^eAUCTIOA block A XOVZL OF AEW YORIC LIFE I-7T~7--1 _ __ __ v ^ Author of > ^rCEX DEACft t T rutt&t ILLUSTRATIONS 4^rPARKER. SYNOPSIS. Peter Knight, defeated for political of fice in his town, decides to venture New York in order that the family fortunes ■might benefit by the expected rise of his charming daughter, Lorelei. A well knCwn critic interviews Lorelei Knight, now stage beauty with Bergman's Revue, for a special article. Her coin-hunting mother outlines Lorelei’s ambitions, but Blosson.' the press agent, later adds his Information. Lorelei attends Millionaire Mammon’s gorgeous entertainment. She meets Merkle. a wealthy dyspeptic Bob Wharton comes uninvited. Lorelei dis covers a blackmail plot against Hammon. in which her brother is Involved. Merkle and Lorelei have an auto wreck. The blackmailers besmirch her good nam-'. I♦< V this installment. V V V ►J A Lorelei flnds'she cannot live long er with her rascally parents. Merkle, the banker, has just offered to give her ten thousand dollars. They are discussing the proposition. CHAPTER XI—Continued. “Why do you offer me so much?” she asked, curiously. “Because I like you— Oh, I mean ‘like.’ not ‘Jove!’ Because I think you’re good and will need money to remain good. You’re not an ordinary woman. Miss Knight: you can’t live as ordinary women live, now that you’re famous. New York won’t let you.” "You’re very kind and generous after all that has occurred and after knowing my reason for being here.” “My dear child, you didn’t choose your family, and as for the other, the women of my set marry for money, just as yon plan to do. So do women everywhere, for that matter, and many of them make excellent wives—yes, far better than if they had married poor men. Few girls as beautiful as you in any walk of life are allowed to marry for love. Trust me. a woman like you, if she lives up to the obli gations of wifehood, deserves better than one who takes a man for love and then perhaps goes back on her bar gain. Will you accept my offer?" “No. But I thank you.” “Think it over; there is no hurry, and remember I want to help." With one of his infrequent, wan smiles, he extended his hand, and Lorelei grasped it warmly, though her face was set and strained. She was far too well balanced for hasty resolutions, but her mind, once made up. was seldom changed. It dis tressed her grievously to leave her people, but at the thought of remain ing longer with them every instinct rebelled. Her own kin, urged by greed, had not hesitated to cheapen and degrade her; their last offense, coupled with all that had gone before, was more than could be borne. Yet she was less resentful than sad, for It seemed to her that this was the be ginning of the end. First the father had been crippled, then the moral fiber of the whole family had disintegrated until the mother had become a harpy, the brother a scamp, and she, Lorelei, a shameless hunter of men. Now the home tie. that last bond of respect ability, was to be broken. Her first impulse was to take up her abode with Adoree Demorest, but a little thought showed the inadvisability of that. In her doubt she appealed to Lilas, broaching the subject as the two girls were dressing after the perform ance. When Lorelei had made known her decision, the other girl nodded her ap proval. “I don’t blame you a bit; a girl needs liberty. I have five rooms, and a Jap to take care of them; they're lovely.” “I can’t afford an expensive place.” "Well, there are some three-room flats in the rear, and—I have It! Ger tie Moore kept one, but she’s gone on tiie road. It's all furnished, too. If it hasn’t been sublet you eau get it at your own terms. The building is re spectable, too; It’s as proper as the Hit*. I'm dining alone touight. Come to dinner with me and we'll find out all about it.” Lorelei would have preferred a dif ferent location, not particularly desir ing to be near Lilas; but there was no time In which to look about, and the necessity that faced her made any assistance welcome. Without more discussions she agreed, and the two girls rode uptown together. The Elegancia, where Lilas lived, was a painfully new, overelaborate building, with a Gothic front and a Gotham rear—half its windows pasted with rental signs. Six potted palms, a Turkish rug and a jaundiced Jamai can elevator boy gave an air of wel come to the ornate marble entrance hall. Lilas fitted a key to the first door on the