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Show THREE MEN ivodehouse AND A MAI 13 j S Copyright by George H. Doran Co. ! MP.-irw,-i,B Tronr. ,-- v- - ronr.-.-c-... 3Hn.,Bg--iyrvitTgj yarrjj-anp: y- rw - TSry---- r iiiaV". n i WILL YOU?" Bfra ITorace Hignett, world- ' famous writer on theosophy. author au-thor of "The Spreading Upht," etc., etc., arrives in New York on a lecturing tour. Eustace, her son. Is with tier. Wtndles, ancestral ances-tral home of the Iligrnetts, ts his, so her life is largely devoted to keeping him unmarried. Enter her nephew. Sam. son of Sir Mai- t laby Marlowe, the eminent Lun- don lawyer. It is arranged that Sam and Eustace shall sail together to-gether on the Atlantic the next day. Enter Bream Mortimer. American, son of a friend of an Insufferable American named Bennett, who has been pestering Mrs. Ilijrnett to lease Windies. Bream Informs her that Wilhelmina Wil-helmina Bennett is waiting for Eustace at the Little Church Roipnd the Corner. Bream himself him-self Is in love with Wilhelmina. Mrs. Higrnett marches off to Eustace's Eus-tace's room. The scene shifts to the Atlantic at her pier. Sam. ' heading for the gangplank, meets a erlorious. red-headed girl, with whom he Instantly falls In love, though her dog bites him. Eus- ' tace appears, heart-broken. It appears that his mother had "pinched his trousers" and delayed de-layed the ceremony, whereupon Wilhelmina had declared the wed- i ding off. Sam is pushed over- ,, board, has a desperate struggle In the water with another swimmer swim-mer and rejoins the Atlantic at quarantine. The red-headed girl J Is Wilhelmina Bennett "Blllle." i She hails Sam as a hero and In- i troduces Bream. Eustace, a poor 1 sailor, keeps to his berth. H ' ' doesn't know Blllle Is on board J Sam makes warm love. CHAPTER IV Continued. 6 "Sorry! The suu is shining brighter bright-er than It has ever shone in the history his-tory of the race. Why don't you get up?" "Nothing will Induce me to got up." "Well, go a regular buster and have an egg for breakfast." Eustace Hignett shuddered. "Do you think I am an ostrich?" He eyed Sam sourly. "You seem devilish dev-ilish pleased with yourself this morning!" morn-ing!" Sam dried the razor carefully and put it away. He hesitated. Then the desire to confide in somebody got the better of him. "The fact is," he said apologetically, "I'm in love!" "In love!" Kustace Hignett sat up and bumped his head sharply against the berth above him. "Has this been going on long?" "Ever since the voyage started." "I think you might have told me." said Eustace reproachfully. "I told you my troubles. Why did you not let me know that this awful thing had come upon you?" "Well, as a matter of fact, old man, during these last few days I had a notion that your mind was, so to speak, occupied elsewhere." "Who is she?" "Oil, a girl I met on board." "Don't do it I" said Eustace Hignett solemnly. "As a friend I entreat you not to do It I Take my advice, as a man who knows women, and don't do It!" "Don't do what?" "Propose to her. I can tell by the glitter in your eye that you are intending in-tending to propose to this girl probably prob-ably this morning. Don't do it Women are the devil, whether they marry you or jilt you. Do you realize that women wear black evening dresses that have to be booked up In a hurry, when you are late for the theater, the-ater, and that, out of sheer wanton malignity, the hooks and eyes on those dresses are also made black? Do you realize . . . ?" "Oh, I've thought It all out." "And take the matter of children. How would you like to become the father and a mere glance around you will show you that the chances are enormously In favor of such a thing happening of a hoy with spectacles and protruding front teeth who asks questions all the lime? Out of six small boys whom I saw when 1 came on board, four wore spectacles and had teeth like rabbits. The other two were equally revolting In different styles. How would you like to become be-come the father . . . ?" "There is no need tJ be Indelicate." sa'J Sam stlflly. "A man must take thvse chances." '(live her the miss," pleaded Hignett. Hig-nett. "Stay down here for the rest of the voyage. You can easily dodge her when you get to Southampton. And, if she sends messages, say you're 111 and enn't I've disturbed." Sam gazed at him, revolted. More haji ever he began to understand how It was that a girl with Ideals had broken off her engagement with this man. lie finished dressing, and, after a satisfying breakfast, went on deck. It was, a lie had said, a glorious morning. The sample which be had had through the porthole had not prepared pre-pared W.ri for the magic of It. The phlp swam In a vast howl of the purest pur-est blue on an azure carpet decked with silver. It was a morning which Impelled tt man to great deeds, a morning morn-ing which shouted to him to chuck his chest out and be romantic. The sight of BilHe Bennett, trim and gleanrfng In a pelt g-een sweater and a white akirt had the effect of causing Marlowe Mar-lowe to alter the program which he had sketched out. Proposing to this girl was not a tiling to be put off till after lunch. It was a tiling to be done now and at once. The finest efforts of the finest cooks In the world could not put him in better form than he felt at present. "Good morning, Miss Bennett." "Good morning, Mr. Marlowe." "Isn't It a perfect day?" "Wonderful !" "It makes all the difference on board ship if the weather Is tine." "Yes. doesn't it?" "Shall we walk