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Show Bears Can Choose MARGARET s WEYMOUTH I JACKSON I 1 Copyright by Ilobba-Merrin Co. WNTJ Service THE STORY ftnewln a childhood attachment, attach-ment, KrnnHtlna iJrlcelund, of a wealt hy family, la at traded by Will Todd, neWHpaper artiwt. Her Inter, Lillian, urges her to break off the affair, but Ernestine re-tuHfim. re-tuHfim. A runaway man-lane follows. fol-lows. Lorlnir Hamilton wins Lillian's Lil-lian's conaant to become his wife. Will and Ernestine beln their mfirrlod life In humble surround-liiH, surround-liiH, John I'oole, Will's best friend, (fives a birthday party (or Ernestine at Ruby pasinno'a resort. re-sort. ErneHtlne and Will have their ft rut quarrel as a result. CHAPTER V Continued ' 6 "I didn't say thut. Certainly he hH8 responsibilities, lie Is to provide for her to the best ot lila ability. He la to share all Ids ournlnya and his honors with her. lie Is to shelter her nnd 8pcak kindly to her and love her and not And fault. He Is to be faithful Id word and tlioiiKht. He Is to be imlurul In his relationship with her and avoid sentimentality. But also, she Is to be a woman grown and unafraid, un-afraid, his equal, -not a child for him to protect like a child." "You are so bard," she wept, "so bard with me." He bent and kissed her and pressed tils face to hers. "It's life," he said. "We have to grow up. Life Is hard." ICruestlne wakened next morning to find that the pnln and confusion of the night before hud vanished Into a new nnd not unhappy perspective on her life. For the first time she could see what a blow It had been to mamma and papa to have her living In Erie street, with no margin, no possessions, no possibility of restraint or economy. How dllllcult Is wns perhaps for their sakes she ought to co-operate with mamma and papa to do something for them. Enough money for a decent tint a small comfortable house 'It would be so much easier for mamma. I!ut Ernestine felt again the cold wind on her cheeks, remembered vividly viv-idly how she had wept, and how she had snld, again and again, "I promise. Will I promise." He had asked her for nil such statement. She had done the bargaining. Whatever It cost to - " her family or to herself she would keep that promise to Will, and live on what he brought her until he himself told her to do otherwise. Ernestine began to wonder If she would be as good a wife and mother as Elaine Rrlcelund, when the time came thnt Will had made good. She paused to consider this thought and smiled happily, for now she saw thnt for the first time she was entirely confident of Will's success. It had been as much longing as conviction before, but now she was sure. How hard he was I His hardness brought only admiration this morning, the practical respect of a practical person. "If you want to go back, you've only to put on your lint and do It !" She wondered how many men had the courage to take a stand like that. She did not regret the quarrel at all. Her marriage had attained a new reality. She knew that she was not simply having a good time. She knew that she could not go home when the party was over. They had advanced from the honeymoon period Into permanence. per-manence. In what way, here and now, could she make this new feeling practical, make It effective? 1 How would they meet the obligation of childbirth? Would she go home to mamma or to some hospital? They would have to plan without mamma If they were to be consistent. She understood that babies were fright-, fully expensive. She had read articles in magazines about them. Yet thousands thou-sands of women with no more money than she possessed had babies. She would have to find out how they managed. man-aged. She would have to see a doctor, ask questions, answer them. She would have to find out the rates at different hospitals, under different conditions. And after she had Investigated the matter and decided on her own plan, she would have to begin to save a definite amount every week, out of Will's pay, so thnt they might meet the emergency. That would be fun to have money In her hand, when her time camel She decided to say nothing to Will about this, until she knew. Like her mother, she must exercise her virtue privately and let results speak for her. She had a few dollars with which to open a savings account. Trere was a bank nearby, a branch of a downtown hank. She would get a metal coin chest for herself and Will. Her mental activity now became physical, and she rose and dressed, kissed Will lightly on the cheek, and left a note on the dresser for him, lest he thhik she had taken his ndvtce and gone home. Downstairs she found a box full of roses for her, and a card In It with a few words written in an erect elaborate script : "To beg forgiveness for my rudeness, rude-ness, and to express the hope that we may be real friends some day. L. S. Pastano." Krnestlne gave the rosea to Airs. Bennett without comment and went out. Last April she had been a schoolgirl. school-girl. Now she was filled with the solemn sol-emn Importance of wifehood and motherhood. moth-erhood. The sweet air filled her with happiness. Her husbund'a face lied before her mind's eye, down the long curve of boulevard, an Indignant countenance, coun-tenance, fiery, strong. Her heart contracted within her at the thought of him and his love. The visit