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Show j Alabaster Lamps j By MARGARET TURNBULL CoPlrrtrtt. MM. by Marxaret TorsboU. WNUSorvic CHAPTER XIV 22 Jlrs. Polly Johnston, returning from an aimless walk about the piazza, was told by the elevator boy that be had Just been given n message to the effect ef-fect that a gentleman was waiting for her In the lounge. "Ills card," demanded Tolly, wrinkling wrin-kling her nose a little in front of the mirror to see If she needed powder. The boy handed her a slip of paper on which was written, "To see Mrs. Johnston, with a message from Mr. Kangeley." "Take me up first," Polly Instructed the boy, "and have the gentleman told 1 will be down in a moment." She went to her room, straightened her hat, powdered her nose, tucked a stray lock away under her hat, surveyed sur-veyed herself carefully In the mirror, nnd sauntered back to ring for the elevator again, wondering about the message. Claude had chosen a secluded and recessed corner, from which he could ohtain an unobstructed view of those who entered from the lobby into the lounge. He wondered about Polly, after all these years'. What was her uiind toward Loren Rangeley? What changes had time wrought? Re had only that momentary glimpse in the Hillsborough Inn to go by. When he saw her he forgot everything every-thing else. Changes ! To be sure she had changed, as twenty years must change every man or woman, but she-was she-was Polly, and ks he admitted to himself, him-self, still lovely enough to hold any man's glances. He saw how she was ' stared at as she came In indifferently. She was all in black. A black satin cape, lined with Delft blue, bung from her shoulders, and a bat of the same lovely color on her ruddy hair. She i gave a swift look about her, and Claude rose. As Claude came toward her, Polly Btared, then her eyes changed and the pupils contracted. He had been much. In her thoughts lately, and despite the years, she knew this must be the man j she most dreaded. Indeed, after the first long look, she actually recognized ' him. Polly stopped for a moment, ' then came on. Claude stood in the corner waitiDg for her, and she faced him. "A trick?" site asked In a low voice. "No," Claude answered her steadily, "flow, are yon, Polly? I am here with " a message about Loren Rangeley. He will be at my hotel in half an hour, in time for afternoon ten, and the .: Idea was that you should Join us there ;-. to meet him." c "Whose idea?" asked Polly. "And '! whrt are us?" '' "My Idea," Claude answered as ff promptly, "and .us are Mary and Ned 'l liimgeley, Loren's son." "J "I don't think I know him." .. "Yes, I think you do, but you know "y him as Ned Carter. His name Is Ned gs Carter Rangeley. He was at Peace r.:. Valley, with me." IE "Oil, the young man who drove the car?" 5 "Yes," admitted Claude and waited. , He had not to wait long. "I don't like your idea," Polly told him, looking .., past him out of the window. "And," ;fche continued, still gazing past him, j. "1 have no desire to be one of 'us'." u She rose as though the interview .vrns at an end. Claude rose, too, but stood so that he blocked her way. jS "Hit down. Polly," he said, "and hear why it might be better to change jour mind." I 'oily hesit ated. Unless she desired a scone, there was no getting past that solid figure. She had to look at him now. The look relieved her. The man before her had changed with the years, but he was neither a boor nor a clown. She had not been so fatally wrong about Claude, years ago. There was "a something" about Claude Dunns. Polly sat down. Ij "Make it brief as you can," she jEjHsked, again looking past him. "This 'liMirt of thing is tiring." pi "I didn't choose It," Claude told her. ;"It was forced upon me, and I undor-OJistund undor-OJistund just how you feel. I'm here 'olely on Mary's account." J. "Mary!" breathed Polly. "Leave (Mary out of It, as much as you can." Polly saw Claude's face change and ; realised that before her was a man ho was keeping a tight rein on his ..('motions and speech, for her sake. ' t.Kot thus would he choose to speak to 1 ','t f Mary. "Mary told me that you had sent for ,1-oiva." he began, and he saw Polly ('ain.'h. "You might have known she .ivouUI. Yon might have known how ';ho'd feel about It." P;s "1 did know." 1 '' "Well. then, you can understand o'f Advil I told Mary that T.oreu was eoni-W-iig to see mo, and that his comim; to itVI'aris had nothing to do with bis olt'vantiug to joe you hut was purely a r! Matter of business, that Mary wanted to know at once. Mary thought tlii 'he ought to rush to you right away f;c?'uid warn you of the true slate of af-jjf? af-jjf? 'uli-s." ,;(! "And for reasons of your own. you jjyrever,i(d her. Well, I'm waiting to yj:mov ihe trio slate of affairs." '-laik'o drew a long breath and to' It dhl not really seem worth while, but he had promised Mary. "That Loren would never have said whatever what-ever he has said to you if he'd known you were Mrs. Dabbs. I'm worth a great many thousands a year to Loreu Rangeley. To him 1 am Dabbs of 'SCO URKEN" the 'Dirt Destroyer.' If you haven't seen the signs on the billboards bill-boards " "I have seen them. Deplorably ugly." But Polly was looking at him now. "Well, ugly or not. you know It spells money. There's plenty for you and Mary." "For Mary yes." "You're legally entitled to Jour share, without having to take me with it," Claude .informed her coolly. "It will be much pleasanter than taking Loren's money, I can tell you that." I "It's all very Interesting," Polly informed in-formed him, and now she was looking at the floor, "but still I fail to see why I should come this afternoon." "For Mary," Claude told her shortly. short-ly. "Ned Rangeley's in love witli her." Polly started. "And of course, pleased?" "Only