The Austin Statesman (Austin, Tex.), Vol. 50, No. 333, Ed. 1 Sunday, April 30, 1922 Page: 39 of 42
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COMPLETE NOVEL
1,
3
-
-
any rate. If It baa been she
has kegt
9
*
"I see you’ve nearly fluished," Drex-
ley said. "I am only in time to offer you
a savory, and I shall take the liberty of
ordering one for you, Jesson, and a creme
de menthe for Miss Strong."
"You’re very good," Douglas answered.
The order was given to the head wait-
er himself, who stood by Drexley's chair.
Drexley raised his little glass and bowed
to the girl.
"I drink your health, Miss Strong," he
it
$)
4&£9
with a certain vagueness, lingering no-
where for more than a moment or two.
Finally, he took his hat from the rack
and walked out in the street.
But as he walked slowly down, jostled
by many passers by, there came upon him
a shock so sudden and so overwhelming
that the very pavement seemed to yawn
at his feet. Toward him two women were
slowly walking, holding their own in the
stress of the crowd, one with horrified
eyes already fastened upon him, the other
as yet unconscious of his presence. Near-
er and nearer they came, and although
AUSTIN STATESMAM.COMPLETE NOVEL
a dlanlmd star 'flashing in her hair. and
ber netek ablaze with gems. She waa
dressed to make her bow presently in the
presence of royalty, her dress decollette.
Joan and her sister, Cicely.
After all, it was the woman who sought
, him who passed him by, her"unwiling
companion who recognised him at once,
in spite of his altered dress and bearing.
Taey were swallowed up in the crowd
before Douglas had recovered himself.
Something in Cicely’s terrified gaae bad
instantly checked his ..rat impulse which
prompted him to accost them. They were
gone, leaving him alike speechless and
bewildered. He staggered into a small
restaurant, and sitting at an unoccupied
table, called for a bottle of wine.
The next morning the following adver-
tisement appeared in most of the London
newspapers: O -
"To C. S. I must see you. British mus-
eum today at 6."
For three days Douglas watched in
vain. On the fourth his heart gave a
great leap. for a somber little figure step-
ped out from an omnibus at the corner
o: Russell square and stood hesitatingly
upon the pavement, looking in through
the iron bars at the museum. He came
across the street boldly—she turned
and saw him. After all the greeting
approached the conventional. He remem-
bered to raise his hat—she held out her
hand—would have withdrawn it, but
I found it already clasped in his.
? "Cicely. How good of you. You saw
$d my advertisement!"
gB "Yes.”
B "And you saw me in the Strand, but
P you would not speak to me. Was that
kd because of Joan?"
liquors. I always take a fin instead of
you away from me all this time."
There was a more personal note in
her conversation, the touch of her fingers
upon his arm was warm and firm. Think-
ing of these things, Douglas did not hear
the rustle of a skirt behind him as they
stepped out upon the pavement, The
countess saw it and kept him talking
there lightly for a moment. When at
last she let him go, and he ran upstairs,
he nearly dropped the lamp he was ear
rying in surprise. For his little roona
was empty. Cicely was gone.
CHAPTER XII.
"So you see my friend Douglas, we
must dine alone. Try to look as though
the calamity were not so great."
They were in one of the smaller
rooms; outside a round table was laid
for dinner in the palm lined conserva-
tory. Presently they sat there together;
through the glass was a dazzling view
of blue sky, starlit and clear; within, a
vista of exotics, whose perfume hung
upon the air. Champagne was served
to them in a long glass jug of Venetian
workmanship, rendered cloudy by the ice.
like frosted ware. Emily herself filled
his glass and pledged him a toast
An elderly gentleman was ushered in
to them He carried his hat with him.
and had the appearance of a man In a
hurry. He greeted Emily with courtesy,
Douglas with interest.
"Will you write me a London letter of
a thousand words three times a week for
ten pounds?" he asked abruptly. -
"I’ll try,” Douglas declared, laughing.
The elderly gentleman picked up his
hat, declined coffee vigorously, and lig
ueurs scornfully.
"Ten pounds a week,” he said; "three
months' notice either aide, and no work
of the same sort for any other country
paper. I’ll be frank with you. I shall
sell the letters out and make a profit
on ’em. A doxen newspapers’u take
them. Good night Address here.”
He laid down a card and disappeared.
