The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1914-02-15
MYSTERIOUS MARTHA
sy CATHERINE coOPER.

on the carved door OF the mihev TIE"
dence on the upper east side.
Miss KILLER Is not In. SIR. said
Binks. the butler. who had swung open
the door.
II will walt" said Grayson. and would
have suited the action to the word.
"Ahem!-A-Miss Miller said she would
probably be gone six weeks." the butler
informed Grayson. His features ex-
pressed q deep disapprovaI OF the Grant
nature of his young mistress. Again,
she said she might return tomorrow.
II Will not wait" laughed Grayson,
and returned TO the coy seat In his
limousine.
Despite his effort not to feel irritated
over Martha Miller's absence he found
himself decidedly so. This was the third
time during his acquaintance with her
that Martha had gone OF suddenly on
some mysterious trip. leaving no adj
dress and no knowledge of her where
abouts.
The set in which Martha disported her
beauty and charm. discussed these trips
with open and sometimes none too friend
~ manner. Ugly rumors found Judgement
In one or two of the feminine gossips
tales. The men pondered. missed Mar
tha's dainty beauty and ready wit. and
! ceased to worry until she again quick
ened their heart beats with her return.
The day Grayson called upon Martha
he had almost decided to propose to
her. He had known himself to be deeply
In love with her for some time. yet he
feared his own vagabond moods that
came upon him as suddenly as the fall
Ing Of star. He loathed society. and
stood IL only for the sake OF his mother,
who gave teas galore. Yet Grayson was
conventional to the extent that no one
suspected his inner revolt. Martha. too,
had helped TO make society agreeable.
and for her sake he permitted himself
to be bored by the hour attending the
opera, teas, and dinners.
Il cannot stand for them without
her. however" he told himself as his
car whirled away from her door.
The outcome was that Grayson had
his suit case packed hurrIedly and
started on on one of his vagabond
pilgrimsges. His sleeping bag and ola
khaki suit had been surreptitiuusly
struggled in the case when links. his
valet, had for the moment turned his
back.
II was a most disreputable but happy
Bob Grayson who chugged along the
Long Island roads on his still mort
disreputable motorcycle. Not even
links would have known that the man
was his master.
However. Grayson was happy. con-
tented and hungry as he neared the
bit OF woods OH the Sound that had
often sheltered him overnight lie
would make a fire. broil bacon. and
make coffee in tin can, and later
roll himself up in his sleeping tent and
sleep the sleep OF the carefree. In the
morning he would be on his way to
another and more remote abiding place.
In the meantime. Martha Millar was
as free. contented. and happy as the
man who would perhaps have proposed
TO her had she not escaped his call.
In a tiny. whitewashed cottage. with
not more than three still smaller
rooms, she was cooking a yavory stew
over a coal fire. Her wonderful golden
hair was hanging in a braid down the
back OF a faded blue gingram dress.
and she was humming a little snatch
! of some street song.
But in the tiny patch Of garden an
/ old man fingered over his bright hued
| flowers. He was the owner OF the cot
| tage and gardener in the Miller family.
Martha tripped lightly cut to the
wooden pump and drew a pail Of fresh
spring water, On her way back to the
cottage she stopped to speak to the
old man.
David. couldn't possibly live IL
YOU didn't let me come down here and
! share your dear little house. already
feel like n child of six who has stepped
| into fairyland. I have written ten
successful stories. for which you are
| to have the checks. and now I am go
| ing to write a novel. with you as the
hero" Martha laughed gaily and car
| ricd her bucket into the little white
| washed kitchen.
| great black cat was purring be
side the stove. and a canary hung In
the sunny window. On a wide deal
table lay manuscripts in joyful dis
order. and a small typewriter. tea
pot and a heavy china cup gave evil
dencc that Martha drank tea during
moments of inspiration.
The savory stew on the stove was
permeatinx the air.
i The man who had approached the
cottage shifted II hunGrily and knocked
a third time on the door.
Martha clicked busily at her type
writer and heard nothing save the voice
OF inspiration.
She arose swiftly to her feet. sec
ond later. staring with wide eyes at the
man who had intruded himself upon her
.Bobby Graysonr' she gasped. You
tdisreputable tramp.
Martha Miller" returned Bobby won
d.ringly. you ragged besgar maid his
4 curiosity then broke bounds and he
poured forth a volley of questions.
! Martha laughed in spite OF her wrath
al having been discovered
1T Is just simply that ! detest pink
yellow and green teas. morning m"'
sicales and society in general ! ny Il
this haven of refuse when ] cannot stand
IL to be decent to people another ma
ment" Her voice trcmbled. These al"
the only really happy hours | have
In my whole life
>aThe only ones-Martha% questioned
IGrayson looking into her eyes. Il have
been hoping lately that you were not I'M
happy-at times" He drew a step nearer
her.
A brilliant color sufrused Martha
cheeks. She cast heeting glimpse al
him.
looking tramp. Have you lost your mind
or merely your money! she questioned
with a swift smile.
Neither. l am only on one OF my
semi-annuaI trips into the land Of vaga
bonds 1t is the joy OF my life-this get.
ting down to nature, and l was hall
afraid to tell you I love you. for YOU
seemed SO terribly conventional
Il did not want to seem eccentric, adj
mitted Martha. That was my reason
} for concealing MY
"Dreams?' suggested Grayson softly
well, such dreams as you have ap'
parently been having are worth conceal
ing from a curious public. His eye:
roamed about the cozy, humble abod'
then returned to the girl. Il would moi
, rob you of single hour OF this-h ypt