right as they went in, explaining, “I’m on the ground floor, and find it very convenient.” “This place Is too grand for me,” Lo relei objected. “Oh, offer your own price for Ger tie's flat If you like It They’re crazy for tenants. It’s cheaper than hotelo— if you want to save money.” Lorelei was surprised to find her friend’s quarters not only richly but lavishly furnished. The decorations were harmonious and bespoke a reck less disregard of cost ▲ fluffy Jap anese spaniel with protruding eyes and distorted visage capered deliriously at its mistress' feet. But the objects that intrigued the visitor most strongly were several paintings. They were of a kind she had seldom seen, and in the afternoon light one stood out with particularly startling effect. It was a dusky land scape; there was a stream, a meadow edge, trees just growing black against a dying sunset, a herd of cattle com ing out of the west. Before this pic ture Lorelei paused, staring with wide eyes of wonder. Lilas flung her hat cayelessly into a chair, lit a cigarette from a Tiflfany humidor, then turned with the spaniel in her arms and, beholding her guest witli rapt, upturned face, remarked, with a laugh; “Looks like the real thing, doesn’t it?” “Oh—it's wonderful—so clean and cool and quiet: I've seen cattle In Vale that looked just like those, when I went barefoot in the grass.” “Some Dutchman painted it—his name’s on the corner. He's dead now. I believe. It used to hang in some museum—I forget where. I like pic tures of women best, but—” She shrugged and left the sentence unfin ished. “There's a dandy in my bed room. although It didn’t cost half as much as that barnyard thing. The frame's a foot wide and covered with solid gold.” “I had no idea you lived like this.” Lorelei peered through a pair of French doors and into a perfectly ap pointed library, with a massive mahog any table, deep lounging chairs, a writ ing desk, and a dome-crowned read ing lamp. “My study.” Lilas laughed, sbortly. “That's where I improve my mind— not. The books are deadly. Now come; Hitchy Koo must have dinner ready. His name isn't Hitchy Koo. but it sounds like it. and he’s 'the cutest little thing; got the cutest little swing.’ ” She moved down the hall, humming the chorus of the senseless popular song from which she had quoted. Everywhere was the same evidence of good taste in decoration and luxury of equipment, but a suspicion had en tered Lorelei’s mind, and she avoided comment. Hitchy Koo was cook, but ler and bouse-l}o.v. and in view of Miss Lynn’s disorderly habits it was evi dent that he had all he could do to keep the place presentable. His mis tress ate without appetite and in a hypercritical mood that took no ac count of the wasteful attempts to please her. Quite regardless of the pa tient little .Tap, she found fault with him savagely, so that Lorelei was often painfully embarrassed. “So you like my home, do you?” she queried, after a time. “I’ve never seen one so beautiful.” Lilas nodded. “Hitchy sleeps out. and that leaves me the whole place. Jarvis furnished it, even to the books, and I’m studying to be a lady.” Again she laughed mockingly. “I make a bluff at reading, but so long as 1 talk about Napoleon he never thinks to question me. I know that French gii:k backward.” “I wish I had a hobby—something to interest me, something to live for.” said Lorelei, lamely. "Yes. It gives you something to think about when you’re alone. It helps you to—stnnd things.” For the first time Liias showed a trace of feel “I Was an Imaginative Kid,” She Con tinued. lug in her voice; she dropped her chin into her palm and, leaning upon the table, stared as if at a vision. Her dark eyes were somber, her brows were lowered and drawn together. The slipshod informality of the meal, the constant faultfinding of the host ess, made it something of a trial. Lore lei was not sorry when it was over and Lilas took her to look at the va cant flat. Miss Moore's apartment offered a wide contrast to the one they had Just quitted, being very small and very modestly furnished; but it was on the second floor, convenient to both eleva tor and stairway, it boasted a piano, and the superintendent allowed his prospective tenant to name her own terms. She descended with relief, feel ing that ahe had made not a bad bar gain. She stated, as ahe sank into Lilas’ big library chair, “I feel quite inde 1 pendent at last. The rent is ridicu lous, and I can do my own cooking." ‘T»on’t make a fool of yourself. Yon can do as well as I've done. You have the looks.” "But I’m not engaged to a multimil lionaire.” “It seems queer, when I think of it,” Lilas mused. "Jarvis is one of the richest men In New York, and he made his money out of the steel business— the business into which I was born. Have you ever been through a mill?’’ “No.” “it’s wonderful, terrible. I can smell tile hot slag, the scorching cinders, the smoke, to this day. Some nights I wake up—screaming, it’s so vivid. I see the glare of the furnaces, the belch ing flames, the showers of sparks front the converters, the streams of white hot metal, and they seem to pour over me. I have the same drdam always; I’ve had it ever since the night after my father was killed.” “You told me he was killed In a steel mill.” “Yes. before my eyes. I saw it.” Lilas shuddered. “I was a little girl then, but I’ve never forgotten. We were poor, dreadfully poor, like all the Jews— Oh, yes: didn’t you know I’m a Jew?” “Then ‘Lilas Lynn’—?” “Stage name. It's really Lily Le vinskl. We were Polish. I was dragged up. along with the other work men's children, in the soot and grime of the Pennsylvania mills. “Hell must be like those mills—it couldn't be worse." Lorelei had never heard her room mate speak with such feeling nor in such a strain. Bnt Lilas seemed quite unconscious of her little burst of elo quence. She was seated, leaning for ward now with hands locked between her knees; her eyes were brilliant in the gathering dusk. Her memories seemed to affect her with a kind of horror, yet to hold her fascinated aud to demand expression. “I was an imaginative kid,” she continued. “It’s a trait of our people, like—well, like their distrust of au thority and their fear of law. Father worked in the Bessemer plant, like any liunkie, and the women used to bring the men's lunches to them. Mother wasn’t strong, and that duty fell to me. “It was one of the biggest mills in Pennsylvania, and its tonnage was always heavy because the superin tendent was a slave driver. He was one of those men who are born without a soul or feelings, and he had no in terest In anything except rails aud plates. “One day I took my stand just out side the Bessemer plant. It was a big shell of steel girders and corrugated iron, and the side where we were was open. Father saw me and waved his hand—he always waved at me—then I saw the superintendent coming through—a big. square-faced man whom everybody feared. Wherever he went the huukies danced; lie could put life into a dead man’s limbs, that man. It was because of their great fear of him and his furious urging that —something happened." l.uas uaa oeguu uer reeirai siowiy. without apparent object, but once Into it she seeiued unable to stop; and now. although her words came haltingly. It was plain that she had worked herself into a sort of hysteria In which she gave little heed to her hearer. It was characteristic of her that she could so excite herself by the power of vis ualization as to be completely trans ported. “Something went wrong overhead; anyhow, the converter dumped too soon. Men were working directly un derneath, father among the rest. I saw him go down under a stream of liquid steel—” Lorelei's horrified exclamation went unnoticed; Lilas’ voice was shrill. “Yes. He was blotted out, right be fore my eyes, in an instant. In the time it takes to snap your finger, he— and the others—were gone, changed into smoke, into absolute nothingness. There was no insurance, and nobody took the blame. Another Jew family, a few more widowed and fatherless foreigners, among that army, meant nothing. I've never forgotten that day, nor the figure of that shouting, swear ing man who came through the Bes semer mill crying for more speed, more speed, more speed. “I suppose I was too little to make any foolish vows of vengeance, for I was only a ragged mite of a child among a horde of slaves, but when i grew older I often dreamed of having that man in my power, and—making him suffer. Who would—who could have imagined that I’d ever be living on money wrung from the labor of men like my father, and be in a position to meet that man on an equal footing? I never did—not in my wildest moments, and yet—here I am—and the day of reckoning gets closer all the time.” She ended with an abruptness that evidenced her agitation. Rising, she jerked a beaded