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Show I STORY j the girl 1 H fr' 4i HIS TOWN By MARIE VAN VORST Ilkitrations by M. G. KETTNER j (Uopjrlnht, lalO, br Tbo Bobbs-MerrlU UoJ 18 I SYNOPSIS. Dan Blair, the 22-year-oM son of the fif ty-millton-dollar copper klnfr of Blair-town, Blair-town, Mont., Is a puest at the English home of Lady Galorey. Dan's father had been courteous to Lord Galorey durlig his visit to the United States and the courtesy is now belnff returned to the young roan. The youth has an ideal girl In his mind. He meets Lily. Duchess of Breakwater, a beautiful widow, who Is attracted by his immense fortune and takes a liking- to her. When Dan was a bov, a girl sang a solo at a church, and he had never forgotten her. The Ga-loreys. Ga-loreys. I.ily and Dan attend a London theater where one Letty Lane Is the star. Dan recognizes her as the girl from his town, and going behind the scenes introduces intro-duces himself and she remembers him. He learns that Prince Ponlotowsky Is suitoi and escort to Lettv. Lord Galorey Ga-lorey and a friend named Ruggtes determine deter-mine to protect the westerner from Lily and other fortune hunters. Young Blair goes to see Lily: he can talk of nothing hut Letty and this angers the Duchess. The westerner finds Letty ill from hard work, but she recovers and Ruggles and Dan Invite her to supper. She asks Dan to build a home for disappointed theatrical the-atrical people. Dan visits Lily, for the ime forgetting Letty. and later announces an-nounces his engagement to the duchess. Letty refuses to sing for an entertainment entertain-ment given by Lily. Galorey tells Dan that all Lily cares for Is his money, and tt is disclosed that he and the duchess have been mutually In love for years. CHAPTER XVI Continued. Galorey repeated vaguely, "State?" "Why, she's all run down, tired out; she's got no real friends in London." The other man flicked the ash from his cigarette and looked at Blair's boy through his monocle. "And you thought that Lily might befriend her. old chap?" "Yes," nodded Dan, "just give her a lift', you know." Galorey nodded back, smiling gently. gent-ly. "I see, I see a moral, spiritual lift? I see I see." He glanced at the woman with his strange smile. She put her cigarette down and seated herself, clasping her hands around her knees and looked at her fiance. "It's none of my business what Letty Let-ty Lane's reputation is. I don't care, but you must understand one thing, Dan, I'm not a reformer, or a charitable charit-able institution, and if she comes here it is purely professional." He took the subject as settled, and asked for a copy of the program and put it in his pocket. "I'll get the names of her songs from her and take the thing myself to Harrison's. And I'd better hustle, I guess; there's no time to lose between now and Sunday." Sun-day." And he went out triumphant. Galorey remained, smoking, and the duchess continued her notes in silence, sil-ence, cooling down at her desk. Her companion knew her too well to speak to her until she had herself in hand, and when finally she took up her pen and turned about, she appeared conscious con-scious for the first of his presence. "Here still!" she exclaimed. "I thought I might do for a safety valve, Lily. You could let some of your anger out on me." The duchess left her defk and came over to him. "I expect you despite me thoroughly, thorough-ly, don't you, Gordon?" They had not been alone together since her engagement to Blair, for she had taken pains to avoid every opportunity oppor-tunity for a tete-a-tete. "Despise you?" he repeated gently. "It's awfully hard, isn't it, for a chap like me to despise anybody? We're none of us used to the best quality of behavior, you know, my dear girl." "Don't talk rot, Gordon," she murmured. mur-mured. "You didn't ask my advice," he continued, con-tinued, "but I don't hesitate to tell you that I have done everything I could to save the boy." She accepted this philosophically. "Oh, I knew you would; I quite expected ex-pected it, but " and in the look she threw at him there was more liking than resentment "I knew you, too; you couldn't go very far, my dear fellow." fel-low." "I think Dan Blair Is excellent stuff," Gordon said. "He Is the greenest, youngest, most ridiculous infant." she exclaimed with irritation, and laughed. "His money is old enough to walk, however, isn't it, Lily?" She made an angry gesture. "I expected you'd say something loathsome." Her companion met her eyes directly. direct-ly. She left her chair and came and sat down beside him on the small sofa. As he did not move, or look at her. hut regarded his cigarette with interest, she leaned close to him and whispered: "Gordon, try to be nice and decent. Try to forget yourself. Don't you see what a wonderful chance it is for me. and that, as far as you and I are concerned, it can't go on?" The face of the man by her side ;rew somber. The charm this woman had for, him had never lessened since the day when he told her he loved her. long before his marriage, and they were both too poor. "We have always been too poor, and Edith is jealous of me every day and hour qt her life. Can't you be generous?" gener-ous?" He rose and stood over her, looking down at her beautiful form and her somewhat softened face, but his eyes were hard and his face very pale. "You had better go. Gordon," she said slowly; "you had better go. . . ." Then, as he obeyed her and went like a flash as far as the door, she followed fol-lowed him and whispered softly: "If you're really only jealous, I can forgive for-give you." He managed to get out: "His father fath-er was my friend; he sent the boy to me and I've been a bad guardian." He made a gesture of despair. "Put yourself your-self in my place. Let Dan Blair go, Lily; let him go." Her eyelids flickered a little, and she said sharply: "You're out of your senses, Gordon and what If I love him?" With a low exclamation he caught her hand at the wrist so hard that she cried