Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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Banwtll, & C. ml i 'A V WITH BANNERS t? / CHAPTER XVI ‘‘We’ll finish our talk tomorrow.” A month had passed since Mark Trent had flung those words as her, since she had left Lookout House. They had echoed to the accompani ment of the whir of the wings of the great plane in which she had flown south at the urgency and the expense of Carston’s Inc.; they had intruded in business hours; they had flitted like wraiths through her dreams. The days slid past breathlessly. She was conscious of a sort of breathless urge to keep up with something which was escaping her. Keep up with what, she asked herself, as in the flower scented dressing room of Carston’s, Inc. she slipped out of the green organza ■umber she had been modeling and into a frock of cool yellow linen. She was looking out unseeingly at the palm bordered white street when Madame Celeste entered. Her thin white frock rested Brooke’s eyes after the rainbow collection she had put on and off for the last two hours. “You done noble, cherie,” the woman approved heartily. There was something in her nasal twang as refreshing as a breeze from a thousand New England hills. “That last customer is one of the richest girls in the country. She ordered all the gowns you modeled. You look kind of tired, you’ve a right to, cherie, after landing that whale of an order. Get some lunch here, go home and rest until four, then come back. You will dress here, the society models will dress at the Shaw’s sports house. Sidone will be there to help them. You’ll be the only professional mannequin, but I wouldn't trust an amateur to show that wedding gown. The char ity fete begins at five. The wed ding party will be the last feature of the style show. Look your best We expect that some prospective bride v/iD snap up the whole outfit when she sees you walk up the ribbon and flower bordered aisle in that heav enly white satin veiled in a mist of tune. You’U make a ravishing bride, cherie; it wiU be your last appearance, so knock their eyes out” The words "last appearance” pen etrated the turmoil in Brooke’s mind. “Last appearance! What do you mean?” Madame Celeste twisted her am ethyst beads. “Cherie, don’t go white on me. You know business hasn’t been too good, and I have my orders. After the fashion show Fm to hand you a check for your commissions and a month’s pay end you’re through.” "But—but I thought I had sold a let at frocks since I came." "You have, and you can search bm for the boss’s reasons. Never knew him to turn a trick like this before—but, I ask you, is any busi-1 baas being run as it ever eras run J ■'Emilie V Lorincj CHAPTER XV—Continued -lb- “Pay It back! Don’t be fooUsh. There is no question of paying it back. Have you forgotten that Mary Amanda Dane left an income to you?” "You don’t think for an instant, do you, that I would accept a cent of that money? Would you taka any from me when I tried to divide with you? Fm surprised. I’m really sur prised that you don’t play the mar tyr and ask me to marry you.” "No. I shan’t ask you to marry me. Fve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but, believe me, rve learned enough not to make that one.” His cool denial hurt Brooke intol erably. He hated her, she told her- aeH Why shouldn’t he? "In the library a while ago you fold Lucette you were leaving here because you had accepted an offer. Are you engaged to Jerry Field?” A gate in the wall! A way out without letting him know that she cared, how desperately she cared for him. She laughed. “I—Here come Sam and Lucette. They are stamping snow from their feet outside as a warning that they are about to interrupt our confer ence. Amusing, isn’t it?” "Amusing to you, perhaps. It isn’t to me.” Sam’s face was as red as the fire as he and Lucette entered the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but—” "Don’t apologize.” “I’m not apologizing.” His face went from red to crimson. "I’m only trying to explain. Brooke, that the inspector's walking the floor and gnashing his teeth and muttering something about keeping the Law waiting. He wants you, Mark, and he wants you quick.” “I’m going.” Mark Trent paused on the threshold. “Good-night, Brooke. We’ll finish our talk to morrow.” before? I’ll tell the world It isn’t Fm terribly sorry to lose you." For an instant, emotion threat ened damage to the enameled calm of the woman’s face. Brooke was still puzzling over the dismissal when she reached the small Bermuda-type house, with its whitewashed roof and walls built around two sides of a patio, in which she had beep living since she had come to Palm Beach, and entered her room. She changed from the yellow cot ton frock to white shantung pa jamas. She picked up letters from a desk, pushed open a window, stepped out on the gallery and breathed deeply of the light thin air. She opened a letter from Lucette. For the first two pages the word “Jerry” monopolized space; to