Douglas looked st his companion and
laughed. I ’
SUNDAY, APRLL 30,1922
diced or not. Douglas certainiy passed
from her influence into a more robust
nd Invigorating literary life. He gave
p his expensive chambers, sold the tur:
iture, reorganised his expenses, and
i iok a single room in a dull little street
if the Strand. Rice, aided by a few
- lends, and also by Douglas' own grow
ig reputation, secured his admission into
le same bohemian club to which he and
rexley belonged. For the first time
s
themselves were no inconsiderable task,
be bad begun at last the novel, the plot
of which had for long been simmering in
his brain. He had certainly received ev
ery encouragement. Rawlinson, who had
insisted upon seeing the opening chap-
ters. had at once made him an otter for
the story, and the publishing house with
which be was connected, although of only
recent development, had already made a
name and attained a unique position.
There came no word from Emily De
Reuss, for which he was thankful, and
when he left the office at 6 o’clock on
Thursday evening, and lighting a cigaret,
strolled through a network of streets to-
ward the restaurant where he was to
meet Cicely, he had very much the feel-
ing of a schoolboy whose tasks were
laid aside and whole holiday lay before
him.
Cicely was there, already, looking won-
derfully bright and pretty, wearing a new
hat and a black and white dress, which,
after her country made mourning, seem-
ed positively smart. Douglas drew her
hand through his arm as they entered
the room, and felt a pleasant sensation
of proprietorship at her laughing sur-
render. He chose a table where they
would least likely be disturbed, and im-
periled his reputation with the smiling
waiter by ignoring the inevitable Chianti
and calling for champagne. Cicely re-
proved him for his extravagance, but
sipped her wine with the air of a con-
noisseur.
Later she grew confidential.
"Douglas," she said, “I am going to tell
you a secret.”
“If there is anything I thoroughly en-
joy after a good dinner,” he remarked,
fishing an olive out of the dish, “It is a
secret."
"You mustn’t laugh."
"I’ll be as sober as a judge,” he prom-
ised.
“You know I shall have to earn my
own living. We have really very little
money, and we must, both of us, do some-
thing. Now I have been trying to do in
earnest what I have done for my own
pleasure all my life. Do you know what
that is?” —
"I think I can guess," be answered,
smiling.
"Yes. I told you once—writing chil-
dren's fafty stories. Now I don't want
you to bother about it, but I do wish you
could give me an idea where to send
them.”
"You have some written?"
She smiled.
"I have two in that Uttle parcel there.”
He broke the string and took'one out.
It was very neatly typewritten, and a
quick glance down the page pleased him.
"•Who typed it for you?" he asked.
"Did it myself." she answered. "I
learned shorthano. you know, years ago,
and I bought a typewriter last week. I
thought if nothing else turned up, I might
earn a little that way."
"You are certainly not one of the help-
less sort of young women," he said. “Will
you let me have the stories for a few
days?”
"Will it bother you?" she asked wist-
fully.
"Well, I don't think so," he assured
her. "I won’t let it"
Drexley, a little gaunt and pale, -but
more carefully dressed than usual In eve-
ning clothes. passed .their table, looking
for a vacant seat Douglas touched his
arm.
"Sit hero. Drexley,” he said "We’re
off in a minute, and then you can have
the whole table."
Dreley thanked him and surrendered
his hat and coat to the waiter. Douglas
leaned across to Cicely.
".Cicely," he said, “let me Introduce Mr.
Drexley to you. Mr. Drexley—Miss
Strong. Mr. Drexley will probably be my
first victim on your behalf.”
Cicely blushed and looked timidly up
at the tall, bearded man, who was re-
garding her with some interest. He
smiled kindly and held out his hand.
"I am very pleased to know you. Miss
Strong.” he said. "May I asa in what
way I am to suffer on your behair""
"You have the misfortune, sir,” Doug-
las said, "to be the editor of a popular
magazine, and you are consequently
never safe from the literary aspirant. I
am one. Miss Strong is another."
"Oh, Mr. Drexley,” she exclaimed, in
some confusion, -"please don't listen to
him. I have never tried to do anything
except children's fairy stories, and I’m
sure they’re not half good enough for the
Ibex. I brought Douglas two to look at,
but I’m not sure that -they’re any good
at all. I meant to offer them to a chil-
dren’s paper."
"Nevertheless, if yon will allow me.”
Drexley said, stretching out his band. "I
will take them with me and judge for
myself. If I can use them. Miss Strong,
it will be a pleasure 1 > me to do so; if
I cannot, I may be able to make some
suggestion as to their disposal"
"It's awfully good of you, Drexley."