out, and he said between his teeth: "You don't love him! Take those words back!" "Of course I do. Let me free!" "No," he said passionately, holding her fast. "Not until you take that back." 1 His face, his tone, his force, dominated domi-nated her; the remembrance of their past, a possible future, made her wav- "I Don't Love That Boy, of Course. I'm Marrying Him for His Money." er under his eyes, and the woman smiled at him as Blair had never seen her smile. "Very well, then, goose," she capitulated capi-tulated almost tenderly; "I don't love "that boy, of course. I'm marrying him for his money. Now, will you let me go?" But he held her still' more firmly and kissed her several times before he finally set her free, and went out of the house miserable bound to her by the strongest chains bound in his conscience and by honor to his trust to Dan's father, and yet handicapped by another sense of honor which decrees de-crees that man must keep sile.je to the end. CHAPTER XVII. Letty Lape Sings. The house of the Duchess of Breakwater Break-water in Park Lane was white, with green blinds and green balconies; beautiful, distinguished and old, mellow mel-low with traditions, and the tide of fashion poured its stream into the music-room to listen to the Sunday concert. Without, the day -was bland and beautiful, mild spring in the deep sweet air, and already the bloom lay over the park and along the turf. Piccadilly Pic-cadilly was ablaze with flowers, and in the windows and in the flower-women's baskets they were so sweet as to make the heart ache and to make the senses thrill. Keen to the spring beauty, the last guest to gi into the drawing-room of the Duchess of Breakwater Break-water was the young American man in whom the magic of the season had stirred the blood. He seemed the youngest and the brightest guest to cross the sill of the great house whose debts he was going to pay, and whose future he was going to. secure with American money. Close after him a motor car rolled up to the curb, and under the awning Letty Lane passed quickly, as though thistledown, blown into the distinguished distin-guished house. The actress was taken possession of by several people and shown up-stairs. Dan spoke to his hostess, who wore, over her azure dress, a necklace given her by Dan. She said he was "too late lor words," and why hadn't he come before. After greeting him she set him free, and he went eagerly to find his place next to an elderly woman whom he liked immensely. Lady Cai-warn. Cai-warn. She had given him twenty pounds for some of his poor. Lady Caiwarn had a calm, kind face, and Dan sat down beside ber, well out of the crush, and they talked amiably throughout the violin solo. "Think of it," she said, "Letty Lane of the Gaiety Is going to sing. I'd sit through a great deal for that. Let that man with the fiddle do his worst." Blair . laughed appreciatively. He thought Lady Caiwarn would be a good friend for Miss Lane, better than the duchess herself. "I wish Lily could hear you talk about her violinist." violin-ist." he said, delighted; "she thinks he's the whole show." And tentatively, tentative-ly, his ingenuous eyes fixed on bis friend, he asked: "I wonder how you would like to meet Miss Lane. She's perfectly ripping, and she's from my state." . "Meet her!" Lady Caiwarn exclaimed, ex-claimed, but before she could finish, through the room ran the little anticipatory anti-cipatory rustle that comes before the ' great, and which, when they have 1 gone, breaks into applause. The great ' actress had appeared to give her number. num-ber. Dan and Lady Caiwarn, behind the palms in a little corner of their own, watched her. A clever understanding of the world into which she was to come this day, had made the girl dress like a charm. She stood quietly by the piano, her hands folded. Among the high ladles of the English world in their splendid frocks, their jewels and feathers, she was a simple figure, her dress snow white, high to her throat, unadorned by any gay color, according to the fashion of the time. It was such a dress as Romney might have painted, and under her arms and from across her breast there fell a soft coral-colored silken, scarf. The costume was daring in its simplicity. She might have been Emma, Lady Hamilton, because be-cause perfectly beautiful, perfectly talented, tal-ented, she could risk Bevere simplicity, simplic-ity, having in herself the fire and the art and the seduction. Her hair was a golden crown and her eyes like stars. She was excited, and the scarlet had run along her cheeks like wine spilled over ivory. i She looked around the room, failed to see Blair, but saw the Duchess ol Breakwater in her velvet and her jewels. jew-els. Letty Lane began to sing. Dan and she had chosen Mandalay and she began with it. Her dress only was simple. All the complexity of her talent, tal-ent, whatever she knew of seduction and charm, she put in the rendering oi her song. Even the conventional audience, au-dience, most of which knew her well, were enchanted over again, and they went wild about her. She had never been so charming. The men clapped her until she began in self-defense another an-other favorite of the moment, and ended end-ed in a perfect huzzah of applause. She refused to sing again until, in the distance, she saw Dan standing by the column near his seat. Then indicating indi-cating to the pianist what she wanted, she sang The Earl of Moray; such a rendering of the old ballad as had not been heard in London, and coming, as it did, from the Hps of a popular singer sin-ger whose character and whose verve were not supposed to be sympathetic to a piece of music of this kind, the effect was startling. Letty Lane's face grew pale with the touching old tragedy, trag-edy, the scarlet faded from her cheeks, her eyes grew dark and moist, she might indeed herself have been the lady looking from the castle wall 1 while they carried the body of her i dead lover under those beautiful eyes. (TO BE CONTINUED.) |