STELLA DALLAS
Hy Olive Higgins Prouty.
M NOP8I8.
\fter sewn years separation Stella
DhIIhn In requested by lier husband’s at
torney to iret a divorce on the ground
of desertion. When she refuses "he Is
told tlie alternnatiie will be an Hctlon In
which she will be charged with In moral
conduct with Alfred Munn. an old admirer,
from whom she received attention while
her daughter. Laurel. 13. was visiting her
father. Stephen Dallas. In New York. She
indignantly denies wrongdoing ami de
clares she will fight. Stephen In desirous
of freedom so that he may marry Helen
Alorrison. a widow.
(Continued from lesterday.)
“Thank heavens for lawyers. I say
dow. Gracious! I’d never have
thought myself of getting something
«*ii yoTt, Stephen, but my lawyer has
been right onto his Job. lie s been
down there to New York, and he
says that I've got as much grounds to
do a little naming as you have. So
if you want a divorce. Stephen, go
ahead and dig up Ed Munn. and 1 11
dig up Helen Morrison and we ll give
the public something worth reading.
Of course, T, myself, don t want a
divorce. There's nobody I want to
marry. I'd see myself dead rather
than tied up to Ed Munn. And I can’t
see that it's any advantage to a
woman with a daughter she’s got to
bring out in society to be a gratis
widow. I’d just rather have you in
New York on business, the way
you’ve always been. I've taken an
apartment in Boston now. and by
the time Laurel’s old enough to come
out, it may strike me as a good idea
to have her father in the background
somewheres, when we give her a hall
at one of the big hotels. Mr. Hinek
ly. my lawyer, says you’d probably
want to do about anything I want
i von to, just so I don’t show up your
I iittie affair with that pretty widow
I down there in New York. My! But
1 think lawyers are clever. I cer
l^^jjfcinly take off my hat to Mr.
■^^Jlinekly.”
* It was Helen's sweet voice saying,
£ “Yrou have had a difficult day, Ste
phen. I’m so sorry,” that called Ste
f phen back to a brief glimpse of heav
j en again.
1 Tie looked at her long and quietly.
Then he said, "Helen, l gave you lip
years ago, because I felt I could
bring you nothing but shame. I must
give you up again for the same rea
son.’*
CHAPTER XVT.
1.
A new venture always acted upon
Stella like fresh soil in a garden upon
seeds. It brought our renewed effort
and vigor. An experiment untried
possessed all the possibilities of suc
cess. Stella never considered failure
until It was demonstrated. Even then
she would not accept it as such—In
variably searching for some hidden
•advantage in her various disappoint
ments and rebuffs. Even when she
had the daunting situation of a
forced exile to face, she kept right
on spinning her thread of optimism
like a spider rudely ejected from her
web, falling dizzily at first, but quick
ly recovering herself and fastening
her* slender cable to the first solid
support that offered Itself.
“You never can tell," she said to
Effle McDavitt. “It may be the best
thing in the world that ever happened
that there wasn’t any room for lau
rel at Mlfjs Flllibrown's this year,
and that I’ve got. to get out of the
King Arthur. J'd gotten Into the
way1 of thinking that the sun rose and
set In Milhampton aociety. I’m go
ing to take an apartment round Bos
ton somewheres! A housekeeping
apartment. Lollle is just crazy to
havfe a home of our own. so she can
entertain,’ and I guess it's high time.
Mercy, I just wish I'd had sense
^Uto^nough get °'it of Milhampton be
The town -has always had it in
for Laurel and me, ever since Ste
phen cleared out.”
Stella didn’t know anything about
ipnftments in Boston She didn’t
tnow anything about where “the
right place was to live,” nor “whom
he right people were to know," nor
which was the “right church,” nor
lie "right school.” Her knowledge
■>f Boston was confined to the shop
ping district.
. ‘Hut that's where this flare-up with
Stephen comes in handy,” she told
EM*. Before I had to dig up a
awyer to defend me against that
rforjey Smith creature, I didn't have
i soul in Boston to ask advice about
lesifable locations, and desirable
schools and things, that you have
to Know ;n>out to start right in any
lew place.”
Mr. Joseph Hinckly. of the Arm of
Hinckly, Jones & Hinckly, became
‘n {itella more than a mere legal
adviser. His knowledge of Boston
was somewhat conflnerfc too, although
not to the same district as Stella’s.
» However, lie never hesitated to give
her ns authoritative opinion on any
subject If she asked for it. That was
instinctive with him.
