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Show , 1 l WlcWKjht- by D.APPLE.TON AND COMPANY VI Continued. 14 Lulu had played it now as she must have played it then. Half after nine and DI had not returned. re-turned. But -nobody thought of Di. Cornish rose to go. "What's them?" Mrs. Bett demanded. de-manded. "Dwight's letters, mamma. Tou mustn't touch them !" Lulu's voice was sharp. "S.iyt" Cornish, at the door, dropped his voice. "If there was anything I could do at any time, you'd let me know, wouldn't you?" That past tense, those subjunctives, unconsciously called upon her to feel no intrusion. "Oh, thank you," she said. "You don't know how good it is to feel " "Of course it Is," said Cornish heartily. They stood for a moment on the porch. The night was one of low clamor from the grass, tiny voices, Insisting. In-sisting. "Of course," said Lulu, "of course you won't you wouldn't " "Say anything?" he divined. "Not for dollars. Not," he repeated, "for dollars." "But I knew yon wouldn't," she told kirn. He took her hand. "Good-night," he said. "I've had an awful nice time singing and listening to you talk well, of course I mean," he cried, "the supper was just fine. And so was the music." "Oh, no," she said. Mrs. Bett came into the hall. "Lulie," she said, "I guess yon didn't notice this one's from Ninlan." "Mother " "I opened it why, of course I did. It's from Ninlan." Mrs. Bett held out the opened envelope, en-velope, the unfolded letter, and a yellowed yel-lowed newspaper clipping. "See," said the old woman, "says, 'Corie Waters, music hall singer married last night to Ninlan Deacon Dea-con ' Sny, Lulie, that must be her. . . ." Lulu threw out her hands. "There I" she cried triumphantly. "He wns married to her, Just like he said I" The Plows were at breakfast next morning when Lulu came in casually at the side door. Yes, she said, she had had breakfast. She merely wanted want-ed to see them about something. Then she said nothing, but sat looking with a troubled frown at Jenny. Jenny's hair was about her neck, like the hair of a little girl, a south window poured light upon her, the fruit and honey upon the table seemed her only possible food. "You look troubled, Lulu," Mrs. Plow said. "Is it about getting work?" "No," said Lulu, "no. I've heen places. I guess the bakery Is going to let me make coke." "I knew It would come to you," Mrs. Plow said, and Lulu thought that this was a strange way to speak, when she herself had gone after the cakes. But she kept on looking about the room. It was so bright and quiet. As she came In, Mr. Plow had been reading from a book. Dwlght never read from a book at table. "I wish " said Lulu, as she looked at them. But she did not know what she wished. Certainly it was for no moral excellence, for she perceived none. "What Is it. Lulu?" Mr. Plow asked, and he was bright and quiet too, Lulu thought. "Well," said Lulu, "It's not much, but I wanted Jenny to tell me about last night." "Last night?" "Yes. Would you " Hesitation wns her only way of apology. "Where did you go?" She turned to Jenny. Jenny looked up in her clear and ardent fashion: "We went across the river and carried supper and then we came home." "What time did you get home?" "Oh. It was still light. Long before eight, It was." Lulu hesitated and flushed, asked how long DI and Bobby had stayed there at Jenny's ; whereupon she heatd that DI had to be home early on account of Mr. Cornish, so thnt she and Bobby hnd not stayed at nil. To which Lulu said an "of course," but first she stared at Jenny and so Impaired Im-paired the strength of her assent. Almost Al-most nt once she rose to go. "Nothing else?" said Mrs. now, catching thnt look of hers. Lulu wanted to say: "My husband ' was married before. Just as he suld he was." But she said nothing more, and went home. There she put It to DI and, with her terrible bluntness, reviewed re-viewed to DI tfic testimony. "You were not 'Uh Jenny after eight o'clock. Where were you?" Lulu spoke formally and her reliears-ils reliears-ils were evident. 'it said: "When mamma comes some, I'll tell her." With this Lulu hnd no Idea how to deal, and merely looked nt her helplessly. help-lessly. Mrs. Bett, who was lacing her shoes, now said casually: "No need to wait till then. Her and Bobby were out in the side ynrd sitting sit-ting In the hammock till all hours." 1)1 had no answer save her furious flush, and Mrs. Bett went on : "Didn't I tell you? I knew It before the company left, but I didn't say a word. Thinks I, 'She wiggles and ehitters.' So I "left her stay where she was." "But, mother!" Lulu cried. "You didn't even tell me after he'd gone." "I forgot It," Mrs. Bett said, "find-dng "find-dng Nlnian's letter and all " She talked of Nlnian's letter. DI wns bright and alert and firm of flesh and erect before Lulu's softness and laxness. "I don't know what your mother'll say," said Lulu, "and I don't know what people'll think." "They won't think Bobby and I are tired of each other, anyway," said DI, and left the room. Through the day Lulu tried to think what she must do. About DI she was anxious and felt without power. She thought of the Indignation of Dwlght and Ina that Di had not been more scrupulously guarded. She thought of Dl's girlish folly, her Irritating independence inde-pendence "and there," Lulu thought, "just the other day I v. as teaching her to sew." Her mind dwelt, too, on Dwight's furious anger at the opening of Nlnian's letter. But when all this had spent Itself, what was she herself to do? She must leave his house before be-fore he ordered her to do so, when she told him that she had confided in Cornish, as tell she must. But what was she to do? The bakery cake-making cake-making would not give her a roof. Stepping about the kitchen in her blue cotton gown, her hair tight and flat as seemed proper when one was "Of Course," Said Lulu, "Of Course You Won't You Wouldn't." not dressed, she thought about these things. And it was strange: Lulu bore no physical appearance of one in distress dis-tress or any anxiety. Her