around?" said Billie. Sam glanced about him. It was the time of day when the promenade deck was always full. Passengers in cocoons co-coons of rugs lay on chairs, waiting n a dull trance till the steward should arrive with the eleven o'clock soup. Others, more energetic, strode up ami down. From the point of view of a man wdio wished to reveal his mosi sacred feelings to a beautiful girl, the place was practically fifth avenue aud Forty-second street. "It's so crowded," he said. "Let's go onto the upper deck." "All right. You can read to me. Go and fetch your Tennyson." Sain felt that fortune was playing into his hands. His four-days' acquaintance ac-quaintance with the bard had been sufficient suf-ficient to show him that the man was there forty ways when it came to writing writ-ing about love. You could open his collected works almost anywhere and shut your eyes and dab down your finger on some red-hot passage. A proposal of marriage is a thing which is rather difficult to bring neatly into tiie ordinary run of conversation. Il wants leading up to. But, If you once start reading poetry, especially Ten nyson's. almost anything Is apt to give you your cue. He bounded light-heartedly light-heartedly into the stateroom, waking Eustace Hignett from an uneasy doze. "Now what?" said Eustace. "Where's that copy of Tennyson you gave me? I left it ah, here It Is. Well, see you later!" "Wait! What are you going to do?" "Oh, that girl I told you about," said Sam, making for the door. "She wants me to read Tennyson to her on tiie upper deck." "Tennyson?" "Yes." "On the upper deck?" "That's the spot." "This Is the end," said Eustace Hignett, Hig-nett, turning his face to the wall. Sam raced up the companionway as far as it went ; then, going out on deck, climbed a flight of steps and found himself In the only part of the ship which was ever even comparatively compara-tively private. The main herd of passengers pas-sengers preferred the promenade deck, two layers below. He threaded b:s way through a maze of boats, rope.-- and curious-shaped steel structures which the architect of the ship seemed to have tacked on nt the last moment in a spirit of sheer exuberance. Above hlra towered one of the funnels, before him a long, slender mast He hurried on, and presently came upon Blllle sitting on a garden seat, backed by the white roof of the smokeroom ; beside this "How Jolly for Her. Like Having a Circus All to Oneseif." was a small deck which seemed to have lost Its way and strayed up here all by itself. It was the deck on which one could occasionally see the patients playing an dd game with long sticks and bits of wood not shufilehoard but something even lower in the mental scale. This morning, however, the devotees of this pastime were apparently appar-ently under proper restraint, for the deck was empty. "This is jolly," he said, sitting down beside the girl and drawing a deep breath of satisfaction. "Yes, I love this deck. It's so peaceful." "It's the only part of the ship where you can he reasonably sure of not meeting stout men In flannels and nautical nau-tical caps. An ocean voyage always makes ine wisli that 1 had a private yacht." "It would be nice." "A private yacht," repeated Sam, sliding a trifle closer. "We would sail about, visiting desert islands which lay like jewels in the heart of tropic sens." "We?" "Most certainly we. It wouldn't be any fun If you were not there." - "That's very complimentary." "Well, it wouldn't. I'm not fond of girls as a rule . . ." "Oh, aren't you?" ."No!" said Sam decidedly. It was a point which he wished to make clear at the outset. "Not at all fond. My friends have often remarked upon it. A palmist once told me that I had one of those rare spiritual natures which iinnot be satisfied with substitutes mt must seek and seek till they find heir soul-mate. When other men all ound me were frittering away their Muotions in Idle flirtations which did lot touch their deeper natures, I was . . I was . . . well, I wasn't. If ,-ou see what I mean." "Oh, you w asn't . . . weren't ?" "No. Some day I knew 1 should meet the only girl I could possibly love, and then I would pour out upon her iie stored-up devotion of a life-time, lay an unblemished heart at her feet, Fold her In my arms and say, 'At last !' " "How jolly or her. Like having a circus all to oneself." "Well, yes," said Sam after a momentary mo-mentary pause. "When I was a child I always thought that" that would be the most wonderful thing in the world." "The most wonderful thing in the world is love, a pure and consuming love, a love which . . ." "Oh, hello!" said a voice. All through this scene, right from rlie very beginning of It, Sam ha J not been able to rid himself of a feeling that there was something missing. The time and the place and the girl they were all present and correct; nevertheless never-theless there was something missing, some familiar object which seemed to leave a gap. He now perceived that what had caused the feeling was the complete absence of Bream Mortimer. He was absent no longer. He was standing in front of them with one leg advanced, his head lowered as If he were waiting for someone to scratch it. Sam's primary Impulse wus to offer him a nut. "Oh, hello, Bream!" said Billie. "Hullo!" said Sam. "Hullo!" said Bream Mortimer. "Here you are !" There was a pause. "I thought you might be here," said Bream. "Y'es, here we are," said Billie. "Yes, we're here," said Sam. There was another pause. "Mind If I join you?" said Bream. "N-no," said Sam. "No," said