprehen-sion. The interne grinned. . The room was not empty. His brother broth-er was there, listening to the comments of O'Hara, his friendly rival. "Good work, boy!" said O'llara, and i clapped a hairy hand on his shoulder. , "That last case was a wonder. I'm proud of you, and your brother here is indecently exalted. It was the Ed-gardes Ed-gardes method, wasn't it? I saw it , done at his clinic in New York." : "Glad you liked it. Yes. Edwardes ,'as a pal of mine in Berlin. A great ;nr;:eon, too, poor old chap !" I ''There aren't three men in the coun-.try coun-.try with the nerve and the hand for it." : O'Hara went out, glowing with his own magnanimity. Doctor Ed stood by '& waited while his brother got into Mi clothes. He was rather silent. There were many . times when he i wished that their mother could have i'wd to see how he had carried out tis promise to "make a man of Max." Sometimes he wondered what she J would think of his own untidy methods 1 : compared with Max's extravagant or-:ier-of the bag, for instance, with The M's collar in it, and other things. On ' those occasions he always determined : to clear out the bag. V1 g?ess 111 be gettinS along," he " fail "Will you be home for dinner?" '; "I think not. Ill I'm going to run : ;Wt of town; and eat where it's cool." ; The Street Was nntnrirmelv hnt Iti summer. i "There's a roast of beef. It's a pity . ; wok a roast for one." ! Wasteful, too, this cooking of food ' f'0 tad only one to eat it. A roast ,eef meant a visit, in Doctor Ed's "West-paying clientele. He still paid ; expenses of the house on the Street, i! i J50"?, old man; I've made another "Taugement." Jpr?eyvleft the hspital together. T re the yger man received I milge of success- The elevator bowed and flung the doors open, SmUe; the Pharmacy clerk, the ti-nt vPer' even the convalescent pa- Ck?! Tas,polishlDg the great Drass .W? ,' ,ten(1ered their tribute. Doc-jf Doc-jf W looked neither to right nor left. 51 B flf' Slter her 'nvoluntary bath in MiDP .wv gone lnt0 temporary Hie 0n White sPrings hotel. In ;! k'OsZi v."16 kitcben stoVe sat her to so it 6 shoes' stuTed with pa- feck in , they mlgnt dry ln Bl)ape. "' ttetic roL aChed laundry, a syinpa- irtiite J WSS lroning various soft orked. nts' and slnging as she h?i SU ln a rocking chair in a r" fratW, m- Sne carefully " a sheet from neck to toes, t except for her arms, and she was being as philosophic ns possible. Someone tapped lightly' at the door. .Its Le Moyue. Are you all right?" "Perfectly. How stupid it must be for you !" "I'm doing very well. The maid will soon be ready. What shall I order for supper?" "Anything. I'm starving." "I think your shoes have shrunk." "Flatterer!" She laughed. "Go away and order supper. And I can see fresh lettuce. Shall we have a salad?" K. Le Moyue stood for a moment ln front of the closed door, for the mere sound of her moving, beyond it. Things had gone very far with the Pages' roomer that day In the country; not so far us they were to go, but far enough to let him see on the brink of what misery he stood. He could not go away. He had promised prom-ised her to stay: he was needed. He thought he could have endure seeing her marry Joe, had she cared for the boy. That way, at least, lay safety for her. The boy had fidelity and devotion written large over him. But this new complication her romantic interest in Wilson, the surgeon's reciprocal inter est in her, with what he knew of the man made him quail. From the top of the narrow staircase stair-case to the foot, and he had livOd a year's torment-! At the foot, however, he was startled out of his reverie. Joe Drummond stood ihere waiting for him, his blue eyes recklessly alight. "You you dog !" said Joe. There were people in the hotel parlor. par-lor. Le Moyne took the frenzied boy by the elbow and led him past the door to the empty porch. "Xow," he said, "if you will keep your voice down, I'll, listen to what you have to say." "You know what I've got to say." This failing to 'draw from K. Le Moyne anything but his steady glance, Joe jerked his arm free and clenched his fist. . "What did you bring her out here for?" "I do not know that I owe you any explanation, but I am willing to give you one. I brought her out here for a trolley ride and a picnic luncheon." He was sorry for the boy. Life not having been all beer and skittles to him, he