head wns erect, her movements were strong and swift, her eyes were interested. She was no drooping Lulu with dragging step. She wns more intent, she was somehow more operative than she hud ever been. Mrs. Bett was working contentedly beside her, and now and then humming hum-ming an air of that music of the night before. The sun surged through the kitchen door and east window, a returned re-turned oriole swung and fluted on the elm above the gable. -Wagons clattered clat-tered by over the rattling wooden block pavement. "Ain't it nice with nobody home?" Mrs. Bett remarked nt Intervnls, like the burden of a comic song. "Hush, mother," Lulu suld, troubled, her ethical refinements conflicting with her honesty. "Speak the truth and shame the devil," Mrs. Bett contended. When dinner was ready at noon, DI did not nppear. A little earlier Lulu had heard her moving about her room, and she served her in expectation thut she would join them. "DI must be having the 'tnntrlm' this time," she thought, and for a time said nothing. But at length sue did say: "Why doesn't DI come? I'd better bet-ter put her plate in the oven." Blslng to do so. she was arrested by her mother. Mrs. Bett was eating a baked potato, holding her i"ork close to the tines, and presenting a profile of passionate absorption. "Why. Di went off," she ssld- "Went off1" "Down th walk. Down the sidewalk." side-walk." "She must have gone to Jenny's," said Lulu. "I wish she wouldn't do that without tolling me." Mnnonn laughed out and shook her straight huir. "She'll catch It!" the cried In sisterly enjoyment. It was when Lulu had come back from the kitchen and wus seated at the table that Mrs. Bett observed: "I didn't think Inle'd want her to take her nice new satchel." "Her satchel?" "Yes. Inie wouldn't tnke It north herself, but DI had it." "Mother," said Lulu, "when DI went away Just now, was she carrying a satchel?" "Didn't I Just tell your' Mrs. Bett demnnded, nggrieved. "I said I didn't think Inlo " "Mother, which way did she go?" Monona pointed with her spoon. "She went that way," she said. "I seen her." Lulu looked at the clock. For Monona Mo-nona had pointed toward the railway station. The twelve-thirty train, which every one took to the city for shopping, would be Just about leaving. leav-ing. "Monona," said Lulu, "don't you go out of the yard while I'm gone. Mother, Moth-er, you keep her " Lulu ran from the house and up the street. She was In her blue cotton dress, her old shoes; she was hatless and without money. When she was still two or three blocks from the station, sta-tion, she heard the twelve-thirty "pulling out." She ran badly, her ankles In their low, loose shoes continually turning, her arms held tr.ut at her sides. So she came down the platform, and to the ticket window. The contained ticket man, wonted to lost trains and perturbed faces, yet actually ceased counting when he saw her: "Lenny I Did DI Deacon take that train?" "Sure she did," said Lenny. "And Bobby Lnrkln?" Lulu careo nothing for appearances now. "He went In on the Local," said Lenny, and his eyes widened. "Where?" "See." Lenny thought it through, "Mlllton," he said. "Yes, sure. Mill-ton. Mill-ton. Both of 'em." "How long till another train?" "Well, sir," said the ticket man, "you're In luck, if you was goln' too. Seventeen was late this morning she'll be along. Jerk of a lamb's tail." "Then," said Lulu, "you got to give me a ticket to Millton, without me paying pay-ing till after and you got to lend me two dollars." "Sure thing," said Lenny, with a manner of laying the entire railway system nt her feet. "Seventeen" would rather not have stopped at Warbleton, but Lenny's signal sig-nal was law . the time card, and the magnificent yellow express slowed down for Lt.lu. Hntless. and In her blue cotton gown, she climbed aboard. Then her old inefficiency seized upon her. What was she going to doT Mlllton! She had been there but once, years ago how could she ever find anybody? Why had she not stayed In Warbleton and asked the sheriff or somebody no, not the sheriff. Cornish, Corn-ish, perhaps. Oh. and Dwlght and Ina were going to he angry now 1 And DI little DI. As Lulu thought of her she began to cry. She said to herself that she had taught DI to sew. In sight of Mlllton, Lulu was seized with trembling and physical nausea. She had never been alone In any unfamiliar un-familiar town. She put her hands to her hair and for the first time realised her rolled-up sleeves. She was pulling down these sleeves when the conduct-tor conduct-tor came through the train. "Could you tell me," she said timidly, timid-ly, "the name of the principal hotel In Mlllton ?" Ninlun hnd asked this as they neared Savannah, Georgia. The conductor looked curiously at her. "Why, the Hess house." he said. "Wasn't you expecting anybody to meet you?" he asked, kindly. "No," said Lulu, "but I'm going to find my folks " Her voice trailed away. "Beats all " thought the conductor, using his utility formula for the universe, uni-verse, a In Mlllton Lulu's Inquiry for the Hess house produced no consternation Nobody paid any attention to her. She was almost taken to be a new servant there. "You stop feeling so!" she said to herself angrily nt the lobby entrance. "Ain't you been to that big hotel In Savannah, Georgia?" The Hess house, Mlllton, had a tradition tra-dition of its own to maintain. It seemed, and they sent her to the rear basement door. She obeyed meekly, but she lost a good deal of time he-fore he-fore she found herself nt the end of the office desk. It was still longer before be-fore anyone attended her. "Please, sir!" she burst out. "See if DI Deacon has put her name on your book." Her appeal was tremendous, compelling. com-pelling. The young clerk ll;tcned to her, showed her where to look la the register. When only strange nnrne! and strange writing presented themselves them-selves there, he said: "Tried the parlor?" And directed her kindly and with his thumb, and in t)-c other hnnd a pen divorced from his ear for the ax-press ax-press purpose. (TO HE CONTINUED.) |