chain that depended from the center lamp, and the room was flooded with mellow light; then she drew out the table drawer at her guest’s elbow, and with shaking bands selected a small box from the confu sion within. Lorelei recoiled at the sight of a revolver hidden among the disorder. “Goodness! I hope it isn’t loaded,” the latter exclaimed. “Your story gives me the creeps and that thing—seems to fit in.” “It’s loaded, ail right I keep it for protection. I don’t know why I told you all this,” she half apologized to Lorelei. “It has upset me, as it al ways does.” “How did you ever grow up and— educate yourself?” “I hardly know. I filled out when 1 began to get something to eat. and i developed a good figure. Finally I got I to be a model. I was quick to learn, 1 and when rich dames came in I watched them. I became good-looking, too, although not so pretty as I am now, for I couldn’t put the time or money on it. Then I came to New York. The rest isn’t a pretty story.” Miss Lynn made this declaration calmly as she busied herself with the glass her servant had fetched. She dissolved a portion of the powder she had taken from the box in the spoon, then carefully transferred the liquid into the cap of a pearl-and-gold foun tain pen. Inserting the open end of the receptacle into first one. then the other nostril, she inhaled the con tents. “What are you doing?” asked Lore lei curiously. “Something to quiet my nerves. I— wonder why I told you all tills?” She eyed her guest speculatively, then shrugged. “Well, since we're to be neighbors, we must be friends, and there's no harm done. Now that Jar vis and I are engaged, he’s awfully particular about the company I keep, but he likes you. How different they act when they’re in earnest! He even wants me to quit work now, but I like the excitement—it’s better than waiting.” She glanced at her wrist- i watch and drew herself together. “Our time is up, dear; we must get back to the show-shop.” CHAPTER XII. Lorelei exploded her bomb at break fast Sunday morning, and the effect was all she had dreaded. Fortunately Jim had gone out. The girl’s humilia tion at Merkle's disclosure and her merciless accusations left little to be said in self-defense. Of course, the usual tears followed, likewise repe titions of the time-worn plea that it had all been done for Lorelei's own good and had been prompted by unself ish love for her. “I’m beginning to doubt that,” Lore lei said, slowly. “I think you all look upon me as a piece of property to do with as you please. Perhaps I'm dis loyal and ungrateful, but—I can’t help it. And I can’t forgive you yet. When I can I’ll come home again, but it's impossible for me to live here now, feeling as I do. I want to love you— so I’m—going to run away.” Tragically, through her tears. Mrs. Knight inquired: “What will become of us? We can't live—Jim never does anything for us.” In Peter’s watery stare was abject fright. “Lorelei wouldn’t let us suf fer,” he ventured, tremulously. “I’m sick. I may die any time, so the doc tor says.” He was indeed a changed man; that easy good-humor that had been his most likable trait had been lost in habitual peevishness. “I’ll keep the house running as be fore.” his daughter assured him. “and I'll manage to get along on what’s left. But you mustn’t be quite so extrava- [ gant, that’.s all. I sha'n’t be—and you ! wouldn't force me to do anything I'd regret. I’m sure.” She choked down her pity at the sight of the invalid's pasty face and dabby form, then turned to the window. Her emotion prevented her from observing the relief that greeted her words. T.lie moment was painful; Lorelei's eyes were dim. and she hardly saw the dreary prospect of tire escapes, of whitewashed brick, of bare, gaping back yards overhung with clotheslines, like nerves exposed in the process of dissection. “Yes, things will go on just the same,” she repeated, then clenched her hands and burst forth miserably: "Oh, I know how badly you need money! I know what the doctor says, and—I'll get it somehow. It seems to me I'd pay any price just to see dad walking around again and to know that you were both provided for. Money, money! You both worship it, and—I'm getting so I can’t think of anything else. Nothing else seems worth while.” Two hours later a dray called for her trunks and took them across town. The Elegancia apartments looked down on her with chill disapproval as she entered; the