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Planters' Punch


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Planters' Punch
Physical Description:
Herbert G. deLisser
Planters' Punch
Place of Publication:
Kingston: Jamaica
Creation Date:


Subjects / Keywords:
Periodicals   ( lcsh )
serial   ( sobekcm )
Spatial Coverage:

Record Information

Source Institution:
National Library of Jamaica ( SOBEK page | external link )
Holding Location:
National Library of Jamaica ( SOBEK page | external link )
Rights Management:
All rights reserved by the source institution.
Resource Identifier:
nlj - P57
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Jamaica's Foremost Ironmongers & Lumber Merchants


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The m
animal '..' u flMIEL&LHJIL complex

r&ar .S &t E Ploug

r a c t o r .4 -, R Wt S e r v i<
.... .-,S e rv i

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Sub Soilers

in Heavy

and Light










STORE 2187
DEPT. 2874
WHARF 2571








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^t^ak JVAfmEn S^EE ^JiZLJ Ocgn WuELf

CREATIVE genius and inspired craftsmanship have endowed
certain Products with the mantle of leadership.... and the honour
of their names is jealously guarded.

Even as water seeks its own level, the makers of these great
Products seek distribution only through retail institutions of the
highest reputation.

It is only natural that Kingston's three ISSA shops have been
chosen to represent in Jamaica many of the world's most famous
names...confirming the standing which they have earned through
years of conscientious service to the people of Jamaica.




Kingston's Three Smart Shops, Owned And Operated by E. A. ISSA & BRO., LTD.

Vol. IV No. IV.



MIXED BY For the year 1941-1942

rantham and


Col. Sec.

They both disprove popular beliefs --

The changes occurring from day to day, with a swiftness never before experienced, cause
things written about in one month to become very different a few weeks hence.
However, with regard to this sketch of Mrs. Grantham and our late Colonial Secretary.
everything that is iaid holds true at this moment, though they are both on their way to Nigeria,
where Mr. Grantham will fill the post of Chief or Colonial Secretary, a higher post than ht
occupied in Jamaica.
We think that tecnn:eally he remains Coltnial Secretary of Jamaica until he arrives in
Nigeria but of this we cannot be certain. Nor does it matter In so far as the purpose of this
valedictory sketch is concerned. So he is now referred to as our late Colonial Secretary.
Mr. and Mrs. Granthom were much liked and appreciated here-Mr. Grantham was liked
even by those who differed from him now and again on public questions. They were both
gentlefolk-and it is desirable that persons filling high positions in British Colonies should be
that. The public, we are satisfied, will be glad of this brief portraiture of their life and
activities while they were still in Jamaica.

Mrs. Grantham that the American lives
in a perpetual state of hustle, and Mr.
Grantham that a high Government
official does little if any work

THE popular notion is that every American, man
or woman, is a hustler. But Mrs. (rantham. the
wife of Jamaica's late Colonial Secretary, is a lady
of fine poise, who goes about her household and other
duties effectively; a most likeable personality, one
who wins the hearts of all with whom she comes
into contact by her simplicity and charm.
SHE does not hustle; as a matter of fact the Am-
erican hustles far less than he is given discredit
for doing, unless of course in the moving pictures.
In that arena he is always shouting. she is always
drawing a revol-
ver or defying
something or the
other; and both
he and she are as
untrue to aver-
age American life
as anything can
possibly be. In
any case too the
better classes of
America are too
well bred ever to
conform to the
current erroneous
ideas of American
life; and if Am-
ericans and Eng-
lish people hit it
off very well to-
gether, that is be-
cause they are
very much alike.
Mrs. Grantham is
an American. She
is one who loves
her native land
and is proud of
it. But also she
loves England and
is proud of it:
she is the wife of
an Englishlinun.
she has lived in
such British t:Il-
onies as Hong
Kong, Bermuda
and Jamaica; and
everywhere she
has been she has
fitted in with the
British people of
the country and
has breathed
easily the prevail.
Ing British at-
mosphere. .