even a feeble-minded person it would be evident that Jerry Field was lead ing in a long stag line. Brooke was glad of that, but how did Lucette manage to take on all the festivities and be flt for her work in the morning? As if she had antici pated the question, Lucette wrote, with words heavily underlined for emphasis: “After this evening I’ll cut O'it the night spots. There’s nothing in them for me.” “So stop worrying about little sis ter, darling, and get this: I want to be like you, Brooke. You don’t smoke, you don’t drink, and yet I’ve never seen a man who, when Intro duced to you, didn’t stand a little straighter, fuss with his tie, and get that Fve-found-her-at-last look in his eyes; and you’re grand fun and the life of the party. "There, you have the inside story of my life, so what? Never thought I would let you know how I adored you—bad for you—but here it is. “Lucette.” “P. S. News flash! Sam’s play may be produced any day. Its pred ecessor is folding up; it was a ter rible flop.” Brooke shut her eyes to keep back tears. She had known that Lucette loved her, but that she set her on a pedestal was unbelievable. . As to that “Fve-found-her-at-last” look in a man’s eyes, she should have seen Mark Trent’s when he had called her a “schemer” in Jed Stewart’s office. Why think of it? Hadn’t she plenty of happier things to think of? She glanced at the clock. Sam’s play might be produced any day. She had lost her job. She was free to go to New York! Could she afford it? Why did that grubby question have to pop up to take the joy out of life? Of course she would go. She V, “Last Appearance! What Do Yon Mean?” had flown to Palm Beach at the ex pense of Carston’s Inc. She would take a bus in return on her own. She would go tonight, go on to a new adventure in living. Tingling with excitement, she tel ephoned for a reservation on the night bus; packed a small trunk to be sent by express; folded her sil ver evening frock and accessories into the air luggage suitcase which Carston’s Inc. had provided. She would want the gala clothes for the premiere—thrilling thought. She laid out an amethyst tweed suit with crimson scarf and beret, to wear on the journey. It would be cold when she reached New York. All ready and somewhere to go! She glanced at the clock. There was tiipa for a swim before she started for the style-show. It would set her up and refresh her. She slipped into the white water- frock and caught up a beach coat Life was gloriously worth while even if the man one loved did think led to the petto. She eras humming a snatch of gay song as she crossed the strip of yellow sand steeping in golden sunlight which the march of fash ion had left behind. Arms extend ed. she slid into the sparkling wa ter. It parted. Buoyant foamy, it closed over her. Marvelous feel ing. This would stabilize her mind, drown haunting memories. She swam with quick strokes, turned, floated, came back arm over arm, and, dripping with coolness, waded out to the shore. A man rose from the shadow of the dark hibiscus hedge outside the patio. Its scarlet flowers seemed to nod at her in amused derision as she stopped in surprise. Mark Trent! This was the cue for cool sophistication. He held out the beach coat she had dropped on the sand. “Put this on, Brooke. Let’f sit here. I want to talk to you and we may be interrupted Inside.” “How did you know where I was?” “I’ve been playing round with Lu cette, more or less. Saw Sam when I came through New York.” “Sam! How was he?” "Nerves taut as violin strings, otherwise in great shape.” “When does his play open?” "Day after tomorrow.” “So soon!” “Why that sudden look of hor ror?” "It wasn’t horror, it was—Fve lost my job and I had planned to leave here tonight by bus, but traveling that way I can’t possibly make New York in time for the premiere of ‘Islands Arise.’” "I know that you’ve lost your Job. I had a talk with your boss before I left the city. He agreed with me that you shouldn’t miss the opening of Sam’s play.” “You mean that you told him to Are me? What right have you to in terfere in my life?” "The right of a sort of guardian; didn’t Aunt ,Mary Amanda so re quest in that last will?” Eyes on a pelican fishing in shallow water, he accused: "You haven’t answered Jed’s let ters notifying you that the amount of income you had been receiving from my aunt’s estate would be de posited monthly to your account as usual. I had to come to find out if you had received them.” Brooke sprang to her feet. Her beach coat slipped off. Slim and golden-skinned in her white water- frock, she dug pink toes into the hot sand. “I didn’t answer because you both know without being told that I won’t touch that money.” Mark Trent loomed over her. “Put this on again,” he command ed grimly. “Why won’t you touch that money?” Brooke thrust her arms into the beach coat he held and stuck her unsteady hands into the pockets. “Would you take a cent of Mary Amanda Dane’s when I thought it mine? Didn’t you say in that snobby voice of yours the afternoon we met in Jed Stewart’s office: “ ‘Hope you’ll enjoy the house and fortune,’ Miss Reybum.’ Now it’s my turn: ” ‘I hope you’ll enjoy the house and fortune,’ Mr. Trent. I’m sure Daphne Field will be crazy about it” “Daphne!” He caught her wrist in a grip which hurt. “Where did you get that crazy idea?” How crude, how unbelievably crude she had been to mention Daphne’s name, Brooke accused herself hotly. But, having blun dered, she’d better see it through with the light touch. “From a letter from Mrs. Greg ory the other day. It was full of news, all about Mark Trent and Daphne Field, the current lady of his heart. She’s a grand gossip.” Mark Trent’s eyes drew Brooke’s like a magnet. Was the light in his laughter? “Anne Gregory is more than a gossip; she’s a strategist I haven’t spoken to Daphne Field since the night of the play and she knows it” He loosened his hold on her wrist "What are you doing this after noon?” “I’m—I’m modeling—for the last time.” “Can’t you get out of it?” “No.” “That’s decisive. I hava a pres ent for you, but this doesn’t seem to be just the moment to produce it. You seem to dislike me more than ever. I thought we might play round together. - If you can’t, or won’t, I’ll join a bunch of friends who wanted to date me up for some sort of fete this afternoon. They were all excited about a plan to surprise somebody about something. I didn’t listen; I was anxious to lo cate you. I’ll see you tonight be fore I leave Brooke.” The sky was like a huge sapphire; the sunshine was rose-tinted; the ocean a tumbling mass of emeralds. A fragrant breeze, a mere sugges tion of a breeze, ruffled the bright orange flame-vine on top of the high Spanish wall which enclosed three sides of a garden open to the sea, a garden filled with tables set in gay borders which were filmy frocks; there were faces above the tables, faces under large hats and men’s faces with no hats at all From a Moorish gallery drifted male voices singing to the accom paniment of guitars as Brooke stepped from the automobile which had brought her to the charity fete. Cantons Inc. had staged the wed ding party of the style show with meticulous attention to detail, even ti sleek shining can to bring the men, hordes of them, all the friDe and appurtenances of a wedding ex cept groom and ushers. Madame Celeste, chle in black and pearls, was flushed with excite ment under her make-up; her French accent eras noticeable for its absence as she whispered last instructions: "Wait until the singen stop, girls. The moment the orchestra strikes the first note of the wedding march, start Don’t get flustered. Don’t get out of step. You’re all lovely.” A violin sighed a soft note. Othen Joined until strings and harps and woodwinds swelled into the wedding march from Lohengrin. Bridesmaids, their lips scarlet their eyes shining between dark mascaraed lashes, passed between the iron grilles and moved slowly up the ribbon-outlined aisle, drag ging their gold slippers a little in time to the rhythm of the music, and the swish of their taffeta slips. The first two were dressed in bil lowy rose-orange net; beheld them Where Idea for Tunnels Started Ancient Egyptians, observing streams enter one side of a hill and come out the other, got the idea for tunnels. They built them into tombs. Builders after them bored tunnels to carry or drain water. One peo ple, the Babylonians, more daring than the rest, tunneled beneath the Euphrates river. Thus began the story, according to a correspondent in the Washington Post, of the most fascinating and dangerous of all tunneling operations, subaqueous- underwater. •rrr* \ Sunday I SCHOOL LESSON-* By REV. HAROLD L. LUNDQUIST, Dean of the Moody Bibla Institute of Chlcaco. • Western Newspaper Union. Lesson for November 21 CHRISTIAN WORKERS “It Would Be You,” She Said. at a short distance came two more in a lighter tint, then two in soft yellow, then a fourth pair in ivory, and then the bride in snowy satin so soft in texture that it trailed in rav ishing folds. Slowly she came with head slightly bent, eyes presum ably on the mass^ef'white Trans vaal daisies and stevia she carried. Brooke felt the surge of motion as everyone stood up—a tribute to Madame Celeste’s stagecraft—the wedding procession was so perfect that habit had brought the audi ence to its feet. She must keep her attention on the girls in front—why had Mark Trent come to Palm Beach—this heavenly music made one all trembly inside—would she never reach the spot where she was to turn—three stairs to mount be fore she reached it. Something pulled at her eyes like a magnet She looked up. A group of men was standing near the steps. All wore white suits with blue shirts and identical ties of Java print; each one had a boutonniere of deep blue bachelor buttons in the lapel of his coat; all were smil ing broadly, she could feel their re pressed excitement Mark Trent was with them. His face went col orless with surprise as his eyes met hers in the instant before she bent her head again. Why was he here? Was this the fete a bunch of friends had urged him to attend? The stairs. One! Two! Three! She was up. The bridesmaids had deployed to face the audience—she had almost thought "congregation” —the orange-color frocks were at the ends of the semi-circle, the tints paled till they came to the snow- white bride. Her veil had been thrown back. Time for her to turn. The music swelled into a paean of triumph. It looked miles to the iron grilles beyond which stood Madame Celeste.