The gazette-times. [volume] (Heppner, Or.) 1912-1925, 1914-09-17
Just In Time
For the Duke
Prompt Action Made Him
Lose the Prize.
BY BARRY PRESTON.


him, dear, aren't your Mrs. Brevort
inquired, not without certain doubt
full note in her tone, which seemed to
hint that such possibly might not be
the case.
The girl who stood by the window,
looking out at the uneven pavements
of the Roman street, turned slowly
and smiled. In that smile were weari-
ness and subtle understanding and pa
uent resignation.
"fes, l am very much in love with
him, Aunt Elinor,' she said in color
less voice. as If she We're saying the
words more because they We're expect
ed Of her than for any other reason.
Mrs. Brevort smiled her open ap-
proval. The little frown Of doubt
which for the past few moments had
wrinkled her brow suddenly disappear
cd. She crossed the room to the girls
side aud threw an arm about her.
"Of course, dearie," she cooed, "your
happiness is my first, l might almost
say my only, concern. No one realizes
better than | the portent of this step
that all your future, all your lifelong
happiness, depends upon it. No one, l
think you'll admit, too, is more averse
to the majority of these marriages than
| am. but the duke Is so utterly differ.
ent from all the other eligible men we
have met. He Is not seeking your
money, dear, for he is immensely
wealthy in his own right He is an
upright, honest, splendid type of an
more like our own men in America. I
think, than any one we have seen.
Isn't that your impression of himY
"Yes," said the girl in the same col.
orless voice.
Mrs. Brevort's pale face grew rather
eager. Somehow have felt from the
first that your destinies were linked,
yours and hls," said she, "but when he
talked with me this afternoon l gave
him no definite answer l let him un-
derstand that the matter rested prl-
marily with you; that it was your hap
piness that was ut stake.
HE didn't seem quite to understand
my attitude at first, but he was per-
fectly charming about it, as he Is in
everything. He said was to speak to
you'Lnd that he would call for me this
afternoon at in the road car, and
while we went out to the aqueduct l
could give him my final decision, or,
rather, yours"
The girl had turned again to the win
dow. She was looking abstractedly at
the passing crowd in the street below.
Her brow was furrowed by little
disfguring frown. Her lips were set
tightly together. Her eyes We're trou-
bled
$50 suppose am to give him ia.
vorable answer, am not?" Mrs. Bre-
wort suggested tentatively.
The girl was silent. The troubled
look in her eyes grew more pronounc-
ed. Her aunt watched her narrowly
and with growing impatience.
Peggy, dear, l asked you ques
tion," she reminded her niece. SIS 1t a
favorable answer l am to give|'
The girl shrugged her dainty shoul
ders. Eyes, yes; OH yes" she said hur
riedly. at doesn't matter" Her voice
suddenly choked. Nothing mattersr
Mrs. Brevort elevated her brows
Really, Peggy she began chidingly
But the girl turned swiftly and left the
room, waving back the older woman
who started to follow her. Something
like a smothered sob sounded as the
door closed behind her.
Mrs. Breyort looked rather angry for
moment Then she recovered her
usual composure and smiled. But there
was something distinctly unpleasant in
that smile.
She glanced at-the bronze clock tick
ing unobtrusvely on the mantel. 1t
pointed to half after 3. She went to a
desk near the front window and from
a drawer drew out a bundle Of letters
They were all directed in the same
hand-Peggys hand. And they were
all addressed to Mr.. William Hale, at
some outlandish Spanish sounding
town in Ecuador, South America.
Mrs. Breyort smiled again. 1t had
cost her pretty penny to circumvent
the mailing of those letters, but there
are many itching palms in Rome, and
what good money will not accomplish,
if it is judiciously placed, is not worth
accomplishing.
An open fire burned duly in the
CRATE beneath the mantel. Mrs. Bre-
wort stepped briskly over to it and fed
the bundle of letters to the flames
She watched grimly until there was
nothing left Of them save Il few gray
white ashes
Then from another drawer she took
out another bundle Of letters. They
were thick letters, all of them. The
sprawling superscriptions were all for
Peggy, and they were postmarked with
the name Of the Spanish town in Ecua
dor.
Other itching Roman palms had been
soothed in the conventional way to
bring those epistles into Mrs. Brevort's
possession.
These, too she consigned to th'
CRATE, watched them burn and ther