Billie again.. "No . . . that Is to say ... oh no, not at all." There was a third pause. "On second thoughts," said Bream. "I believe I'll take a stroll on the promenade deck, If you don't mind." They said they didn't mind. Bream Mortimer, having bumped his head twice against overhanging steel ropes, melted away. "Who Is that fellow?" demanded Sam wrathfully." "He's the son of father's best friend." Sam started. Somehow tills girl had always been so Individual to him that he had never thought of her having a father. "We have known each other all our lives," continued Billie. "Father thinks a tremendous lot of Eream. I suppose sup-pose It was because Bream was sailing sail-ing by her that father Insisted on my coming over on this boat. I'm In disgrace, dis-grace, you know. I was cabled for and had to sail at a few days' notice. no-tice. I . . ." "Oh, hello!" "Why, Bream!" said Billie, looking at him as he stood on the old spot In the same familiar attitude with rather less affection than the son of her father's fa-ther's best friend might have expected. expect-ed. "I thought you said you were going down to the promenade deck." "I did go down to the promenade deck. And I'd hardly got there when a fellow who's getting up the ship's concert tomorrow night nobbled me to do a couple of songs. lie wanted to know If I knew anyone else who would help. I came up to ask you," lie said to Sam, "if you would do something." some-thing." "No," said Sam. "I won't." "He's got a man who's going to lecture on deep-sea fish and a couple of women who both want to sing The Rosary,' but he's still an act or two short. Sure you won't rally round?" "Quite sure." "Oh, all right." Bream Mortimer hovered wistfully above them. "It's a great morning, isn't It?" . "Yes." said Sam. "Ob. Bream!" said Billy. "Hello?" "Do be a pet and go and Uilk to Jane Hubbard.. I'm sure she must be feeling lonelj. I left her all by herself her-self down on tins neit deck." , A look of alarm spread Itself over Bream's face. "Jane Hubbard ! Oh, say, have a heart !" "She's a very nice girl." "She's so darned dynamic. She looks at you as if you were a giraffe or something and she would like to take a pot at you with a rille." "Nonsense! Run along. tiet her to tell you some of her big-game hunting hunt-ing experiences. They are must interesting." in-teresting." I'.reain drifted sadly away. "I don't blame Miss Hubbard," said Sam. "What do you mean?" j "Looking at linn as if she wanted to pot at him with a rifle. I should like to do it myself. What were you saying when he came up?" "Oh, don't let's talk about me. Read me some Tennyson." Sam opened the book very willingly. Infernal Bream Mortimer had abso-luetly abso-luetly shot to pieces the spell which had begun to fall on them at the beginning be-ginning of thoir conversation. Only by reading poetry, it seemed to him, could It be recovered. And when he saw the passage at which the volume had opened he realized that his luck was in. Good old Tennyson ! He was ail right. He had the stuff. You could send him to hit in a pinch every time with the comfortable knowdedga that he would not strike out. He cleared his throat. "Oh let the solid ground Not fall beneath my feet Before my life has found What some have found so sweet; Then let come what come may, What matter If I go mad, I shall have had my day. Let the sweet heavens endure. Not close and darken above me Before I am quite quite sure That there Is one to love me. ..." This was absolutely topping. It was like diving off a springboard. lie could see the girP sitting with a soft smile on her face, her eyes, big and dreamy, gazing out over the sunlit sea. He laid down the book and took her hand. "There Is something," he began In a low voice, "which I have been trying to say ever since we met, something which I think you must have read In my eyes." Her head was hont. She did not withdraw her hand. "Until this voyage began," he went on. "I did not know what life meant And then I saw you! It was like the gate of heaven opening. You're the dearest gir! I ever met, and you can bet I'll never forget . . ." He stopped. "I'm not trying to make It 1 v fyf & . Km i,;'Ml "Darling," She Said, "I've a Confession to Make." rhyme," he said apologetically. "Billie, "Bil-lie, don't think me silly ... 1 mean . . . If you had the merest notion, dearest ... I don't know what's the matter with me Billie, darling, you are the only girl in the world! I have been looking for you for years and years and I have found you at last, my soul-mate, Surely this does not come as a surprise sur-prise to you? That Is, I mean, you must have seen that I've been keen. . . . There's that d d Walt' Mason stuff again !" His eyes fell on the volume beside him and he uttered an exclamation of enlightenment. "It's those poems," he cried. "I've been boning them up to such an extent that they've got me doing It, too. What I'm trying to say is, Will you marry me?" She was drooping toward him. Her face was very sweet and tender, her eyes misty. He slid an arm about her waist. She raised her lips to his. Suddenly she drew herself away, a cloud on her face. "Darling," she said, "I've a confe sion to make." "A confession? You? Nonsense!" "I can't get rid of a horrlblt thought I was wondering if this will last." "Our love? Don't be afraid that It will fade ... I mean why, it's so vast It's bound to last . . . that Is to say, of course It will." I "The girl you are engaged to J t is the same girl who promised I j to marry me." " (TO BE CONTINUED.) " |