AT Mrs. Grantham's house one met Americans,
English. Canadians. Jamaicans. Down at his of-
fice In the afternoon the CA3l-lal S rr.tary was at
work; at Vale Royal. his home, almost every after-
noon, his wife had some social engagement or meet-
ing: and if this was not at home it was somewhere
else. She undertook a re'll) large number of social
efforts, and this she did thronili a sense of duty.
"Planters' Punch" enquired of her once how she
spent an average diy Her reply was that her day
usually starts at about seven in the morning, when
she spends about an hour doing sonme serious reading.
She did not mention whether this reading included
the newspapers or whether she took the newspapers
seriously; the suggestion as to serious reading seem-
ed to refer only to books, many of the latest of which
are sent to her from America or England: it tacitly
referred the papers and magazines to the limbo of
the frivolous, where indeed they mostly belong. Mrs.
Grantham has breakfast with her husband after this:


when he leaves for work she Interviews her cook and
butler. answers the telephone herself as much as pos-
sible, and deals with letters; which means that often
she is at her correspondence for several hours.
ONE did not often see Mrs. Granthanm n lower
Kingston. in our chopping centre; she avoided
going there as much as possible. She found a morn-
ing in KIngston fatiguing. what she loved much bet-
ter is to spend some time in her garden, but she had
little leisure for that. She told us that "I find that
if I do not give careful instructions to my gardeners
as to what is to be done, the garden does not get on
well, and so I speak to the gardeners myself. Be-
sides, it gives me so much pleasure to see how things
are getting on. It is very tempting to spend more
time than I should in the garden, but I have to be
very firm with myself about it."
IN the picture on this page one sees Mrs. Grantham
sitting in her drawing room beside a young lady;
a resemblance be-
tween the two
will at once be
noticed. T h I s
young lady is Am-
erican-born like
Mrs. Grantham;
she is Mrs. Mo-
Bride, a niece of
Mrs. Grantham.
On another page
will be seen the
photograph of an-
other lady in a
chair; this lady,
Mrs. W. R. Scott,
is Mrs. Grant-
ham's sister.
Here then we
have three Amer-
ican ladies, two
of whom are now
technically Brit-
ish, for M r .
Scott is the wife
of an important
British official in
Hong Kong. Mrs.
Grantham's niece
goes to visit her
every now and
then. There is
also another niece
who has been
more than once
in Jamaica. Al
these ladies are
highly intelligent,
w ell educated,
with very definite
views on interest-
Ing matters; if
living people can
represent, as of
course they can,
a real, essential
9AT VAL ROYAL Anglo American
unity, Mrs. Grant-





ham and her family do so in a superlative degree.
All of them have an abiding love for England.

THE Granthams do a good deal of quiet entertain-
ing. It was no very definite aim on their part,
but in actual fact they did bring together Americans
and Britishers in their home. It has, indeed, been
said on more than one occasion by those who ought
to know that Mrs. Grantham consciously exerted her-
self to assist the Government of Jamaica, not mere-
ly by taking part in functions of a popular nature,
but by being particularly nice to individuals not con-
nected with official circles. This may seem a trivial
thing. as a matter of fact it is not. For it is aston-
ishing how far personal courtesy, syinpathy and un-
derstanding can go in making friends for an Admin-
istration so long as the note of sincerity is struck
and is maintained.

W E do not think Mrs. Grantham needs to
exert herself to be sincere. She is naturally
so. Insincerity is soon detected. no one can have
lived in a country for over three years, and have
met and mixed with large numbers of persons, with-
out that individual's true disposition and attitude
having been displayed again and again. Now, it is be-
yond dispute that Mrs. Grantham was more esteemed,
better liked, more cordially regarded in 1941 than
when she was but three months in the island, and
more so in 1941 than when she was here for only a
year. She won to this place in the hearts and opin-
ions of people because of what is enduringly true in
her personality. One cannot doubt that she is proud
of the great role assumed by her country in this war:
she would not be a good American were it otherwise.
One may indeed regard her
as a missionary of what there
is of best in American wo-
manhood. Also as an example
of what is best in the wo-
manhood of our British offi-

A ND now let us say some-
thing about Mr. Gran-
tham in his official capacity.
When an outbreak of war
between England and Ger-
many was momently expect-
ed the Jamaica Government
became more than ordinarily
busy. It was then, perhaps,
that the Colonial Secretary
of Jamaica, the Hon. A. G.
Grantham, C.M.G., had the
busiest and most hectic time
of his life.