knew that J.je was suffering, and was marvelously patient with him. "Where is she now?" "She had the misfortune to fall in the river. She is upstairs." And, seeing see-ing the light of unbelief in Joe's eyes: "If you care to make a tour of investigation, investi-gation, you will find that I am entirely entire-ly truthful. In the laundry a maid " "She is engaged to me" doggedly. "Everybody in the neighborhood knows it, and yet you bring her out here for a picnic! It's it's damned rotten treatment." treat-ment." His fist had unclenched. Before K. Le Moyne's eyes his own fell. He felt suddenly young and futile; his just rage turned to blustering in his ears. "I don't know where you came from," he said, "but around here decent de-cent men cut out when a girl's engaged." en-gaged." "I see !" "What's more, what do we know about you? You may be all right, but how do I know it? You get her into trouble and I'll kill you !" It took courage, that speech, with K. Le Moyne towering five Inches above him and growing a little white about the lips. "Are you going to say all these things to Sidney?" "I am. "And I am going to find out why you were upstairs just now." Perhaps never in his twenty-two years had young Drummond been so near a thrashing. Fury that he was ashamed of shook Le Moyne. For very fear of himself, he thrust his hands ln the pockets of his Norfolk coat. "Very well," he said. "You go to her with just one of these ugly insinuations, insinua-tions, and I'll take mighty good care that you are sorry for it. If you are going to behave like a bad child, you deserve a licking, and I'll give it to you." An overflow from the parlor poured out on the porch. Le Moyne had got himself in hand somewhat. He was still angry, but the look in Joe's eye startled him. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're wrong, old man," he said. "You're insulting the girl you care for by the things you are thinking. And, if it's any comfort to you, I have no intention of interfering in any way. You can count me out. It's between you and her." Joe picked his straw hat from a chair and stood turning it in his hands. "Even if you don't care for her, how do I know she isn't crazy about you?" "My word of honor, she isn't." "She sends you notes to McKees'." "Just to clear the air, I'll show it to you. It's no breach of confidence. It's about the hospital." Into the breast pocket of his coat he dived and brought up a wallet. The wallet had had a name on it in gilt letters let-ters that had been carefully scraped off. But Joe did not wait to see the note. "Oh, damn the hospital !" he said and went swiftly down the steps and into the gathering twilight of the June night. CHAPTER VII. Sidney nnd K. Le Moyne were dining din-ing together at the White Springs hotel. ho-tel. The novelty of the experience had made her eyes shine like stars. She saw only the magnolia tree shaped like a heart, the terrace edged with low shrubbery, and beyond the faint gleam that was the river. The unshaded glare of the lights behind her in the house was eclipsed by the crescent edge of the rising moon. Dinner was over. Sidney Sid-ney was experiencing the rare treat of after-dinner coffee. Le Moyne, grave and contained, sat across from her. To give so much pleasure, and so easily ! How young she was, nnd radiant! No wonder the boy was mad about her. She fairly held out her arms to life. Ah, that was too bad! Another table was being brought; they were not to be alone. But what roused in hira violent resentment only appealed to Sidney's curiosity. Carlotta Harrison came out alone. Although the tapping of her heels was dulled by the grass, although she hud exchanged her cap for the black hat, Sidney knew her at once. A sort of thrill ran over her. It was the pretty nurse from Doctor Wilson's office. Was it possible but of course not! The book of rules stated explicitly that such things were forbidden. "Don't turn around," she said swiftly. swift-ly. "It.is the Miss Harrison I told you about. She is looking at us." Carlotta's eyes were blinded for a moment by the glare of the house lights. Then she sat up, her eyes on Le Moyne's grave profile turned toward to-ward the valley. Lucky for her that Wilson had stopped in the bar, that Sidney's instinctive good manners forbade for-bade her staring, thnt only the edge of the summer moon shoue .through the