Free trader-journal. (Ottawa, Ill.) 1916-1920, 1917-09-26

my hands altogether, now. I'm sorry,
but being sorry doesn't make any DIFF
ference. I'm the least factor, it seems,
in the whole middle A woman isn't
much more than an incident In mans
life. after ALL
She dressed to go to the Charters,
for her days work was about to begin.
Az so often happens In life's uneasy
flow, periods Of Gains are succeeded
by events in close sequence. Howard
and his wife insisted that Stella Join
them ut supper after the show. They
We're decent folk who accorded frank
admiration to her voice and her per-
sonality. They had been kind to her
In many little ways, and she was glad
TO accept
At II a taxi deposited them at the
door Of Wain's. The Seattle of yester-
day needs no introduction to Wain's,
and its counterpart can be found in
any cosmopolitan seaport city. 1t is a
place Of subtle distinction, tucked
away on one Of the lower hill streets
where after theater parties and night
hawks with an eye for pretty women,
an ear for sensuous music and taste
for good food go when they have mon
ey to spend.
EnscOnced behind q pOtted palm,
with a waiter taking Towards order
Stella let her gaze travel over the din
ers. She brought up with repressed
start at table but four removes from
her own, her eyes resting upon the I'M
mistakable profile of Walter Monohan
He was dining vis-a-vis with Il young
woman chiefly remarkable for pro-
fusion of yellow hair and blazing
diamond In the lobe Of each cara
plump. blond, vivacious person of
type that Stella, even with her limited
experience, found herself instantly
classifying.
A bottle Of wine rested in an iced
dish between them. Monohan was
toying with the stem of half emptied
glass, smiling at his companion. The
girl leaned toward him, speaking rap
idly, pouting. Monohan nodded, drain
ed his glass, signaled a waiter. When
she got into an elaborate opera cloak
and Monohan into his Inverness they
went out, the plump, jeweled hand
resting Familiarity on Monohan's arm.
Stella breathed sigh of relief as they
passed, looking straight ahead. She
watched through the upper half of the
cafe window and saw a machine draw
against the curb, saw the bescarfed
yellow head enter and Monohan's silk
hat follow. Then she relaxed. but she
had little appetite for her food. A hot
wave of shamed disgust kept coming
over her. She felt sick. physically re-
VOTED. Very likely Monohan had put
her in that class in his secret thought.
She was g1ad when the evenjIA ended
aud the Towards left her ut Aer own
doorstep.
On the carpet where it had beM
thrust 10y the postman under the door,
white square caught her eve. and
she picked it up before she switched
on the light And she got n queer lit.
lie shock when the light fell on the
envelope. for It was addressed IN Jack
Fyfe's angular handwriting
She tore it open. 1t was little enough
in the way Of letter. n coupe Of lines
scrawled across Il sheet Of note paper
Dear Girl was In Seattle few days
ago and heard you sing. Here's hoping
good luck rides with you. JACK.
Stella sat down by the window Out
side the ever present Puget sound rain
drove against wall and roof aud side
walk, gathered in wet, gllstening pools
in the street. Through that same win.
dow she had watched Jack Fyfe walk
out Of her life three months ago with
out backward look, sturdily, silently.
accomplishing He hadn't whined; he
wasn't whining now, only flinging
cheerful word out Of the blank spaces
of his own life into the blank spaces
and wet steal down her cheeks.
She crumpled the letter with a sud
den, spasmodic clinchlng Of her hand
A lump rose chokingly In her throat.
She stabbed at the light switch and
threw herself on the bed, sobbing her
hearts cry In the dusky quiet. Aud
she could not have told why, except
that she had been overcome by mis-.
eraDly forlorn feeling. All the mental
props she relied upon were knocked
out from under her. Somehow those
few scrawled words had flung swiftly
before, like picture on screen, a
vision of her baby toddling uncertain.
~ across the porch Of the white bunga.
low. And she could not bear to think
Of that.
When the elm before her window
broke into leaf and the sodden winter
skies were transformed into warm
spring vista of blue Stella was singing
a special engagement in local vaude.
vile house that boosted big time"
BILL She had stepped up. The sllvery
richness of her voice had carried her
name already beyond local boundaries
as the singing master under whom she
studied prophesied 1t would. In proof
thereof she received during April a