M ANY prohibitions were
issued. It was forbid-
den. for instance, that cer-
tain areas and places should
be visited by members of the
public not authorized to do
so by the police. Thus you
could not enter King's House,
the Governor's residence,
without police authorization
that. at any rate, was the
theory. In practice no one
had ever entered King's
House without having some HON. A. W.
sort of business to perform;
but even with war expected. and after the out-
break of war, no one thought of asking the police
for permission to visit King's House. A sentry
was placed at the gate of this official residence, and
that was about all; on the other hand the Colonial
Secretary's house was not made exempt from unau-
thorised visitation. Presumably, one could enter it
at will. But no one did, except for special purpose;
hence the Colonial Secretary could continue as usual
to work in comparative peace at home, and more
so there than in his office at Headquarters House
in the town, where he was constantly beset by call-
ers and interrupted momently by the ringing of the

HIH belief still lingers in this country that the
higher the Government officer the less he has to
do; and no doubt if a man, even a Colonial Secre-
try, is on the lazy side, he can escape some of the
chores of his Job. But there is some risk in doing
this; anyhow, Mr. Grantham never dreamt of do-
ing it. He is naturally a worker; he is also, quietly.
an ambitious man who looked for further promotion
in the Colonial Service. A barrister by profession,
his mind has been trained by reading law; a tactful
person by disposition, he has improved this natural
trait of his by consistently subduing his temper to
the requirements of maintaining harmony with those
with whom he has to deal. People speak of him
as polite; this writer has seen him lose his temper
only once, and even then that temper did not get
far or badly lost. In fact, if one had not known
him one would not have known that his temper was
at all ruffled. If he has to make a public denounce-
ment of anything said by anyone, that is done deli-

berately, as a part of his business. He will refer
to "traitors" in quite biting terms, but there is no
malice in such an outbreak; there is considered po-
liRt. and the next day he will confer with any per-
son or persons who may regard themselves as hav-
ing been traitorously attacked without the slightest
show of feeling or venom. Yesterday he did his
duty; today he will do his duty also, though it is to
be friendly and even helpful to a public opponent.
He tries su ctessfull. to prevent personal f1'Cling from
influencing him in his work.

itLE.'. he has not a manner that will attract you
in spite of yourself. This is usually known as
"charm of manner" and too often is allied with ut-
ter insincerity. One never found our late Colonial
Sec-retary either charmingly or gushingly insincere;
he is rather definite and precise, practical and dis-
creet: one wonders whether he will be just the same
as he now is when he becomes a Governor. He will
not be quite the same. No Colonial Secretary is
the same as the man become a Governor. The wise
Colonial Secretary recognizes that while he is the co-
ordinating head of all the Government Departinents.
the Governor's Chief of Staff so to speak, there is
one above him on whom rests the ultimate respon-
sibility for all that is done by Government, and to
whose decisions, therefore, every man in Government
service must defer. Hence it would never do for
him to differ repeatedly with his chief, since that
would mean friction and mutual annoyance and
failure. When a Governor he will make his own
decisions while a Chief Secretar. he must en-
deavour to carry out conscientiously the decisions of
the Governor under whom he serves. This may mean