trees. She went white and clutched the edge of the table, with her eyes closed. That gave her quick brain a chance. It was madness, June madness. mad-ness. She was always seeing him, even in her dreams. This man was older, much older. She looked again. She had not been mistaken. Here, and after all these months! K. Le Moyne, quite unconscious of her presence, pres-ence, looked down Into the valley. Wilson appeared on the wooden porch above the terrace, and stood, his eyes searching the half-light for her, If he came down to her, the man at the next table might turn, would see her She rose and went swiftly back toward to-ward the hotel. All the gayety was gone out of the evening for her, but she forced a lightness she did not feel : "It is so dark and depressing out there it makes me sad." "Surely you do not want to dine in the house?" "Do you mind?" "Your wish is my law tonight," he said softly. After, all, the evening was a disappointment disap-pointment to him. The spontaneity hnd gone out of it, for some reason. The girl who had thrilled to his glance those two mornings ln his office, whose somber eyes had met his, fire for Are, across the operating room, was not playing up.' She sat back in her chair, eating little, starting at every step. Her eyes, which by every rule of the game should have been gazing Into his, were 'U fixed on the oilcloth-covered passage outside the door. "I think, after all, you are frightened fright-ened I" "Terribly." "A little danger ndds to the zest of things. Y'ou know what Nietzsche says about that." "I am not fond of Nietzsche." Then, with nu effort: "What does he say?" " 'Two things are wanted by the true man danger aud play. Therefore he seeketh woman as. the most dangerous dan-gerous of toys.' " . "Women are dangerous only when you think of them as toys. When a man finds that a woman can reason do anything but feel he regards her as a menace. But the reasoning woman wom-an is really less dangerous than the other sort." This wns more like the real thing. To talk careful abstractions like this, with beneath each abstraction its concealed con-cealed personal application, to talk of woman and look in her eyes, to discuss new philosophies with their freedoms, to discard old creeds aud old moralities morali-ties that was his game. Wilson became be-came content, Interested again. The girl wns nimble-minded. She challenged his philosophy and gave him a chance to defend it. With the conviction, as their meal went on, that Le Moyne and his companion must surely have gone, she gained ease. It was only by wild driving that she got back to the hospital by ten o'clock. Wilson left her at the corner, well content with himself. As he drove up the Street he glanced across at the Page house. Sidney was there on the doorstep, talking to a tall man who stood below and looked up at her. Wilson settled his tie, in the darkness. Sidney was a mighty pretty girl. The June night was ln his blood. Ho was sorry he had not kissed Carlotta good night. He rather thought, now he looked back, she had expected it. As he got out of his car at the curb, a young man who had been standing in the shadow of the treebox moved quickly away. Wilson smiled after him in the darkness. dark-ness. "That you, Joe?" he called. But the boy went on. . Sidney entered the hospital as a probationer pro-bationer early in August. Christine was to be married in September to Palmer Howe, and, with Harriet and K. in the house, she felt that she could safely leave her mother. The balcony outside the parlor was already under way. On the night before be-fore she went away Sidney took chairs out there and sat with her mother until un-til the dew drove Anna to the lamp in the sewing room and her "Daily Thoughts" reading. Sidney sat alone and . viewed her world from this new and pleasant angle. She could see the garden and the whitewashed fence with its morning morn-ing glories, and at the same time, by turning her head, view the Wilson house across the Street. She looked mostly at the Wilson house. K. Le Moyne was upstairs in his room. She could hear him tramping up nnd down, and catch, occasionally, the bitter-sweet odor of his old brier pipt. . . . . . . What sort of disgrace Is K. LeMoyne trying to live down? 4 A theft? Wife desertion? A i. betrayal? Or would you say he has been disappointed in love? t (TO BE CONTINUED.) |