If Mary wants him. I'd like to keep iter to myself, just as much as you would, but we can't." He gave her a long look. "You might think of her, Polly. Why should our d d blunder cloud this bit of her life? You've made a good job of Mary, so far, Polly. I have to hand you that." "Well?" Polly flung at him. "Well," Claude returned with finality, final-ity, "finish your job." Polly looked at him now, saw what be meant and went white for a mo- She Faced Him. ment. Claude waited, never taking his eyes from her. It was a long minute. "I'll come. Wait till I change ray gown." "No time," Claude told her. "i'ou look tine as you are." "And the red-haired devil knows it," he added to himself as he marshaled her through the lobby to the gondola steps. Polly studied the man who sat beside be-side her as the gondola carried them along the canal. It was even faintly amusing that after all these years they should be sitting side by side in a gondola in Venice. Her mind flew back to the time she had so resolutely put behind her. It began to dawn on the Polly Johnston of today that the Polly Johnston of. yesterday had underestimated underesti-mated her man. She went back, though it was a disturbing tiling to do, with the man himself silent beside her, to the morning she had made up her mind to leave. She did herself justice. It was not the money, entirely, that had made her decide. She remembered remem-bered doubling Claude's powers of imagination, of capability for life In a larger way thai) just that of a storekeeper store-keeper in a country village. She re inenibeivd how she had tried the shibboleth shib-boleth thai had shaken her newly awakened desire to stay with him. She began to wonder about his life. Claude touched her arm gently. He was holding out his hand lo help her ' "" -'---'-'-' ' ' '' '' ' '' jyjj from the gondola, and he was doing It gracefully. Mary and Ned had begun very badly. bad-ly. Claude's abrupt departure hud found them both unprepared. Mary had risen lo her feel impetuously and followed him to the door, only to realize that it looked absurd and to go back to the . window, where she stood watching her father depart. "One father gone and another father coming, makes a complicated afternoon," after-noon," she ventured. Ned agreed and suggested that tu while away the time between fathers they might order a peculiarly rk-h tea. The waiter had come and gone, and still they were in that tiresome sitting sit-ting room, which seemed to Mary to have held them for ages. "I suppose we'd better stay here?" she Inquired lightly. "Much better," and Ned drew a wicker chair to the balcony window for her, and arranged himself on a cushion at her feet. Mary felt grateful. grate-ful. She did not have to meet his eyes, In this position. "Sure as we stay out of this room," he told her, "my father will turn up and then Claude will accuse us of deserting de-serting our posts." "Do you call my father 'Claude'?" inquired Mary, for want of something better to say. "I'll call him 'father,' gladly, as soon as you give me the right," Ned reminded re-minded her, and turned to see how she took It. She did not take it well at all. She leaned against the chair, her face hidden hid-den in her hands. "Mary, take your hands away and look at me. I never was more serious in my life. If you'll listen to me, you'll see how hard I'm trying to keep you- from spoiling Claude's romance. ro-mance. But for you, your mother and Claude might be happy." Mary's hands came away from her face now. "But for me! Why, I'm all that holds them together." "So you think, but you're quite wrong. If you were safely removed from their grasp, Polly would think how lonely Claude was, and Claude would think how sad it was for Polly. Even at over forty, my dear, grownups grown-ups can't make love before their. children. chil-dren. But if you should engage yourself your-self to a nice, handy, lovable young man, like myself, then that lets father and mother off to attend to their own affairs, while the responsibility for making Mary happy falls on the young man's shoulders. I know a pair that fairly ache for that responsibility." He took a step nearer and the waiter entered with the tea. By the .time he had gone again, Polly and Claude had entered. Even as Mary fle'w across the room to kiss and cling to her mother, her mind paid homage to her father's greatness. To bring Polly Johnston into this situation, with this promptness, prompt-ness, was marvelous In his daughter's eyes. She longed to have been present pres-ent to see It accomplished. Mother, of all people, sitting calmly at Claude Dabbs' tea table, drawing off -her gloves and making conversation with Ned I Claude came toward his daughter, a humorous question in his eyes. But it remained unspoken, for at that moment mo-ment Loren Rangeley was announced and entered. Ned, standing beside Mrs. Johnston-Dabbs, Johnston-Dabbs, was the first to meet his father's fa-ther's eyes. Mary saw Loren stiffen, and then come forward with an easy : "Ah Ned. This is an unexpected pleasure." "Quite," said Ned, without showing that one of his pet theories had gone all to smash. Far from Dabbs being Loren's agent, it was Loren who bore himself as though he was Claude's agent. Ned meant to get It out of Claude before the evening was much older. "I'm staying with Dabbs," he volunteered. He did not want to let his father down, either. "I didn't know." Loren was making his way to Mrs. Polly with a smile and outstretched hand, hut somehow or other Claude was there before him. "Think I'll have to Introduce this lady to you, Mr. Rangeley," he announced an-nounced amiably. "Mrs. Claude Dabbs." Loren's face was a study In mixed emotions, but Polly was calm and smiling as she lifted her eves to his. (TO BK CONTINUED.) . . |