at times the suppression of one's own personality:
but it may also be good discipline. Mr. Grantham
has disciplined himself; but he must upon occasion
take a view different from that of his chief, and put
it plainly to the latter. For that, too, is part of his
T HE Colonial Secretary is supposed to go to work
at about ten o'clock every day. Mr. Grantham
got down to his ...'Ue at about nine, unless he had
to be at Kings allouseA aiTy In the day for a confer-
ence with the GO...rnor. He rises early, makes his
toilet, presumably reads a newspaper, disagrees with
much that he reads, despatches some work, then has
breakfast around a quarter past eight. After he
leaves home he would not be seen there again until
late in the afternoon or evening, except on Satur-
day, which is an official half-day. He lunched in
his office when the Iiegslative Council was not sitting.
at the Jamaica Club when it was; he eats lightly dur-
ing the day and has dinner at any old time at his
residence. Dinner at the Granthams' I have heard
described as "a movable meal." For if he had an
Interview or a conference or work of some sort to
attend to downtown he might not arrive at Vale Roy-
al until half-past eight or nine o'clock at night. All
during the day he has been seeing heads of depart-
ments as well as members of the public: and has
been reading official papers. Every Departnment
sends in its reports to the Colonial Secretary in the
first instance; all the reports that are important
are transmitted by him to the Governor after he has
digested them and perhaps made suggestions or re-
commendations in regard to some of them. These
recommendations or suggest ons of his carried
weight. They came from the Colonial Secretary.

T five o'clock in the afternoon the visitors ceased
more or less to call, the telephone to ring, and a
period of quiet ensued in the Colonial Secretary's
Office. It was then that Mr. Grantham could almost
uninterruptedly peruse the "files" laid before him
and also learn what different members of the Col-
onial Secretary's Staff had been doing earlier in the
day. Some of this "paper" work completed, he
went home to finish off the rest. He might be at
this night work from (on the average) about nine
o'clock until eleven, when he called it a day and went
to bed. But if the Council was sitting-and the Coun-
cil loves to sit-he had little time for work at his
office. He must be for three days of the week in the
Council Chamber listening to debates, taking part
in them. leading the Government's forces, repelling
attack upon Government. And for three weeks or
more in the course of the year he had to attend the
meetings of the Finance Committee, whose outstand-
ing characteristic is that it knows nothing about
finance. The Legislative Council and Finance Com-
mittee now last some four months of the year or
longer, and during this time the elected members
put questions to the Government on all sorts of sub-
jects, Some of these questions are important, others
do not seem quite to reach such a level. One sus-
pects that the Colonial Secretary often found it a
relief merely to say, "the answer is in the negative,"
and thus to close the case.
MR. GRANTHAM had often to give merely nega-
tive answers in the Council, yet there he was
liked and kindly regarded by most, perhaps by all,
of the elected members. The maintenance of such
cordial relations with the elected members, by a Colo-
nial Secretary, is not so un-
important as the uninformed
may imagine. As a general
rule it is part of the tech-
nique of the elected side of the
Council to throw a world of
blame upon the Colonial Sec-
retary, which of course pre-
vents them from venting their
anger upon the Governor.
The feeling is that the King's
representative, who is, in a
manner of speaking, the
Lord's anointed, should be
treated with respect; but
as the Colonial Secretary
has not been anointed yet,
and someone must bear the
burden of criticism. it is
upon the head of that func-
tionary that the vials of
political wrath are very often
poured. One noticed a change
since Mr. Grantham became
Jamaica's Colonial Secretary.
I think he has been criticized
less in Council than any man
holding his position for more
than three years during the
last forty years. That he has
been almost exempt from the
slings and arrows of elected
members is something note-
worthy. And you cannot
say that this is because the
elected members do not un-
JAMAICA derstand their business: it
does not require much un-
derstanding to give another man Hail Colombia. In-
deed the less understanding, the louder the Hail.
T IE public did not see as much of him as did
Ithe 'Council: but he did open bridges (when
there are any to open), and was asked to make pre-
sentations when anybody was to receive some words
of thanks. His speeches on such occasions were
brief; he did not wish to be conspicuous in the public
eye or to draw all men after him. He did not like
public dinners: here is where the war has been kind
to him, for since its outbreak the number of such
functions has decreased considerably in all countries.
Meanwhile the Colonial Secretary did attend to his
work in the Council. or to acquainting himself
with all that the departments were doing or (accord-
ing to the critics) were leaving undone, and did see
that the proclamations issued by Governor, Food
Controller, Finance Control Board and the like ap-
peared. when they should, and so forth.
OR mark you, while the Colonial Secretary does
not interfere in the working of our several
special Boards and Departments, they have to refer
to him or to the Governor any new departure they
propose to make, or to submit for approval any new
policy they would initiate. I once asked Mr. Gran-
thalm, when he was still in Jamaica, how he man-
aged to get through all his work. He answered,
"needs must when the devil drives." I suspect that
the devil was the circumstances prevailing Yet.
when all is said, a Colonial Secretary who is still
young, who may legitimately look forward to promo-
tion, who has a sense of duty, who is energetic, who
likes most of his work, may be considered a happy
man. At least, he would probably be unhappy were
he not doing what he is.