Douglas declared, but Drexley was bow
Ing to Cicely. All the gratitude the heart
of man could desire was in those soft
brown eyes and Bushed cheeka
—•9,
“Yes.”
"I want to talk to you," he said. •
have so much to say.”
She raised her eyes to his, and he saw
for the first time how much thinner she
gowas.
T "Douglas," she said. "there is some-
thing I must ask you first of all before
p t stay wish you for a moment. Must I
" put it into words?"
“I do not think you need. Cicely." he
answered. "I went to your father’s room
that night beyond a doubt, but I never
raised my hand against him. I should
have very hard work to prove it. I fancy,
but I am wholly innocent of his death—
innocent. that is, to say, so far as any
direct action 8f mine was concerned.”
“Ah!"
She drew a long, deep breath of relief.
Then she looked up to him with a beauti-
ful smile. ,
"Douglas," she said, "I was sure of it.
yet itis a great weight from my heart to
hear you say so. Now, can you take me
somewhere where we can talk? I am
afraid of the streets. I will tell you why
afterward.”
He called a hansom and handed her
, in. After a moment’s hesitation he gave
the address of the restaurant where he
had first met Rice.
While they lunched be learned from
Cicely bow Joan, unrelenting in her de-
sire for vengeance, had gone to Scotland
Yard with information that might at any
moment lead to his arrest.
He told briefly his story of success as
a writer, w story that pleased Cicely
mightily. It was at this little luncheon
। table that Douglas first began to realise
that he cared not a little for this sister
of Joan's. Before they parted another
I secret meeting had been planned.
CHARTER XI.
I A hard week’s work left Douglas little
I time for outside thoughts.' Besides his
k dally articles for the Courier, which in
said gravely, “and yours, Jesson. May 1
find your stories as good as I expect to.”
Cicely smiled back at him. Her face
was scarlet, for the coupling of their
names, and Drexley's quiet smile, was
significant But Douglas only laughed
gayly, as he reached for his hat, and
drew Cicely's feather boa around her
with a little air of protection.
“Good night, Drexley,” he said.
And Drexley, rising to his feet, bowed
gravely, looking into the girl's face with
a light rn his eyes which even afterward
haunted her when his name was men-
tioned—a light, half wistful, half kindly.
For several minutes after they had left,
he sat looking idly at the "bill of fare”
with the same look on his face. There
had been no such chance of salvation
tor him.
Out in the streets they paused. A the-
ater or any place of amusement was out
of the question, for Cicely dared not stay
out later than 9:3u. Then a luminous
idea came to Douglas.
"Why on earth shouldn't you come to
my rooms?” he asked. "I can give you
some decent coffee and read you the
first chapter of my novel."
She hesitated, but barely for a mo-
ment.
"It sounds delightful," she admitted.
"I’ll come.”
He beckoned a hansom, handed her
in, and somehow forgot to release her
hand. The wheels were rubber tired and
the springs easy. They glided into the
sea of traffic with scarcely a sense of
movement.
"Life," he said, "is full of new sensa-
tions,” holding her fingers a little tighter.
“It is our extreme youtn," sbe murmur-
ed, gently but firmly withdrawing them.
"In a year’s time all this will seem crude
to you."
“In a year’s time,” he answered, look-
ing down at her suddenly, thoughtful, "I
will remind you of that speech.”
She sighed, but her gravity was only
for a moment. She was chattering again
gayly by the time they reached the street
where Douglas’ rooms were. He led her
up the stairs, Ill carpeted and narrow.
His room had never seemed so small
and shabby as when at last they reached
it and he threw the door open.
“Cissy," he said, "do you know, this is
what we always talked of, that I should
write a story and read it first to you?
Do you remember?”
“Yes," she answered softly, “I remem-
ber.”
He took some loose pages up in his
hand. She looked over his shoulder.
"You haven’t improved a bit in your
writing," she exclaimed. “Do let me type
it for you.”
"You shall, with pleasure,” be answer-
ed. "I believe you’re the only person
who could read it.”
"Please light a cigarette," she begged.
"I oaths the taste, but the perfume is de-
lightful.”
He obeyed her, and she arranged the
lamp so that the light fell upon the
sheets which be had gathered up into
his hand. Then she leaned back in her
chair and listened. ‘
"Wellr"
She sat up and faced him. her face
flushed with excitement, her eyes flash-
ing soft fires.