- She was safely down the steps! She must smile. “Ready!” She heard the whispered word, saw the men in white who had been standing beside the stairs hurdle the guarding ribbon. One offered his arm to her. Urged huskily: “Quick! Let’s put it through.” She looked up. Mark Trent! All the bitterness and pain went out of her heart It was as if a great wall she had built between them had crumbled to a heap which she could cross. In a flare of gorgeous happi ness she slipped her bend under his arm. “It would be you,” she said, and smiled in the second before they were in step with the music. Be hind her she heard peals of laugh ter, girls’ voices, men’s voices. Then applause. A woman called: “How priceless! The men are coming out with the bridesmaids!” (TO BE CONTINUED) LESSON TEXT—I Corinthian* 3:10-15; Galatians 6:0-10. GOLDEN TEXT—And let us not be weary In well doing: for In due season we shall reap, if we faint not.—Gala tians 6:9. PRIMARY TOPIC—In Our Churcn. JUNIOR TOPIC—What Can I Do to Help? INTERMEDIATE AND SENIOR TOP IC—What Can I Do for Christ and the Church? YOUNG PEOPLE AND ADULT TOP IC—The Need for Christian Workers. “Laborers together with God”— such is the glorious and distinctive title of true Christians, according to the verse just preceding our as signed text. Unfortunate is the all too common error of regarding only pastors and missionaries as the workers in God’s vineyard. While we recognize that there is a special calling for some men to leave their vocations and devote their entire time to the Lord’s work, let us be sure properly to stress the impor tance of every Christian’s being a worker for God. The portions assigned for our study present the privilege and re sponsibility of Christians as fellow- workers with Christ, under the fig ures of builders and of seed sowers. I. Builders of the House (I Cor. 3:10-15). The first requisite of a building is a foundation and it must be strong and true. Builders for Christ have a sure foundation stone in Him. 1. The Foundation—Jesus Christ There is only definite assurance in Paul’s word concerning the foun dation. It is perfectly clear to him that there can be no Christian faith without Jesus Christ Such a state ment sounds almost childish. One might well assume that no intelli gent person would claim to be one of God’s builders, and reject his foundation stone. But, alas, many are they who claim to be Christians, who profess to be raising a structure of Christian life and testimony, but who have set aside the only possible foundation on which to build. Plain consistency and ordinary honesty would seem to require that they an nounce their organizations as being social, benevolent, or political, but certainly not Christian. 2. The Master Builder—and his builders. Paul was a pioneer. He declares his ambition and calling to be “to preach the gospel not where Christ was named, lest I should build on another man’s foundation” (Rom. 10:25). Such a privilege does not come to all men, but let those who thus serve learn of this “wise mas ter builder” that they may lay only one foundation—Jesus Christ. “Let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon.” It is a serious matter to serve the Lord as a build er, for it is possible to go badly astray at this point as well as in laying the foundation. We dare not heedlessly rush about “doing things” for God, without giving thought and prayer to our work. 3. The materials—good and bad. Whether we apply Paul’s words to the building of our personal spiritual life or to the work we do in the church they are equally serious and urgent. “The day”—when Christ re turns, and we shall stand before him to give account of the deeds done in the flesh—will reveal by flaming fire whether we have been faithful, true and diligent in preach ing God’s Word, in prayer, in sac rificial service for Christ, or have sought to introduce into our lives and into the churches we serve the “wood, hay, and stubble” of unspir itual schemes, neglect of God’s Word, prayerlessness. Saved? Yes, but entering into God’s presence as a man who has escaped from his burning house with nothing but his life. II. Sowers of the Seed (Gal. 6:6- 10). The figure changes. No longer are we builders—but rather sowers of seed. Would that it were all good seed that were sown—but we see the sowing to the flesh as well as to the Spirit. This is true 1. In our own lives. The inexora ble law of sowing and reaping pre vails in the moral realm as truly as it does in the physical. Men who would never expect wheat to grow where they have planted thistles, seem to expect that they may sow in their own lives the seeds of selfish indulgence, of careless neglect of the things of God, and still somehow reap the fruit of good character and noble living. 