to the doctor's was prolonged, pro-longed, but she reached mamma's house In time for lunch, and found the two women so full of Lillian's plans that she kept her own secret. Determined to make the day com plete she left early and set out for the long tiresome street car ride to the Northwest side. She was ashamed to realize how few were the visits she and Will had made to the little house where his mother and father lived. She was at her mother's home two or three times a week, but they had not been to see Will's mother half a dozen times In the months of their marriage. It was not Intentional neglect, but It always seemed to work out that way, nnd Will had been as lax as she about spending his one day a week on that long Journey. CHAPTER VI Ernestine Asks a Favor When Ernestine reached her mother-in-law's house, she was astonished to find a crowd of people standing about the door, and to see a taxi Just driving away, and another car at the curb. When she came Into the group, every one fell silent, and Ernestine looked at the faces with curiosity and a sense of fear. "What's the matter?" 'she said nervously to a big housewife who opened the door for her. "Will's been trying to find you they Just brought his pa home. He's dead dropped dead at his work today, to-day, and his ma's real bad. I got Will on the telephone, nt the paper, and he came right out here, but he didn't know where you was." Ernestine stood staring at her, and her hand went up to her heart in a frightened gesture. "Where's Will?" she asked wildly. "He's In with his ma. Go still the doctor's working with her. She's been awful bad the last few days. I've been with her all the time." , "But she didn't tell us." "She thought she'd be better she's been sick so long" Will looked up as she came In and called her name softly. She went straight to him and put her arms around him. His face was wet with tears he was not the positive, fiery creature with whom she had quarreled so bitterly the night before, but a little boy, lost and confused. She kissed him quickly, several times, and he said to her : "I'm glad you got here Mrs. Bennett Ben-nett didn't know where you were. Oh, Ernestine mom's so sick the doctor doesn't know whether she'll ever be better and dad gone like that Just like a breath. I haven't seen him for three weeks." "Darling he'd want to go quickly," said Ernestine, feeling the futility of words the emptiness of comfort. It wasn't her father, her conscience told her. She and Will had been neglectful. neg-lectful. The doctor came out of the bedroom and asked Ernestine crisply to get him some hot water. Ernestine took off her fur coat and her little red hat and went Into the kitchen. There was a fire In the small range, and awkwardly she put some coal upon it and set the teakettle on to heat. The doctor asked her for towels. She waited on him as well as she could and accepted in silence his sharp reprimand when she was clumsy. The neighbors had dissolved. Mrs. Schluss, who lived next door, came in and made a little supper. She put it on the kitchen table and said to Ernestine: "See if you can get Will to eat he's In there crying." "I will," said Ernestine, and Mrs. Schluss went on : "You'll have to stay here, now, I guess. Will's ma shouldu't have been left alone, and now, his pa's dead, there's nobody to look out for her but you and Will." "Of course I'll come," said Ernestine. Ernes-tine. "I'd have come before, If I had known that I was needed. We didn't want to be a burden " She found this phrase In her mind as she coaxed Will to eat a little supper. sup-per. Had their motives been entirely unselfish, in going to Erie street? Hadn't they wanted to be alone away from his people? Should she have stayed with Will's mother, and nursed her, and done the work? There was no question but that Mrs. Schluss, and probably other neighbors as well, thought that she should. Her heart ached with remorse. Will stayed In the kitchen with her, and Ernestine washed the dishes and put them all away, going to him at times and patting or caressing him. The undertaker came, the doctor left and returned about nine o'clock. He called Will Into the other room, but after a time Will came back Into the kitchen, where Ernestine sat, not knowing what to do. "Ernestine " Will looked at her uncertainly; his eyes appeared small and red with weeping, his nose seemed unusually big In his pale face, and his mouth waa like a child's. "The doctor doc-tor thinks we ought not have the funeral here because of mother being be-ing so 111. The noise, and people coming com-ing In and out he thinks she Is III enough that It might go against her. Do you do you think your mother I don't want him burled in a chapel and he didn't belong to any church. He was an officer In an ethical society they'll have the services I don't known what to plan " The back door opened and Mrs. Schluss came In while he was talking, and with her another neighbor Ernestine Ernes-tine remembered having met him once before. His name was John Pryor, and he waa a printer. Ernestine understood un-derstood the entreaty In Will's eyes but her heart sank: Mamma did not like funerals, and least of all would . she like this one. "I'll ask," she said uncertainly, and went to the telephone which was hung on the kitchen wall. It seemed an He Patted Her Arm and Tried to Control Con-trol