When Stella inquired. 'Common
wealth avenue's one of the best resi
dential streets, isn't it?" lie Imd as
sured her there was nothing to com
pare with it this side of Riverside
drive.
“Well, I’ve found an apartment on
Commonwealth avenue, way out be
yond the thousands, and its front
windows are Just flooded with sun
shine.” '
S“Snap it up quick,” exclaimed Mr.
Hinckly. “The sunny side of Com
^11/
The most comfortable, popu
lar and convenient article of (
furniture for a home is the
Day Bed.
14 Styles to 1
Choose From
Our Pricea, Complete With
Cotton Felt Mattreaa
$19, $21, $23, $34
1916 Farnam Si.
Don’t Skid
Cadillac Four-Wheel
Safety Brake> Prevent
Skidding. Try Them
0 Today.
r
J. H. Hansen Cadillac Co.
HA. 0710. Farnam St. at 26th
monwealth avenue! Great Scott! You
can't do better than that!”
Mr. Hinckl.v was fully aware that
Ihe distance between one and one
thousand In some instances, in some
streets, is ns great as between one
side of the globe and the other. (He
himself had been born at the wrong
end of a fashionable street, lie once
said In a political speech). Hut he
was also fully aware that hisVlient
might live in the very heart of the
Hack Bay and barriers more forbid
ding than space would prevent her
from ever crossing its thresholds.
Stella moved into hei tlve-roomed
furnished apartment just before
Christmas. She still possessed some
of the old knack in copying depart
ment store window effects. Hut it
had been a long time since she had
had "her eye out for that sort of
thing." With no one guide her,
anrif the matter of expense a constant
argument for the cheaper article, her
results were not successful. As Lau
rel gazed upon the slowly growing
tawdriness of tlie apartment, the joy
she thought she would feel in invit
ing the vague new friends her moth
er told her she would make in her
new environment, once they got set
tled, began to fade.
The living room was famished in
mission of the Royeroft style—big
oak chairs with leather cushions; a
rectangular couch, leather-cushioned
also; a table (hat was strong enough
to be used for a carpenter s bench.
And all in spite of the fact of a two
toned light-green, satin-finished wall
paper of the 18!)0 "parlor period,”
and an ivory-tinted mantel, which,
mongrel though It was. showed more
strain of Adam than of Elbert Hub
bard.
Stella put yellow flowered cretonne
at the windows. She told Laurel that
she had seen a colored picture of a
mission room In a magazine with yel
low flmvcred cretonne foe bangings,
and it was perfectly stunning: Sh*
knew where she could get some yei
low flowered cretonne for only 9S
rents a card ns elTectite ns linen at
$6.50. But the hanging^ did not make
the room right. I.aurel felt con
vinced at last that the room would
never be right.
pne afternoon, when her mother
was out shopping, she tried to give
it just a little of the mine look that
Mrs. Morrison gave her rooms. But
it was hopeless. Afterwards she
wandered through the apartment gas
lug upon All its details with despair
ing eyes.
The kitchenette with its piled-up
breakfast and dinner dishes waiting
for their nightly washing (.Stella kept
no maid, and she had her own way of
keeping house), suggested to Laurel
little of the homlness of Mrs- Morri
son's big roomy kitchen, basking in
the afternoon warmth of a great
black stove, the table spread with a
bright red cloth, and a cheerful,
broad-faced clock ticking lazily on the
mantel.
The Boston apartment was very
little like the ‘‘home all of our own”
of Laurel's dreams. There was no
garden. There was no lawn. There
was no front door with a knocker,
and a single bell. The only differ
ence, as far as Laurel could see, be
tween an apartment and a hotel was
that you ate your meals In your own
rooms instead of downstairs,' and it
wasn't againHt the rules to use the
gas for cooking.
*>
Laurel didn't like Boston. She
didn't know of a single winding river
over which to glide upon skates. In
and out among alder bushes; nor of a
single hare hillside, white with the
first snowfall, down which to fly Into
the sunset, upon skiis; nor of any
stone wall to follow for pussy willows
in March;! nor rocky pasture land nor
rough woodland, to steal away to, all
alone; in April. In search of trailing
arhu(us.
She didn't know of any corner
store where stationery was sold and
pencil boxes and return halls and
jackstones. and gumarops. »r\en toi
,"i cents, and cocoa nut cakes, three
for two. She didn’t know of any
hump-hacked cobbler, whose tiny
shop smelled deliciously of leather
and was such a cheery place tu visit
when school was over and her moth
er was out. Jake, the hump-hacked
cobbler, would bow and boh at her
like a Hip Van Winkle dwarf, when
ever she came Into his little box, and
sweep off a place with his grimy
shirt sleeve for her to sit down upon,
and chuckle and spit, and tell her
stories about what his father used
to do when he was drunk.
