The star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1908-1909, 1908-07-13

mix for the cab" she replied. az
could do with a cup of coffee, though"
The Duke. however, would not have
considered 1t the part Of gallantry or
the proper thing at all to put Nora's
sister on a car when the unexpected
privilege of acting as her escort had
fallen to him. He looked around, but
there was no cabin in sight.
There's a plyce just across the wy
what keeps open all night" he said.
I'VE can get some cawffee there If
you'd rather not ave anythin' strong
err
Patsy refused anything stronger.
With profound difidence he offered her
his arm. Feeling faint, she leaned
upon 1t gladly. and they soon were in
stalled at a table with some hot coffee
before them.
The Duke was not a little proud of
the honor dom to him and sought to
cheer his companion up by chatting
animatedly. With instructive delicacy,
however, he %refrained from question:
ing her, out talked about himself. Pat
sy had not heard of his departure from
Maple Grove. sHe told how he had
been mon from there by a tele-
gram from his mother to go to Eng
land and that he had arrived In New
York on his return from hat country
that very day.
II went to the Long Acre theatre
this hevenin', but I didn't see Miss
Nora or you." he said.
NO she replied: I'VE wasn't there
He saw from the absent look In her
eyes that she was not listening to half
of what he said.
"P'raps you'd like to go ono now"
he suggested.
"Home!" she echoed YEARLY. "Oh,
yes. What time is 1t? Gee, it's after II
~o'clock!"'
Requesting her to remain where she
was for a moment and to excuse him,
the Duke went out and in a few min
utes returned with a cab.
you're awful good" she said as he
helped her in. II don't know how to
thank you"
You can best do that by forgittin'
It," he answered. Good night, Miss
Patsy"
He added as the vehicle started in
response TO his signal:
Don't ply the bebby; es 'ad his
fare"
She had given the address Of her
home because she could think of no
other place, put she dreaded to go. Her
parents would be there. and Dan also
probably. What would they say to
her? What could she say to them?
They would renew their ~reproaches,
heap contumely upon her, n she
could not clear herself. If only they
had not told her father. The bare pos
sibility Of this gave her a little cour-
age. Perhaps they had all gone to
bed. She hoped so. She was too tired,
too run down, to think much. If she
could get to her room unperceived and
rest her aching head she might know
better what to do In the morning.
One thing was sure, she would have
nothing more to do with a after the
way he nae treated her. Another thing
also was sure, she would not be able
to return to the Long Acre Theatre
after having left the stage manager in
the lurch as she had done. This did not
trouble her much. h did not want
to return there. She m Nora would
go away somewhere, procure an en-
gagement with a company on tour That
would take them far from everybody
and New York. Some day they would
find out, perhaps, how unjust they
been to her, and Dan would be sorry,
but she would never forgive him.
At the thought that all was over be-
tween them. of the failure OF her hopes
that had sustained her through all the
years of her trials and struggles. n
began to weep.
"Oh, Dan. DAM" she sobbed. How
could you'll Oh, how could you!"
The cab came to a stop In front of
the house. She assembled the stairs
slowly and at the door of her fiat hesi-
tated, still dreading to go In, but feel
ing that she must.
"Help me, Cod" she prayed. II
amt lone nothin' wrong, an I don't
deserve this. l couldn't give my little
sister away!'
AS quietly as possible she opened the
door and entered. els