Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1914-04-23
CHAPTER xx1-(continued).

CHAPTER XXI-(Continued).
Harlan frowned. Hen and Ben had
not improved .Aurelie's good name in
Rome, Iowa, by going bankrupt back
ing her maiden stage tour. She rambled
on: Now tell me, who made this w
to come in and surprise me?"
They looked at each other. w met
here tonight" said Harlan, lin the
theater."
"Indeed?" She read them a shrewd
instant. And do you like the piece?
l don't. It's silly, Mr.. Curran. l don't
think SO much Of the stage as 1 did.
It's all graft, n unless a girl is very
lucky she won't get on unless
Aurelie paused-"unless she has the
mighty good to me-"
Il suspect, Aurelie." murmured Mr..
Curran. you are mighty good to them"
She gave Mr.. Curran q soulful enig-
matte glance. That's why I like you.
Mr.. Curran! Just saying things like
that" She sighed: Harlan wouldn't"
She looked at him with long reproach.
Harlan could not smile. He was be-
whereby trying to imagine where
Aurelie had acquired all these manner
n yet not overlaid her n~aturalness'
She dressed beautifully, yet with taste,
even with all her old vagabond love
Of colors. She made them live with
AAColI1l SOIldIl c 0LlllE hAlSW III I'LL
press on the audiences. Pretty things
n gladness! But one of the review
ers talked Of Aurelie and the psychol-
ogy Of dress, and Aurelie shuddered'
LIE bon Dieu, did not psychology have
to do with ghosts!
h went on plaintively merry:
Sometimes I do get tired. Ada Nor
man says I haven't enough talent to
go on except my face. Just ! a lot
of kids who've come up from the chorus
pretty soon I'll have to depend on the
masseurs, n grease paint won't make
up what I lose. Then ling! says
Ada!" Aurelie looked t~houghtfully at
them both. But you now 1 don't care,
I'm going to ave my money, n have
a cunning little place and some babies
and &c hunting rabbits sometime with
Uncle Mich in the snow!"
THAT is a large n brilliant pro
gram, Aurelie!" Mr.. Curran had to
laugh. Harlan's smile came doggedly
at last. 1t was hard to resist her
spirits. She was unspoiled, but Joy had
been set free! In the hearts Of both
men had grown q miserable shame hat
they had quarreled over Joe Benham.
The gilded youth, and the blatant press
for Aurelie who was thinking of Old
Michigan and tracking rabbits In the
snow!
She went on stabbing the town and
stage folk with a vtvacious and heed
less wit. She asked of Rome, Iowa. So
Harlan was in politics? What was he
running for? She just couldn't remem-
Der when she told the comedian whom
she had the date" with tonight. She
had said her friend was running for the
~penitentiary! And Mon Dieu, the
comedian in~terpolated this in his lines
and broke her all up with laughing.
And the house didn't know, Of course
but it laughed with her!
Harlan listened. A Van Hart
chuckled at by a comedy man-and
ing-as exasperating as trying to be
stern with. Aurelie! She was bubbling
with laughter. District attorney! OF
course! Something long and import
ant! I didn't mean the penitentiary!"
And she almost had the two men
laughing with her-almost Only the
desperate hurt was there. And not for
Benham. Wiley looked triumphantly
across the table at Harlan. Right?
OF course he was right
But why did you come, Mr.. Cur
ran? Just to see me?"
TIC give you this, Aurelie." He drew
quick rush of tears to her eyes was re-
ward. She had the lost trinket to her
lips, to the amazement Of all the after
theater feeders.
The boys found it behind the clap
boards in your little white room"
It's just as you left it. They keep
1t waiting for you, Aurelie."
And then she cried indeed amid the
cafe feeders. Wiley looked away. "A
child-just a child, yes, Harlan" he
muttered, and the other nodded.
They all o you. Even John. Your
help and gifts and letters-why, ever
SOU old John couldn't get around 1t
ALI"
II loved him, too-only he was too re-
ligious for mel"
Mr.. Curran pointed at the rosary. 80
you are, Aurelie. Or thinking Of Uncle
Mich and Peter and the baby wouldn't
make you cry-among this sort Of peo-
pie! And this queer little chain of
yours. 1t must have been your mothers
and I know where it came from"
Her yes widened. MY mothers
Yes-yes-but where?"
New Orleans. A crazy silversmith on
Chartres street who thought he was a
genius. So he marked all his rosaries
and never made much else"
why, I had it when I done come up
river. When Captain Tfnkletoes stole
me Uncle Michigan says he thought
l was a boy when they stole mel"
II know Mich's old yarn. But this
rosary-1 hate to show you-but-the
cross is gone"
n looked quickly at him. He so I'M
derstood what it would mean to her.
And Harlan, watching the two, saw
what a common piece of sentiment they
were. the same Migrants Of soul.
II wouldn't say anything about it,
murmured Aurelie, "only It was my
mothers. And it's dreadful not to have
a mother-only Ada Norman and q
hairdresser!" She left an arch sad
smile with Mr.. Curran. Sometimes, I'd
r2 fhQr rnt he q h0ppAlooa e<vou D,<
I suppose people must go rafting on
in their harness and never do the
things they love. Sometimes, I get the
old longing to run off down-river with
Uncle Mich. And take you. Mr.. Cur
ran!"
hen she broke his enchantment with
her laughter. Harlan looks as II HI
thought we-all were perfectly crazy!
Well, / suppose one can't Some chap
is going to write a ley piece-;ust for
me. A real star part. I think they
cali it The Girl with the Pink Eye