2. In the lives of others. We may be tempted to take attractive by paths and short-cuts to win the in terest and allegiance of men to our selves and the church, but they will prove to bring but corruption and destruction. Spiritual seed will al ways produce spiritual life. 3. Waiting for the harvest Har vest must be patiently awaited. We know it to be so in natural things; the same is true in the spiritual realm. We may not even live to see the harvest but we may confi dently leave it in God’s hand. Others may have the joy of reaping, and will have, if we sow the good seed. “Let us not be weary in well doing.” A Durable Rug of String plete instructions and charts for making the medallions shown; an illustration of them and of tha stitches used; material require ments ; a photograph of the medal lion; color suggestions. To obtain this pattern, send 15 cents in stamps or coins (coins preferred) to The Sewing Circle, Household Arts Dept., 259 W, Fourteenth St., New York, N. Y. Please write your name, ad dress and pattern number plainly. Pattern 5927. A durable scatter rug in cotton —quick to do, inexpensive, sturdy, colorful. It’s made of four strands worked together forming a stout “thread.” Made in three colors, you can have gay rugs for Winter —rugs that will fit the coloring of your rooms exactly. Crochet the medallions one at a time, some plain, some figured, and join them for this stunning diamond design. In pattern 5927 you will find com' ICtcLe P/ulQ i'll never go to DINNER WITH A BOY AGAIN UNLESS I NAVE SOME PHILLIPS' TABLETS IN MY PURSE On Uncrowded Roads t There were careless drivers 3(i years ago, but the horses had sense. ' i All the ladders of success have a missing rang, here and there. You have to be prepared for that. If one must be homely why can’t one be.grandly homely like Abra ham Lincoln was? Things we’d like to know/ Why are lawyers’ arguments callec briefs? Quickly Gets Around A rumor may not have a leg to stand on, yet how swiftly it travels. If you tell your secret why do you expect others not to? Silence doesn’t always mean that your adversary in argument has given in. stone free. Some stones that don’t roll, don’t accumulate moss. They get buried in the mud. It's the Grindstone Men with axes to grind will also make a beaten path to your door if you let them use your grind- • Ancestors are a great source of pride, particularly if they left for tunes. Don’t make fun of dignity. A man without any is painful to con template. Men like Longfellow and Tenny son have a good many monu ments, though they don’t need any. What Might Have Been It is when our budding hopes are nipped beyond recovery by some rough wind, that we are the most disposed to picture to our selves what flowers they might have borne if they had flourished. —Dickens. Often “acid indigestion” is dis tressing to you — and offensive to others. But now there is no excuse for being guilty. You simply carry your alkalizer with you — and use it at the first sign of “upset” stomach. Simply take two tiny tablets of Phillips* Milk of Magnesia when out with others. Or — if at home — you can take two teaspoons of liquid Phillips’. Both act the same way. Relief is usually a matter of seconds. “Gas,” nausea, “heart burn,” acid breath — all respond quicldy. Just make sure you ask for "Phillips.” Reward of Innocence Mirth and cheerfulness are but the due reward of innocence of life.—Sir T. Moore. To Women: If you suffer every month you owe It to yourself to take note of Cardul and find out whether It will benefit you. Functional pains of menstruation have, in many, many cases, been eased by Cardul. And where mal nutrition (poor nourishment) had taken away women’s strength, Car^ dul has been found to Increase the appetite. Improve digestion and In that way help to build up a natural resistanca to certain useless suffering. (Where Car dul fails to benefit, consult a physician.) Ask your druggist for Cardul — (pro nounced "Card-u-i.") MEET BIG BEN NEW TWO-FISTED VALUE IN SMOKING T0BACC x.-pV-vte. UNION MAM 2 ounces of choice hurley... and a valuable coupon in every tin / a Ahere’S double value in every ’ X tin of union-made Big Ben. You get two full ounces of sweet and mild hurleys from the Blue Grass country—crimp-cut to bum slow and cool—kept fresh by an air-tight Cellophane seal. And—in every tin there’s a Big Ben coupon good for handsome premiums...pipes, playing cards, watches, knives, flashlights. Look for Big Ben at all tobacco dealers. You can’t miss that big red tin with the thoroughbred horse on it. Get yourself a tin of full- flavored Big Ben today 1—and watch how soon the premiums roll in. Hi s 3: ;r 'jk -xnr-- r-iT iTBiliW'rrgTi