Laurel missed Jake. She missed
Tony, too—the black haired, olive
skinned young Greek, who kept a
fruit store, and Rave her a plum or
a pear, or a banana, not the least
hit rotten, when she went to see
him; and, smiling showing Ills beau
tiful white teeth, told her about the
lovely dark girl in Athens, waiting
for him to send her a ticket to come
to America and marry him.
Most of all, perhaps, she missed
Miss Thomas, the kind, wrinkled
raced, quiet-voiced librarian at the
Mllhampton Public library, who let
her wander «it will, alone, among the
book stacks, and take out and put
back any volume she pleased without
asking.
She believed she hated the libra
rian at the public library to which
| Mr. Hinckly directed her. On her
first day there the librarian had spok
en to Laurel and made her blush with
shame. Laurel had never used a
card catalogue before. It hadn’t been
necessary with Miss Thomas. Tn her
engrossed Interest tn the myriads of
varying titles she had drawn out
and piled on the tabte beside her
at least a dozen of the little draw
ers that contained the luring cards.
Suddenly somebody at her elbow
exclaimed, “You mustn't do that!”
Laurel gave a little startled Jump.
She had been a thousand miles away.
"It’s not necessary to remove but
one drawer at a time." There w as
displeasure in her voice.
I,aurel flushed.
The librarian began returning the
drawers to their places with empha
tic little Jerks an.) shove? Then,
glancing at Laurel sharply, site ir
marked, "Why. you've picked them
from A to What book is it you're
hunting for. anyway?"
(Continued In The Mernlna Bee.
Martha
PROBLEMS THAT PERPLEX.
□ HAVE never glvi n him a chance
to think that I love him and
now lie Is Indifferent," writes
D. L O. "l-ast year we wrote nice,
common love letters and I know he
cared for me then, but does he now?
How am I going to find out and let
him know of this love?"
Lack of encouragemerft does hurt
some persons, D. L, O., but I hardly
think you gave him the cold shoulder
when you were writing those "com
mon” love letters.
By the way, what do you mean by
common letters? Is love becoming
-urh an ordinary thing that letters
are of a uniform kind, are almost
like the form letters sent out by
business houses? Surely you don’t
mean that love is so (heap as dis
played in letters that it Is common,
lane is supposed to strike each 'Ic
tim differently, so Is far from com
mon.
You are the best judge as to the
extent of this injjn's regard for you.
If he has stopped his letters lo you
and doesn't call it is very apparent
his attention has been distracted.
There Is no need of racking your
train as to how you are going to find
out if he still loves you when he
gives proof by neglect.
Bravely accept his friendship and
be content With that and that only.
You can't very well ^switch a man
from the path he has chosen unless
you have persuasive powers. In try
ing to do this yon might make him
lose all respect for you. You had
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letter keep his good opinion of you
now tlmn to chauge it by a foolish
These Pampered One*.
< base.
Dear Martha Allen: My husband
nml I read the paper and were amused
at Mrs. A. K.'s indignant, attitude to
waid tier neighbor. As my husband
wishes me to write what he dictates,
It is as follows:
After reading the article In your
column in which Mrt. A. It. stated
| that she was so disguested with her
.neighbor who submits to pampering by
her husband, I cannot hold my feel
ing against her. What is her Interest
i> h<-r neighbor's affairs, anyhow?
Does she pay this neighbor s hills? If
i ret, why worry?
| .Should she kick because in all prob
lability tier neighbor Is treating his
.wife like a human being? Maybe she
I is jealous because said neighbor is
i being treated better than she. I might
add that this is 1!>?4, not 1700. Those
hard-working days for women are
past. .
I am a young married man niyeeir
find believe in treating a wife like a
paf. In fact, I Bet my own breakfast,
and sometimes «ew- on my own but
tons. I ant satisfied. I might also say
that I am the father of two children.
I have a hunch that X know the
writer, A. It.
The letter I have Just finished sal
dictated by my husband. _ I'd like to
see Mrs. A. It. myself. Poor woman,
she is worried about other people's af
fairs. She can’t find time to attend to
her own.
A PAMPERED WIFE AND HER
HUSBAND.
Thanks for the letter. Opinion* are
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