The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1918-06-28

1 see. Well, you've forgot one thing,
guess. If there's nothin' in marriage
but business, then an engagement is
what 1 just called it, business con-
tract, and it can't be broke without the
consent of both sides. You wanted
Caroline's money; maybe she wants
yours now. If she does, and there's
such a thing as law, why, perhaps she
can get it,
That's the talkr' cried Stephen ex-
ultingly.
"Stop!" Caroline cried wildly. "Oh,
stop! Do you think-do you suppose l
would marry him now-now, after
I've seen what he is? Oh with a
shudder of disgust, when think what
| might have done L Thank God that
the money has gone! I'm glad I'm
poor! I'm glad! l never want to see
him or think of him again. Please,
please let me go! Oh, take me home!
Captain Warren, please let me go
home"
Her uncle was at her side in mo-
ment. "Yes, yes, dearie.' he said, iii
take you home. Don't give way now!
ZIP
He would have taken her arm, but
she shrank from him.
mot you," she begged. "Steve!'
The captains face clouded, but h.
answered promptly.
"Of course-Steve," he agreed.
"Steve, take your sister home. Mr..
Sylvester's got a carriage waitin', and
he'll go with you, don't doubt. Do as
1 tell you, boy-and behave yourself.
Don't wait; go!'
He held the door open until the hys-
terical girl and her brother had de-
parted. Then he turned to the Dunns.
"Well, ma'am," he said dryly, Il
don't knows there's anything more to
be said. All the questions seem to be
settled. Our acquaintance want so
awful long, but it was interestin'.
KNOWN you has been, as the feller
said, liberal education. Don't let me
keep you any longer. Good afternoon"
Then Mrs. Dunn bethought herself
of way to make their exit less awk-
ward and embarrassing.
with a clutch at her breast. my poor
heart! II fear I'm going to have one
of my attacks. Malcolm, your arm
quick
With an expression Of intense but
patient suffering and leaning heavily
upon her sons arm she moved past
Captain Elisha and from the room.
That evening the captain stood in the
lower hall Of the apartment house at
Central Park West undecided what to
do next. He wished more than any
thing else in the world to go to his
niece. He would have gone to her be-
fore-had been dying to go to soothe,
to comfort, to tell her Of his love-but
he was afraid. His conscience trou-
bled him. Perhaps he had been too
brutal.
The elevator descended, the door of
the cage opened, and Stephen himself
darted out. The captain caught him
as he passed.
Here, boyw he exclaimed. "Where's
the fire? Where are you bound?"
His nephew, brought thus unexpect-
edly to halt, stared at him.
"Oh, its you" he exclaimed.
"Humph! I'm bound-I don't know
where I'm bound. I'm going to the
club, l guess, or somewhere. Anyhow
1 won't stay with her. 1 told her so.
Silly little idiot! I'll never speak to her
again. l told her so. She
Here. Belay! Stop! Who are you
talking about?"
"Caro, of course. She
you've run off and left her alone
tonight? Where is she?'
"Upstairs-and crying, l suppose.
She doesn't do anything else. It's all
she's good for. Selfish, romantic"-
He got no further, for Captain Elisha
sent him reeling with push and ran
to the elevator.
Eighth floor" he commanded.
The door of the apartment was not
latched. Stephen, in his rage and