His Feelings. eternity before Ernestine heard her mother's voice. Falteringly, she told her what had happened wondering why she had not called her sooner. "But, darling," cried mamma, "to think of you in all that trouble I'll send the car right after you. You must come home to mamma until this Is all over you've never been to a funeral In your life, Ernestine. It will be so hard for you." "Mamma," said Ernestine with vexation, vex-ation, "you know I can't come I'm needed here. It's something else I called you for. Mamma, they can't have the funeral here at the house, because be-cause Will's mother is so ill It would be dangerous for her, and, of course, Will doesn't want his father burled from the funeral parlors, and he doesn't belong to any church we don't know Just what to do, mamma " She couldn't say it. She simply could not "It's too bad you and Will aren't keeping house," said mamma. "If yon had let papa help you you could do this for Will, now." "You don't want to, mamma? I thought perhaps your house is so big that you would do this for Will. I'm asking you to have Will's father's funeral at our at your house, mamma mam-ma " All their eyes were on her her face was scarlet, her eyes were suffused with tears of humiliation. "Why, Ernestine," said mamma, in a troubled voice, "I don't know. I'll have to talk to daddy grandmother's not well. Wait a minute hold the wire." Ernestine stood in silence, saying to Will with her lips, "She's asking papa," waiting In the endless interval, certain of refusal already hurt and resentful. "Ernestine," mamma's voice was terribly ter-ribly sympathetic, "we're all Just as sorry as we can be, but papa doesn't think Mr. Todd would want it. It doesn't seem practical, dear the funeral home right there In his own neighborhood lots of people are buried from such chapels every day. darling. Don't ask mamma to do such a hard thing " Ernestine hung up the receiver without with-out a word and turned strained great eyes upon Will. John Pryor regarded her with a sarcastic smile. He was a socialist, or an anarchist, or something, Ernestine recalled. "Will," he said with Instant kindness, kind-ness, "let me have this funeral for you? It's right here, in the neighborhood, neighbor-hood, and it won't be a bit of trouble your father and I belong to the same society It would be all right with him, I know." "All right," said Will dully, and turned to the undertaker: "Fix It that way will you tend to the no tlces?" '"Will," Ernestine Implored him. "it's not my fault they don't understand " lie patted her arm and tried to control con-trol his feelings. "That's all right, kitten. I know you can't help It it's Just their way." His face worked, and suddenly he clenched his big bund. "My father he was good enough to work for yours, for half his lifetime good enough for that but not good enough for his dead body " "Will Will don't don't, darling oh, you must not suy such a thing sweetheart." "Let him cry," said Mrs. Schluss wisely, and Will cried upon Ernestine's Ernes-tine's shoulder his tears wet her blouse, and she held him. feeling the great sobs rack him, wondering dimly If she would mourn for her father that way. This would be her home, she resolved, re-solved, kissing his tear-wet face, holding hold-ing him to her heart. She would stay with Will and bis mother. Her people had denied her husband the kindness that was due among kinsfolk. They had denied her. She felt that she didn't care whether she ever saw them again. If they had done this for Will, everything else would have followed, but now. In common loyalty to her husband, she had to recognize this hurt. She was almost fainting with weariness. weari-ness. It seemed to her the night would never end. Papa came In his big car and took Ernestine and Will and Mrs. Schluss to the burying ground. Will accepted this courtesy with dignity. He was not the person to quibble at a time like this. The services of the Ethical society were brief and dignified. It was Ernestine's Ernes-tine's first acquaintance with death, and she felt the power of human dignity, dig-nity, felt as she had never felt before the common Inheritance, the Integrity of Will's father's life. When they came back. Ernestine sat In the car and talked to her father a few minutes. She told him that she and Will were to stay at the little house, that she was going to try her hand at housework and nursing. She should have done it sooner she didn't realize, she said, that she was needed. She ought not reproach herself, her father answered she had done quite well to avoid being a responsibility to Will's father and mother. "That wasn't enough," said Ernestine. Ernes-tine. "I've a new set of values to learn." "You think the ones you learned at home Inadequate?' "I didn't mean that." "You've been very quiet with me all day. Do you resent our attitude?" Ernestine was near to teare. "It hurt Will," she said, her voice shaking. shak-ing. "It forces me to take a stand I have to be loyal to Will. Papa, I love you all so, but I love Will most. He's my husband. If he's hurt, so am I." Her father's face had grown very white. He sat studying his gloved hand upon the polished steering wheel. "That's right," he said after a little. "After all, that's part of what you learned at home I hope. I thought your mother wants me to tell you we'll establish a trust