The Washington herald., 1922-03-18
Co~tiausS from Yesterday.

Jeanne opened her eyes with q
start the following morning.
Sunlight was pouring across her
bed. and as she blinked in its soft
warmth. she stared around be-
wilderedly at her unfamiliar sur
roundings.
1t had been midnight before Vic
Barstowe had brought her to this
new. little home, but in spite of her
weariness, her heartache and her
sense of the futility of il all, the
normal woman in her had reacted
to its every exquisite detail.
Once she had thought that the
only life was life lived in expensive
hotel apartments. Later she had
come to want 4 home on the avenue.
and still later the palatial Barstowe
country place had filled the measure
of her ambition.
But from the moment she had
stepped over the threshold of this
modest. quaint little house she knew
why she had failed in accomplishing
the empty dream which she had
called her great ambition
II was because she had tried to
assume a role that was not hers.
She had tried to manufacture a line
Of ancestry born to the purple.
when in reality the blood in her
veins came from honest, god-fear-
ing industrious stock that forms the
backbone OF civilization.
The luxury-loving strain in her
was cultivated. not inborn There
was no taint of decadence in her:
only good sterling crude American
ism. She had been meant to mary
and live normally and enjoy the
wholesome simple things of life, as
her forbears had done. Somewhere
a microbe of discomfort had crept
in and done its deadly work.
This little home was her proper
sphere. But. she told herself, she
had found it too late.
1t was only a question now OF a
few days, perhaps a few hours be-
fore Vic would know how she had
sold he= jewels; how she owed all
the tranespeople in town; how she
had faxed a lineage. and how she
had schemed and tricked and lied
in a futile effort to keep going
from day to day.
Selby North would come back
from the West and tell who she
really was-iittle nondescript Jane
Dare. a village school teacher, who
played a silly role in the center of
makebelieve stage for a little
while.
All these things she knew Vic
could never forgive. 1t was under
stsndable that he should take he-
part in the matter OF Vera Day
toms insinuations; that he should
declare his wife above reproach.
But it was another matter when
actual proofs of her fraud were put
before him.
A Taste of Fortune.
So. though she awoke in one OF
the oId-fashioned guest chambers OF
her dreams. bathed in sunlight
which held a hint of the warmth
OF spring. there was no joy in her
awakening.
She closed her eyes again and
wisheds that she might have died
quietly there during the dark hours
of the night.
\ sharp rap on the door brought
her sitting upright in the bed.
'Yes?" she called.
Vic answered: May l come imp
She called back an assent, draw
ing a blanket up over her bare
shoulders.
say ne CEleQ eAGlleulN as lie
flung open the door. Il have Just
had a message from home. They've
been robbed-cleaned out"'
The blanket slipped from Jeanne's
shoulders. Her hands went fut-
, tsring to her heart and it leapeL
high with hope.
Robbed" she gasped. What
how"
Burglars got into the library
last night They took everything
IN the place. . And my darling
I hate to tell you, when you've al
ready had so much trouble, that
they got your pearls. Ny God
Jeanne. don't take j. that way"
For Jeanne had sunk back in her
pillows and was shaking with what
he mistook for sohs.
Her pearls,
The paste necklace that she had
got in exchange for her real Jewels
Was such good fortune possible?
When he had assured himself that
Jeanne had recovered from the shock
Of learning of the loss Of her jewels.
Barstowe hurried over to his family
home.