elevator man stared at her with black, hostile eyes until she had made herself known; and even the superintendent—in a less pre tentious structure than the Elegancia he would have been the janitor—now that “No. G” was rented, did not extend even a perfunctory welcome as he de livered the keys. On the contrary, he made known the exclusive character of the house in such a pointed manner as to offend her. Lilas was out. she learned, which probably meant that she was still asleep. Lorelei ascended to her new hwrne in low spirits. Now that she saw the place in strong daylight, she was vaguely disappointed. She was very lonely, very friendless, and very much discouraged. Then she noticed the telephone and sprang toward it. Adoree was at home; her voice an swered cheerily, and her interruptions of amazement and delight caused Lore lei's message to spin Itself out unduly. Without waiting for an invitation Adoree cried: “Let me come and help. Please! We’ll use both the poodles for mops, and I’ll be there in ten minutes. . . . You’re a perfect dear to say yes, for I know you want to do it all yourself.” “Come now—quickly. I’m scared—” Lorelei begged, In tearful tones. “I’ll drive right up in my chariot of flame; I was going out. and it’s wait ing while I kalsomine my face. Are yon sure everything is good and dirty? Goody! We’ll do it ourselves. Good by.” Side by side the girls worked; they forgot their luncheon, then sent the sad-faced footman in search of a deli catessen store, and ate ravenously with a newspaper for tablecloth. By eve uing' the [dace found itself for once iu its life clean and orderly, and the two occupants dressed and went out to a nearby hotel for dinner. Returning, they put the final touches to their task. When Adoree left, late that night, 'the kissed her friend, saying: ‘‘Thank you for the loveliest Sunday I ever had. It was splendid, and I’!-! eome again tomorrow.” The theatric*.! prefraafor. 5s fall of women whose lives are fawlfisi: hence it had not been difficult for Lorelei to build up a reputation that insured re spect. although her connection with a Bergman show made the task more dif ficult than it would otherwise have been. During the two years of her stage experience no scandal had at tached to her name, and she had there fore begun to feel secure. In that pe riod she had met many men of the usual types that are attracted by foot light favorites, and they had pressed attentions upon her, but so long as she had been recognized as the Lady Un obtainable they had not forced their unwelcome advances. Now, however, that a scurrilous newspaper story had associated her name with that of a wealthy man. she began to note a change. Bergman’s advances had been only another disquieting symptom of T~-- "I 11 sill “Money, Money! You Both Wor ship It.” what she had to expect—an indication of the new color her reputation had as sumed. Nobel Bergman’s commercial caution steered him wide of the moral women lu his employ, hut the other kind, and especially the innocent or the inexperi enced, had cause to know and to fear him. In appearance he was slender and foppish: he affected a pronounced waist line in his coats, his eyes were large and dark and brilliant, his mouth was sensual. He never raised his voice, he never appeared to see plain women: such girls as accepted his at tentions were sure of advancement, but paid for it in other ways. • •»***• On Monday evening Mr. Slosson. the press agent, thrust his head through Hie dressing-room door and announced to Lorelei: "Bergman says Mrs. Thnmpson-Bel laire is giving a box party, and she told him to fetch you around for sup per. She owns a piece of this show, and the theater belongs to the estate, so you’ll just have to go.” “Mercy! Mrs. Thotnpson-Bellaire. the college lmy’s giddy godmother." I jins mocked. "I suppose she’s out slum ming. with her kindergarten class.” Slosson frowned at this levity. “Will you go?" he inquired. “Yes or no?” "i’m-nt-I’ll have to say ‘yes.’ it seems.” “Good. I’ll 'phone Bergman.” When the press agent had gone Lilas regarded her companion with open mmpassion. “Gee! But you're going lo have a grand time. That bunch think’s it's smart to be seen with show people, and of course they’ll dance all iflght.” “And I did so want to go straight hack to my new home.” When she |oined her employer after the show she was in no very agreeable frame of mind. Mrs. Thoinpson-Beliaire was a ver milion haired widow with a chest like s blacksmith, who had beeome famous for her Jewels and her social eccen tricities. She and her party wore e» tablished at one of the uptown "Trot tolres.” when Xohel Bergman and Lo relei arrived. Three example* of blushing boyhood devoted themselves to a languid blonde girl of thirty-five, and the hostess herself was dancing with another tender youth, but she came forward, panting. “So good of yon to come, dear.” she cried. “This la Miss Wyeth, and these are my boys. Mr.