fund for you and one for Lillian when she Is married. mar-ried. I've got my money tied up in this stone merger, but I can settle some on you now, and more later, or I can give you an allowance." He stopped, controlled his emotion, and went on steadily, "I still think your marriage will prove disastrous, but you're my little girl I want you to be happy. Of course, you can always come home, but as long as you stay with Will, I'd like to do what I can for you, Ernestine." It was a long speech for him. He waa always quick, half a phrase, half a sentence, sufficed him. Ernestine's hands squeezed his arm, she pulled him down and kissed him, and he put his big arm, awkward in his overcoat, about her, and drew her close. "Before Will and I were married he he thought you might think he wanted my money wanted some advantage, ad-vantage, and I promised him I'd live his life, live on his Income. I made a bargain and I must stand by It, papa. But I'm glad you told me If I should need money, I'll let you know. Thank you." He kissed her again, and they said goodby. The conversation had washed awny a little of her resentment and made her feel better. She had a strong desire to cling to her own fam- . . -. - - - ily. opposed by the resolution she had taken to harden her heart against them all. She thought of mamma and Lillian and Loring, come In Loring's coupe, standing quiet and In a little tight knot at the funeral. She had taken her own stand by Will and Mrs. Schluss, and Mr. and Mrs. Pryor. The day after the funeral when Ernestine, with one of Mrs. Todd's aprons pinned over. an old silk dress, was experimenting Willi a broom, Mr. Pastano came, and with him a huge old lady with slow black eyes and a face so round and kind that Ernestine's Ernes-tine's heart went out to her. Mr. Pastano had brought somo potted plants, which seemed fresh and beautiful after the scent of decay that had come with the funeral sets. "These are for Willie's mamma," Madame Pastano said haltingly. "We come to make consolation call to bring you friendship. As the plants grow, so grows the new soul, in Heaven." Ernestine yielded to impulse, was enfolded on the soft .and luxurious bosom of Madame Pastano and kissed her smooth cheek. How strange that all of her haughty resentment was gone, that she actually liked Hub Pastano, with his slow thick voice and his mottled dark eyes. "When Willie's mamma is better, you will come to visit us?" the old lady asked, and Ernestine called her husband Willie for days afterward. She promised to come. Will was worried about money, and Ernestine tried to spend aa little as possible. Mr. Todd's lodge insurance had paid for hla funeral and left a small balance, which was soon eaten up by the heavy expenses of the mother's illness. Will asked for a raise and got fiye dollars. At length he was forced to borrow from Mr. Poole, although Ernestine told him sha could get money from her father. "Money ! he burst out passionately. "I don't want any Brlceland money I We wanted something real from them. Money's all they have." "You'll have to Increase your earnings, earn-ings, Will." "It takes time. And I Intend to do it on my own Job, not in your father's office. Your folks must understand that" "Lillian says beggars can't choose," she said. "This beggar chooses," he warned her. Will's mother began to mend a little, the third or fourth week, although she was desperately ill. One day she asked Ernestine how they were managing,' manag-ing,' and. Ernestine confessed that they had had to borrow. "The Troy street house is In my name," said Mrs. Todd. "Tell Will the deed and all are in his father's box tell him to have some real estate office sell It I'll sign the deed it will be more than enough for my illness." ill-ness." "But, mother, when you are better, you will need your money." "I'll not be better. And I'd like to . have the nurse all the time now." So the house was sold, and the few thousand dollars they got for it certainly cer-tainly made a remarkable difference. The doctor brought them a resident nurse. Ernestine and Will agreed that they should spend Mrs. Todd's money only for the expense of her Illness. On the day that Lillian was married Mrs. Todd was able to sit up, and Will consented to go to the wedding. The church was filled with flowers the bridesmaids made a rainbow Ernestine Ernes-tine had pleaded the excuse of mourning mourn-ing for taking no part in the ceremony. The pews were filled with old familiar fa-miliar faces the ushers were young men Ernestine and Lillian had known always. Everything was very beautiful beauti-ful and formal, and Ernestine realized that mamma would have liked such a wedding for her. She was glad afterward, that sha had gone, for the weeks and months Just passed had been so hard for her that the beauty of her own romance had become a little dimmed. But when she heard the marriage ceremony again, when she stood by Will and watched her sister marry Loring Hamilton, Ham-ilton, she remembered every word and every kiss of her own marriage day its storms and turmoil, and she looked at Will, at his clear strong face, at his lean bony body In the shabby suit, at the big square hands resting on his knees, and the richness of her love for him welled up in her like a great tide that would and must carry everything before it. (TO BE CONTINUED.) """":""";: :!:;;i |