M YRTLE'S eyes swept the whicl
garden with a sharp, critic-
al glance; then she called to
the boy who functioned as
occasional chauffeur, car-washer and gardener, and
whose melancholy countenance suggested that he
would much rather be none of these things but mere-
ly a gentleman with a small, independent income -
just sufficient for the bare necessaries of life and to
render labour for one's livelihood unimperativve.
"Charles," said Myrtle with emphasis. "didn't
I tell you yesterday to dig up those dahlias? Don't
you see they are dying?"
"Yes, Miss Myrtle. you did tell me so," conceded
the melancholy Charles. looking at the expiring
shrubs as though they were responsible for much
of his unhappiness in life.
"Then why didn't you do as I told you"''
".Well. Miss Myrtle, de trute is that de car had
to wash, an' I was weeden up a new flower bed, an'
so I thoughted as I would put it off till today."
"Charles. why will you always refuse to obey
an order when it is given to you? Eh? I suppose
you want a man to speak to you! Well, my father
is going to speak to you now! Papa!"
Myrtle's voice rang out Imperatively, and Mr.
Broglle, who had heard every word of the colloquy
between his daughter and Charles, rose slowly out
of the rocking chair in which he had been enjoying
his Sunday morning's rest and came on to the front
verandah of his residence in the Mountain-slope
Avenue. Had he dared he would have pretended not
to have heard Myrtle's call; but such pretence would
not have deceived her and would only have laid him
open to a caustic reproach as to his failure to rise
to his responsibilities as head of the household and
the employer and master of Charles.
In his heart he sa mpathised with Charles; the
young fellow had had other things to do. and it did
not seem to Mr. Broglie to matter a row of pins
whether the dahlias had been dug up the day before
or not. But Myrtle felt that orders were orders, and
her father knew that she was right. In principle.
But he did wish sometimes that she would make
large allowances in practice. as he was the mor in-
clined to do the older that he grew. This, however,
he did not suggest to Myrtlr Mr. Brighle had be-
come a firm believer In the peaceful life. and the
line of least resistance.
Standing on the verandah he looked enquiringly
at Myrtle as it for instructions.
"You heard what I said to Charles. papa; please
speak to him."
"Yes." exclaimed Mr. Broglle with quite spurious
emphasis: "yre. Charles must be spoken to unequiv-
ocally. Charles! How often am I to tell you al-
ways to do what Miss Myrtle says at once? Why
didn't you wash down the car-I mean remove those
dead flowers yesterday? Do you think I have
nothing else to do but to tell you what to do?"
Charles gazed at Mr. Broglie with a mild eye,
not at all impressed by that gentleman's rhetoric.
Charles was afraid of Myrtle. and also secretly
devoted to her. He guessed that Mr. Broglie too
was afraid of his daughter, while proud of and
entirely attached to her. But he, Charles, was not
afraid of Mr. Broglie, and dimly wondered why Miss
Myrtle should Imagine that any man could compel
prompter obedience than she. As a matter of fact
he had forgotten yesterday her order about the
dahlias, otherwise it would have been obeyed. He
frequently forgot things which it might be inconven-
ient to remember, things involving immediate appli.
cation of energy. He did not answer Mr. Brog-
lie, having really nothing to say to that gentleman.
but moved with slow and deliberate steps towards
the dahlia bed. At that moment he disapproved of
dahlias. Most certainly he disapproved of having
to work on them. But there seemed to be no alter-
Mr. Broglie, having asserted his authority as
bidden to do, slipped back inside to resume his
rocking-chair and his perusal of yesterday's news-
paper. He looked upon Sunday as rightly ordained
to be a day of rest. But sometimes Myrtle had
other views as to how Sunday should be spent, and
Mr. Broglle was now hoping that those views would
not be expressed this morning. After all, he felt,
he had just spoken to Charles quite sharply, and it
would not be fair for Myrtle to demand anything
more from him that day.
Mr. Broglie was a man of about fifty-five years
of age. stout, yellowish of complexion, jovial. He had
succeeded in the world. A printer or typesetter in
his youth, he had risen to be a foreman and then to
be the proprietor of a job-printery with a couple of

