The Connecticut labor press., 1919-11-15
CHAPTER XV-Continued.

not sure NCOESlcS "ACn WIS
your age l was like you in many ways,
especially in not being very cool
headed. so can't say. Youth can't be
trusted for much, except asserting
itself and fighting and making love-"
'Indeed!" George snorted. May I
ask what you think l ought to have
done?"
Nothing"
'NothingY" George echoed, mock
ing bitterly. 81 suppose you think
mean to let my mothers good name"
Your mothers good name!" Am
berson cut him Off impatiently. NO
body has a good name in bad mouth
Nobody has a good name in a silly
mouth, either. Well, your mothers
Dame was in some silly mouths, and
all you've done was to go and have
scene with the worst old woman Cos
sip in the tOwn-a scene that's going
TO make her into partisan against
your mother, whereas she was a mere
prattler before. Don't yOn suppose
she'll be all over town with this to-
morrow? And she'll see to it that
everybody who's limited anything
about poor Isabel will know that
SON O4 LhC W al p0AAAp cAO lA0b W III
put them on the defensive and make
them vicious. The story will grow as
1t spreads and"
George unfolded his arms to strike
his right fist into his left palm. But
do you suppose I'm going to tolerate
such things?" he shouted. what do
you, suppose Til be deing?"
"You can do absolutely nothing"
said Anderson. Nothing of any use
The more you do the more harm you'll
do
You'll see! I'm going to stop this
thing if I have to force my way into
every house on National avenue and
Anderson Boulevard"
His uncle laughed rather sourly but
made no other comment.
well, what do you propose to do?"
George demanded. do you propose
to sit there"
''Yes."
"-and let this riffraff handy my
mothers good name back and forth
among them2 Is that what you pro-
pose to do?''
its all I can do" Anderson re-
turned. Its all any of US can do
now: just sit still and hope that the
thing may die down in time in spite
OF your stirring up that awful old
woman"
George drew a long breath, then ad-
vanced and stood close before his
uncle. Didn't you understand me
when / told you that people are say
Ing my mother means to marry this
mann"
Yes, I understood YOU"
You say that my going over there
has made matters worse" George went
on. How about it if such a-such an
unspeakable marriage did take place?
Tso you think that would make people
believe they'd been wrong in saying
you know what they say
NO." said Anderson deliberately;
II don't believe it would. But it
wouldn't hurt Isabel and Eugene, If
they never heard Of it; and If they did
Rear of it, then they could take their
choice between placating gossip or liv-
Ing for their own happiness IL they
have decided to marry"
George almost staggered. Good
heaven ~ he gasped. "YOu speak of it
calmlyT'
Anderson looked up at him inQuir-
tngly. "Why shouldn't they marry if
they want to?' he asked. cts their
own affair. l don't see anything pre-
eisely monstrous about two people get
ding married when they're both free
and care about each other. What's
the matter with their marrying?"
TT would be monstrous !" George
shouted. "Monstrous even if this hOr-
rible thing hadn't happened, but now
IN the face of this-oh. that you can
sit there and even speak of it Your
own sister! Oh" He became inco-
sherent, swinging away from Anderson
and making for the door, wildly ges-
turing
For heavens sake don't be so the
Atrical!" said his uncle, and then, see
ing that George was leaving the room ::
"Come back here. You mustn't speak
to your mother of this!'
Don't tend to-" George said fndis-
tinctly, and he plunged into the big,
dimly lit hall. He went home and got
hat and overcoat without seeing
either his mother or Fanny. Then he
left word that he would be out for
dinner and hurried away from the
house.
He walked the dark streets Of Am
bersOn addition for an hour, then went
downtown and got coffee at a restau-
rant. After that he walked through
the lighted parts Of the town until ten
o'clock, when be turned north and
came back to the purlieus Of the Addi-
ton He walked fercely, though his
feet ached, but by and by he turned
bomeward, and, when he reached the
Majors, went in and sat upon the
steps Of the huge stone veranda In
front--an obscure figure in that lonely
and repellent place. All lights were
out at the Majors, and finally, after
twelve, he saw his mothers window
darken at home.
He waited half an hour longer, then
crossed the front yards of the new
houses and let himself noiselessly in
the front door. The light in the hall
had been left burning, and another In
his own room, as he discovered when
be got there. He locked the door
quickly and without noise, but his fin
gers were still upon the key when
there was a quick football in the hall