Ladysmith news-budget. [volume] (Ladysmith, Rusk County, Wis.) 1907-1927, 1910-04-08

the sort that appeal to a girl like you.
To some women they might. But not
to you. Why did you come here, and
why do you stay? There is some rea-
son you haven't
'Scuse me, Miss Lanier,' said a
voice at the entrance of the alcove,
''The Boss sent me to ask you would
you come to the drOrin room. He
says the supper-room's open, an he'd
like you to socp'rintend things. I've
been lookin' everywhere for you. Gee,
but goin' through a bunch of cops in
a poolroom and is pie alongside of
workin' way through this push"
The speaker was squat, swarthy
little man on whom his ready-made
evening clothes sat with the grace
and comfort of set of thumb screws.
Give recognized him with difficulty
as the usually self-assured BILLY"
Shevlin, Conover's most trusted POI
litical henchman.
Every WE'LL" replied Anice Lanier.
rising to obey the summons. She
noted the dumb misery in Billy's face,
and paused to ask:
aren't you having a good time,
Mr.. Shevlin?"
ga good time? Me? Oh, yes. Sure,
/ am. l only hope no one'll mistake
me in this open-face suit for sena-
tor or a mattinay idol. That's all
that's botherin' me. I've been rubin
elbows with the Van Alstynes that
own half OF Pompton Av'no and live
in Yoorup, and with Stat Kerrigan's
wife, who used to push coffee and
sinkers at Kerry's beanery. Oh, I'm
in sassiety all right. An I feel like
pair of yellow shoes at fun'ral."
Never mind.' laughed Anice. '"The
supper-rooms open, and you'll enjoy
that part of the evening, at any rate"
"I will, Ell? Not me, Miss! The
Boss's passed the word that the boys
is to hold back, and kind of make
noise like inherent bystanders till
the swell push is all fed. So it's me
for the merry outskirts while they're
gettin' their moneys WORT"
Give Standish watched them thread
their way through the crowd, until
Anice's dainty little head with it's
crown Of shimmering bronze hair was
lost to sight. Then he sat looking
noodily out on the heterogeneous, III
assorted company before him.
Now that he had talked with Anice
he no longer regretted the impulse
that had led him to accept Mrs. Con
overs invitation. The girl had al
ways exerted a subtle charm, name
less influence, over him. Years be-
fore, when he was struggling, penni-
less, to make living in a city where
his family name opened every door to
him, yet where it was more of an i'm
pediment than otherwise in his task of
bread winning; even then he had
worked with a vague, halfformed hope
of Anice Lanier sharing his final vic
tory.
Then had come her own financial
reyerses, her fathers death, and her
withdrawal from the world that had
known them both. Since that time
circumstances had checked their grow
ing intimacy. 1t was pleasant to
Standish to feel that that intimacy
and understanding were now renewed
almost just where they had left off.
His battle for livelihood and success
had beaten from him much of the
buoyancy that had once been his
charm. Anice seemed the one link
connecting him with Youth-the link
whereby he might one day win his
way back to that dear lost country of
his boyish hopes and dreams. 1t
would be good to forget, with her, the
dreary uphill struggle that was so bit
ter and youth-sapping when endured
alone Then he laughed grimly at
his own silly fantasy, aid came back
to everyday self-contrCI.
The rooms were clearing. Give got
to his feet and followed the general
drift toward the enormous ballroom
in the rear of the mansion that had
for the occasion been converted into
banquet hall.
On the way he encountered a long,
lean, pasty-faced young man who
hailed him with a weary:
Hello, Standsh! Didn't expect to
see you here Beastly bore, isn't it?
And the governor dragged me all the
way from New York to show up at
It,"
'You spend most of your time in
New York nowadays, don't you Jer-
ry?' said Give.
Say, old chap protested young
Conover, "cut out the Jerry can't
you? My Christian names Gerald.
Jerry was all right enough when
was kid in this one-horse provincial
hole. But it would swamp a man OF
my standing in New York
Give had fair idea of the stand
ing in question. A half-baked lad,
turned out of Harvard after two years
of futile loafing, sent on trip around
the world Chat eliminated in a de-
lightfulIy miSspent year in Paris, at
last coming home with a we'll
grounded contempt for his native city,
and turned loose at his own request
on long-suffering New York with
more money than belonged to him
and fewer brains than sufficed to keep