—” She spoke four meaningless names, and four mean ingless smiles responded; four wet combed heads were bowed. She turned to her blonde companion, saying “She is pretty, isn't she. Alice?” “Very.” Alice agreed, without remov ing her eyes from the youth at her left. Bergman Invited Lorelei to finish the dance: then he Inquired. "What do you think of her?” “Her hair fascinates me; she looks as if she had just burst out of a thicket of henna leaves.” Bergman laughed, silently. “But why did she invite me?” "I told her to.” “Yon?” “I knew yon'd refuse if I asked you.” “So? Then I’m really your guest in stead of hers.” “We'll leave whenever you say.” Throughout the rest of the dance Lorelei was silent offended at Berg man’s deception and uncomfortable at her own situation; but the hostess had ordered a supper of the unsatisfactory kind usual In such places; little as she liked the prospect, she could not leave at once. The meal was interrupted regularly each time the music played, for danc ing was more than a fad In this set— it was a serious business with which nothing was allowed to Interfere. There wns considerable drinking. Bergman, who devoted himself assidu ously to his employee, showing more effect from it than the others. As the night wore on he became more and more offensive; he grew coarse In a sly, tentative manner, as If .feeling his ground. He changed the manner of his dancing, also, until Lorelei could no longer tolerate him. “Getting tired, my dear?" he queried, when she declined to join the whirling throng. “Yes. I want to go.” “Still on Amsterdam avenue?” “No. I'm living alone=—now.” Bergman started, his eyes bright ened. “Ah! Then you’ve come to your senses finally. Merkle fixed it—eh? I can do more for you than Merkle can." “Merkle?” She eyed him coolly. “Oh, play your game with strangers, but don’t put me off. Weren’t you caught with him at the Chateau? Well, j then—” “You needn't finish. I'm going home 1 uuw. He laid a detaining hand upon her arm. "You never learned that speech in one of my shows,” he said, "and you're not going to say good night to me. Understand?” He grinned at her I with disgusting confidence, and she 1 flung off his touch. The returning dancers offered a welcome diversion. Ix>relei dreaded an open clash with the manager, knowing that the place, the hour and the conditions were ill suited to a scene. She had learned j to smile and to consider swiftly, to cross the thin ice of an embarrassing ! situation with light steps. Quiekly j she turned to Mrs. Thompson-Bellaire. who was bowing effusively to a new- j comer. "My word! What is Bob Wharton j doing here?” exclaimed the widow. "Bob Wharton? Where?” Miss Wy eth’s languor vanished electrically; she Wrenched her attention from the wire haired fraternity man at her side. Lo relei felt a sense of great thanksgiving. Mrs. Thompson-Bellaire beckoned, and Wharton came forward, his eyes i fixed gloomily upon Lorelei. “You rascal! So this is how you waste your evenings. I am surprised, but, now that we've caught you, won’t you join us?” Wharton glanced at the four pawns and hesitated. “It's long past nine; I’m afraid the boys will be late for school.” ♦< v ►J Will Bob Wharton rescue her from Bergman only to force his "J >eur Mabel, do you love me?" “Oh, George!" ‘"Don’t you. Mabel? Just a tiny lit tle bit?” •‘W-e-Il, y-e-s. George.” ‘‘And would your mother keep away front ns, except when I invited tier?” “She would. George.” “And your brothers and sisters, too?” “Why, certainly, George.” “And, of course, the old gent would settle my debts?" “Of course. George." "Darling, will you marry me?" “No, George!” Ali Gone. “Blinks doesn't seem to have much snap In him any more.” “No; he used to have so much snap in him that now he’s broke.” Many a man sacrifices his principle to success, and considers that he is , getting It cheap at that. Capital and labor are icipossi'