Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1917-04-25
THE
HONEYMOON
HOUSE
BY HAZEL DALE
BY Hazel Dale


Jarvis had done more than he
knew that night when he had spoken
10 Karen Mikal in the street and
asked her to pose for him. Karen up
TO that time had kept a tight rein
on herself, and, forced to work in
close contact with girls far below her
In every way, she had endured in si-
lence, forgetting that her youth was
! battling for expression. Janet had
| opened to Karen q new path of life.
Janet was the finest type of American
] girlhood, her ideals were the ideals
that make for progress.
For any girl to meet and know
| Janet was an education; then what
must her friendship have meant to
half-starved Karen Mikal, with her
passionate love of beauty and her
adherence of the life she led?
Karen's father had been a man of
| culture, her mother she had never
known at all. But after her fathers
death she had scraped together
enough money to come to America
with two other girls who were join
| ing friends. And, once in New York,
| she had been forced to accept any
means of livelihood to keep body
and soul together. Her companions
were coarser types; they lacked her
tineness and her really marvellous
beauty.
That very beauty had been a
source of keen anguish to the girl,
for it had brought her unwelcome
attentions and continual fear. Fear
was what had sprung to her heart
the night Jarvis had spoken to her,
but something about him had invit-
ed her trust, and when he had taken
her to Janet. Karen had known her
first bit of happiness since she had
come to the city.
No one, not even Janet knew
what Karen Mikal might become,
given the means for finding herself.
Even Janet knew that there were
depths about the girl hitherto un-
sounded and feelings that an average
woman was not capable of feeling.
Things at present were this way with
Karen. She had been plunged into
the interest and excitement of the
Honeymoon House. She had been
made a personal friend of Janet's,
even more, Janet and Jarvis had
taken her under their wing and had
been the first to encourage her and
tell her that they thought she had
| talent.
Miss Alden's failure to show in
terest had hurt the girl, but only
temporarily. Her life had changed
too much in the past few months to
permit of the horrible despair that
used to clutch at her heart, and now,
there was Dick Armstrong.
Dick Armstrong. the artist had
| been struck with Karen's loveliness.
He longed to put her on canvas, he
thought in second of q hundref
ways that he might make her beauty
stand out. The portrait Jarvis had
| done of her was a continual eyesore
| to Dick He wanted to paint Karen
himself, and her refusal to pose for
him had astounded him.
Karen was poor, her clothes were
shabby, and Dick knew that she
needed the money. He had put his
request for q series of sittings blunt
Iy, as ne always did everything. His
code of life did not permit of pam
| dering to women who had to be paid
for doing things. Up to that time
Dick had not analyzed his feelings,
but the thrill of interest he had felt
when the girl had so plainly told
her that she was not a professional
model, made him realize for the first
time that here was a wo nan who,
with nothing behind her in the way
of money or influence, had thrown
his offer of work in his face.
Something primitive sprang to the
fore when he had met her cold eyes
evenly, something that he instantly
laughed to scorn and throttled be-
fore it had time to make an impress
sion.
Janet had told Karen something
of Dicks reputation as man, and
Karen herself had observed a great
deal, for she had met Dick time and
again in the Honeymoon House, and
at Keats Barnard's studio. Dicks at
|
huge blond head and almost perfect
features had given him an easy rein
with women, and hs boasted even be-
fore women whom he wished to i'm
prosS with his power.
Women were curiosities to him,
and Janet and he had been at
swords points for a long time, be-
cause Dick had refused to take her
swords points for q long time, be-
cause Dick had refused to take her
work seriously. Dick had taught
Keats Barnard all that she knew
about pastel drawing, and Keats had
forged her way ahead until she made
more than Dick at his own game.
Dick painted when he needed the
money, and his lack of ideals had
robbed his pictures of atmosphere.
He knew this fact as well, but laugh
ed at it's possibility of frightening
him.
Karen's quick love of beauty had
thrilled her when she had met Dick
for the first time. A certain lawless-
ness about him had awakened a re-
sponse in her that made her afraid
of him. Naturally reticent, she had
never mentioned liking him one way
or the other until the day she had
received his curt note, which she
longed to ignore even while she
wanted to accept his invitation. Kar-
ems soul was starved for a little
pleasure. and the prospect of cos
tune ball and a possible meeting
with Dicks brother, who was .
playwright, was even more entic-
ing.
Karen wondered if she and Dick
Armstrong could ever be friends. She
little dreamed of anything else be-
tween them. At present she was only
afraid. Afraid of the way he looked
at her, and of the fact that she
wanted okno whim even while she
coldly held him at arms length.
ITO Be Continued.)