"There is nothing I can say beyond
this," she cried: "It is the sort of book
which I always hoped and believed that
one day you would write. I am only
afraid of one thing. When it is finished
and published you will be a great man.
You will be so far off. I think I wish
it were not quite so clever. It makes me
feel lonely."
He came over and sat upon the arm of
her chair. She was very sweet, very
dainty, very pretty. •
•’Cissy,” he said. "you need never be
afraid of that. Whatever might happen in
the future, I shall never enjoy an eve-
ning more than this one. It rests with
you to say whether we may not have
many more."
“With me™
She looked up at him quickly. From
where he sat he could see her bosom
rising and falling quickly. Then he
started suddenly away—Cicely sat up In
terror, grasping the sides of her chair.
There was a sharp knock at the closed
door.
"Is Mr. Jesson in?" a toft volce asked.
"Who Is It?" Douglas cried in blank
amazement. ’
The door opend, and a woman, in a
long opera cloak and rustling skirt gath-
ered up in ber bands, glided in. It was
the Countess De Reuss.
She stood in a Htue halo of lamplight,
her figure supetb. Cicely looked at her
and gasped Douglas was speechless. She
herself maintained a magnificent com*
posure, although she had, as a matte*
of fact, received a shock.
"I admit, my friend,” she said, hadina
out her hand to Douglas, "that my vist
is unusual, but I can assure you that I
am not a ghost. Try my fingers, they
are very real."
Douglas recovered himself and drew a
long breath.
"I am very glad to see you," he said,
"but if I had had any idea that you really
wished to see me I would have spared
you the trouble of coming to such aa
outlandish place.”
"Oh, I can assure you that I have rath-
er enjoyed it," she answered him. "My
coachman believes that I am mad, and
my maid is sure of it. Won’t you mtro
duce me to your friend—your sister, pep
haps?"
Douglas preserved his composure.
"This is-my cousin, Cicely Strong," be
said, "the Countess De Reuss. The Count-
ess De Reuss was very kind to me. Cicely
when I was lib I think I told you about
her."
Cicely was timid and nervous, nor did
she at all understand the situation.
The countess nodded to her kindly.
"You have a very clever relation," she
said. "We are all expecting great things
from him. Now let me tell you, Douglas,
why I have come. There are two men
coming to see you tomorrow whom yon
positively must meet. One is Mr. Ander-
son, who owns the great Provincial Syn-
dicate of Newspapers, and pays enormous
prices for letters from London, the other
is an American. I've asked them pur-
posely for you, and you see I’ve taken
some pains to make sure of your com-
ing.”
“It is very good of you,” Douglas re-
plied. "I will come, of course, with pleas-
ure."
"At 8 o’clock,” she said, gathering up
her skirts into her hand. "Now, good-by,
young people."
She nodded pleasantly and turned
away. Douglas took the lamp and hur-
ried to the door.
"You will let me see you to your car-
riage,” he said. "Cissy, I shall only be n
moment. Do you mind the darkness?"
She answered him blithely. The count-
ess laid her delicate fingers upon his arm.
and held up her skirts till he could see
her shapely feet with diamond buckle*
carefully feeling for each stair.
"My friend," she exclaimed, “what 01
taste you have shown. You are abomin-
ably lodged."
"I am not a chooser,” he answereda
“but at least here I can pay my way.”
“And the little cousin?” sbe said, look
ing at him sideways.
“She is the dearest littie girl in the
world," he answered heartily.
"I am not sure that I approve of her.
though," the countess said gayly, “not, at
bouglas began to meet those who were,
—- itrictly speaking, his fellows, and the
vondertul good comradeship of his newly
idopted profession was a thing gradually
evealed to him. He made many friends,
tudied hard, and did some brilliant work.
Ie abandoned, upon calmer reflection,
he idea of going abroad, and was given
to understand that his position on the
~ACourler might be regarded as a perma-
jnency.
One night Douglas wandered restlessly
trom room to room of the club, return-
ing the greetings of his acquaintances
every impulse of his body bade him fly,
his limbs were rigid and every muscle
seemed frozen. For the women were
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The Austin Statesman (Austin, Tex.), Vol. 50, No. 333, Ed. 1 Sunday, April 30, 1922, newspaper, April 30, 1922; Austin, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1457104/m1/39/?rotate=270: accessed June 27, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; .