Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-10-20

/ ~ nGdu+ y IL iiiC ipliSilt w pun iti
hands upon it. to run her fingers
through the tousled hair. TO touch it
with her lips; but no. Perhaps YOU
are tired; perhaps YOU have worked
too hard Why not put aside your
brushes for a week."
i've good mind to chuck 1t into
| the lake | simply can't paint any
more" He flung down the brushes.
I'm fool. Celeste, 2 fool. I'm
CRYING for the moon, that's what
the matter is What's the use of
beating about the bush? You know
as we'll as I do that It's Nora"
Her heart contracted. and for a
little while she could not Bee him
clearly.
But Hhat earthly chance have
II" he went on, innocently but ruth
lessly No one can help loving
! Nora. =
No in a small voice.
It's all rot. this talk about affini
ties. There's always some poor devil
left outside. but who can help loving
Nora2" he repeated.
who indeed"
And there's not the least chance
In the world for me"
Oh never can Iell uHlh YOU puS
Il to the test
DO YOU think I have chance?
Is it possible that Nora may care
little for me-" He turned his head
toward her eagerly.
WHO knows" she wanted him to
have it over with. to learn the truth
that to Nora Harrigan he would
never he more than an anliable com
rade He would then. have none TO
turn 70 but her. What mattered u
if her own heart ached so she might
sootbe the hurt in his? She laid a
hand upon. his shoulder. so lightly
that he was only dimly conscious OF
the contact.
IT'S rummy old world Here
I've gone along all these years
Twenty six" smiling.
well. that's long time. Never
bothered my head about a woman
selfish. perhaps. Had good time
came and went as | pleased. And tnen
I met Nora
Yes"
IF only she'd been stand-offish, like
these other singers, why, "a nave
been all right today. But she suc,
a. brick! She's such a good fellow.
She treats us all alike; sings WheIi
we ask her to; always ready TOT
romp. Think of her making us an
take the Kneip-cure the otner niShl
And we marched around the tountsli,
singing Mary had a NIUE Ia, la,no,
Barefooted in the grass! When
man marries he doesn't want wlte
half so much as a good comraoei
somebody to slap him on the PACK III
the morning to hearten him up Tor
| the days work; and to cuGdle nun
up when he comes home tired or
disappointed. or unsuccessful ~
matter what mood he's m Is my
English getting away from you
No, I understand all YOU say
Her hand rested tritle heavier upon
his shoulder. that was all
Mora. would be that kind OF a Wife.
Honor. anger. valor, fire, as steven
son says Hang the picture; what am
7 going to do with it, =,
. Honor. anger. valor. fire,
Celeste repeated slowly. Yes thaI
is Nora" A bitter little smile moved
her Inns as she recalled the happen
he must find out for himself: he must
meet the hurt from Nora, not from
her "Hov long, Abbott, have you
known. your friend Mr.. Courtlandt:
Bows together playing light
tattoo with his mahl-stick.
How old is he"
"a bout thirty-two or three.
He is very rich?'
oceans of money: throws 1t away,
hut not fast enough to get rid of IT,
He is what you say in English
Well with mock gravity, II
shouldn't like to be the tiger tnat
crossed his path. Wild; that's the
You are laughing. All, know! l
should say dissipated.'
"Courtlandt? Come. now, Celeste
docs he look dissipated?
moo"
"He drinks when he chooses, he fiirts
with a pretty woman when he chooses,
he smokes the finest tobacco there is
when he chooses. and he gives them
all ND when he chooses, He is like the
seasons; he comes and goes and no
,ody can change his habits
"FIe has had no affair?
"Why. Courtlendt hasn't any heart. /
IT'S a mechanical device to keep his
tlood i'm circulation, that's all 7 am
the most intimate friend he has, and
Vet | know no more than you how he
| Ives and where he goes
she let her hand fall from his shout
der. She was glad that he did not
know.
"But look" she cried in warning.
Abbott looked.
! \ woman WAS CDIillilE StI clltlS lOhil
The path from the wooded prOmontory,
a woman undeniably handsome in a
cedar-tinted linen dress, eXquisitely
fashioned, with a touch of vivid scar
| lot on her hat and a most tantali1iDg
| fash of scarlet ankle. II was Flora
Dnsimone, fresh from her morning
bath and a substantial breakfast. The
errand that had brought her from
| AK les Bains was confessedlY mer
col "a
dramatist's instinct to prolong q situ-
alton. Thus, to make her act of mercy
seem infinitely larger than it was she
was determined first to cast the Apple
Of Discord into this charming corner
| q Eden. The Apple of Discord, as
every man knows, is the only thing
woman can throw with any accuracy.
! The artist snatched mp his brushes,
End ruined the painting forthwith,
flor all time. Tho foreground was, in
his opinion, beyond redemption; SO,
with savage humor, he rapidly
Iinned in a score of impossible trees,
turned midday into sunset, with riot
of colors which would have made the
| Chinese new year in Canton a drab
and sober event in comparison He
hated Flora Desimone, as all Morals
adherents most properly did, but with
a hatred wholly reflective and adapted
to Morals moods.
! You have spoiled it," cried Celeste.
She had watched the picture grow,
and TO see it "uthlessly destroyed this
way hurt her How could you"
Worst | ever did" He began to
change the whole effect, chuclSling
laudibly as he worked. Sunset divided
honors with moonlight. II was no
longer incongruous; it was ridiculous.
He leaned back and laughed, I'm
Ia send il n l. > A giOo md coll n
an after thought"
"CtiVp il 10 me-