The Birmingham age-herald., 1920-03-28
CHAPTER XVIII.

that Lucille was glad.
 h. her own queer way. however. she Hadn't any great faith in doctors.
 She decided to stay here in the studio and win this ease through herself.
 'Ill look after her myself" she as- sured the doctor; I'm not an amateur I've had some nursing experience osli in Africa
 He had looked little dubious, but ' finally had give min. And Lucille, taking the reins of man. 2 agement in her own capable fingers, had installed herself in the pretty Chelsea studio as Shiriey's nurse
 Shirley was rambling in dull mono- tone. tossing on a little cot in Vivian s room. She was breathing heavily.
 But there was hope in Lucille's eyes T don't really believe she's. got pneur monia-yetl That doctor waS oo pessi- mistic. If I work hard, maybe I'll fight 1t offr'
 Lucille prepared a hot poultice. She worked away with dexterous fingers. She was in her element in sick room.
 Within an hour Shirley was conscious. and the pain considerably relieved.
 tfeeiing betterfi dearie? It's I, Lucille
 
 beside you anG look after you"
 From the mists in which her brain had been wandering, Shirley saw Lucille, immensely kind and capable, working about her.
 And pretty soon she drifted off into a heavy sleep.
 Lucille sat beside the bed and mentally planned out her campaign.
 She's been living at too high a pitch too much work and not enough attention to proper meals." She couched Shirley s ; pretty, curly hair with a kindly hand. Well, we've got to change all that! It s time she was being looked 1after-moth- cred a bit
 The money question here arose Shir- ley would need all sorts of nourishment. Food was so expensive-even ordinary fare, apart from luxuries. How, then, was she--IuciIle-to buy the luxuries Shirley needed?
 And David Burke had gone to France. Lucille could not communicate with him for at least three days, perhaps not for & week. His movements were indefinite. What an idiot 1 was to refuse the money he offered mel Although she had promised to become Burke's wife, Lu- cilie couldn't bring herself to accept pre- matrimonial gifts of money for her own use from him. She had too much pride. She had lowered her pride on behalf of her late down-and-out husband, 1t W ferent matter. She didn't want help for herself
 Burke had remonstrated with her. Lu- ellie, however, had been firm.
 We aren't married yet. Till then 1 must at least try to be independently She had laughed his offers off. Yet there was a measure of relief in the knowledge that Lucille was going back to Surrey and would be well looked after there. Burke cared for Lucille very truly-perhaps more deeply than he had-eyer cared for Shirley Marsh.
 Lucille was the type of woman that was really suited to him. She had had her day--too much of it, perhaps. Her chief ambition now was to settle down in quiet and comfort, away from the racket of the town, to become the very ' able chatelaine of Burkes handsome j home, and at the same time grow to Y be very able helpmeet to the man him. eeff. sfssss s{s, She wanted no more storms-nor riot ous living. Surrey bachwater-the peace and security to Lucille veritabis heaven on earth.
 But now the money question was per- picking her-not for herself, but on be- half of Shirley Marsh!
 sT want her to make complete re- covery, and to be just as hapy as I'm going to be myself!
 Shirley cared for Daltoa- And Dalton's
 
 he must be notified at once. He would be beside himself with anxiety over Shir- ley's illness.
 Lucille tiptoed softly from the room. de- seconded flight of stairs, and tapped in- uuringly at Dalton's door.
 No answer. He must be ous.
 She climbed the stairs again to Shir- Ieys studio. The young girl was still sleeping. The doctor was due to arrive again in half an hour. And Lucille sat by the bedside waiting.
 It was raining heavily outside, and a kind of premature dusk had settled on the room The only sound was Shirley s rather painful breathing.
 A NEW LUCILLE.
 Like a set of moving pictures, the in- cidents of Lucilles life seemed to pass in turn before her mind. There had been \ Sir1d of queer excitement in them that had never really spelt happiness Until Luite lately she had never known the < yhneaning of the word. sfhe had sen-deliberately-a worth Tess husband, giving way to foolish. wrong infatuation-
 And she had reaped as she had sown. She had sunk down under the blows that fate had given her instead of facins her mistakes.
 she had drifted toward the stage as the easiest way in which to make living, following the path or iedst fesistdhSe, which invariably leads to the land of least reward!
 Here, too, She had reaped as she had spwn. For Lucille wasn't fitted for the staxe. She had achieved no definite suc- cess-had barely managed to make a uvfrg by it.
 And always she had given way to self vxtv-that old and ever popular device fnr gaining sympathy that sooner or later t.,res the very kindest friends and that venders us unpopular.
 seated here reflectively, with nothing tp interrupt her mood, Lucille investi- rated the psychology of the past ten Vaars She was not lacking in brains, though hifherto-on the usual policy or her life-she had avoided using them She had avoided anything that hao sn- piled real effort
 There are thousands of women-yes ana men too--like Lucille. Idle drifters along tbe 5ath of least resistance, who perpet- ua1lv "pitch hard luck tale" According to their story. fate has been ever and t always their enemy. But, truthfuliy, their gfeatest foe has invarapiy been themselves.
 Her lift stretched out before her, rnelanchoiy example of the might-nave- been. For Lucille has been born with va rious gifts of the gods, inciudlne beauty, health, good brains, an attractVe personality and she had wasted all these gifts.
 YThe years that the locust has easen. she said aloud. but softly, so that shirley might not wake