aica Story of the present day, in

h the life of a Kingston Young

Lady is graphically depicted
"I suppose the



author of

"The White Witch of Rosehall,"
"Under the Sun," etc.

linotype machines, three or four small modern
printing presses, and the other adjuncts of a busi-
ness like his. He knew how to do the work him-
self, therefore he saw to it that his assistants did it
well: and by giving satisfaction he had acquired a
valuable reputation and clientele. He may not have
been aware of it, but in his upward struggle he had
been greatly assisted by his wife. She had always
tactfully urged him to give of his best, had lavished
praise upon him which had pleased his vanity and
encouraged him to rise. She was ambitious: as her
children came they had had three -she had pic-
tured for them a finer future than would have ap-
peared possible to most persons In Mr. Broglie's
position some thirty years ago. Thus she had kept
her husband's imagination alight, and as he was a
good father he had set himself to work strenuously
for his children's benefit. The youngest was Myrtle.
She was twenty-one, having been born a month after
the end of the first world war. And from the time
that she was fifteen .Myitie had not only taken for
granted everything that her parents had achieved,
but had shown quite clearly that she expected more
and still more from them, and that she did not con-
sider that they had accomplished half enough. She
was critical; her mother listened to her criticisms
with a i-.signation that bordered on indifference;
her father winced under them. And now he usually
did what Myrile considered right.
Not that Myrtle was a shrew or bad-tempered.
She was neither. Hers was a quick, dominating
temperament, and she was inclined to view her
mother and father as rather slow and old-fashioned.
She was tall. slim, energetic, and more ambitious
than even her mother had been. Her father had
at least sixty per cent of European -English--blood
in him; perhaps a little more. Her mother was
what was known as a dark sambo, that is, one
with about one-fourth of white blood in one's com-
position, which mixture showed itself more in her
features and the texture of her hair than in her
complexion. In her youth Myrtle's mother had been
accustomed to speak of herself as black. She no
longer did so. She was now a coloured lady who
never alluded to her past; none of her children had
ever learnt that she once had been a little servant
girl in Kingston. Her husband knew it, but was
discreetfly silent on the subject. He believed in let-
ting the dead past bury its dead.
Myrtle stood on the verandah of her home clad
in wide pyjamas of soft pink material which could
not disguise the uprightness and suppleness of her
figure. She was rich bronze in colour, with skin
of a fine texture, thick hair which she wore bobbed
according to the fashion of the day, and with a
fringe that covered a well formed, intelligent fore-
head. Her eyes were of a sparkling black; her nose
fairly salient, the tip slightly and prettily upturned.
with nostrils showing sensitiveness and pride. Her
chin was rounded and firm; her expression merry
and alternatively impetuous and cautious. A strik-
ing feminine personality. She knew it, she knew
that men admired her, that her girl friends usually
yielded to her will. She was also well aware that
in the house she was boss when she chose to be so.
She loved this sense of power, but usually was too
wise to attempt to rule too often.
She watched Charles as with gradual movement,
as thoulghi eternity were his, he pruo< ieded to root out
the flowers that were failing to live. Charles, aware
that Miss M.yrtl-'s eye was upon him, would have
put more energy into his exertions had it not been
Sunday and had not all energetic effort revolted his
sense of the proprieties: like Mr. Broglie, he strong-
ly held that the Sabbath was a day of rest on which
one should do no manner of work; hence he was
now particularly disposed to be as leisurely as pos-
sible even under the compelling gaze of the im-
perious young lady. "See that you finish taking

them all out before you do an-
other thing," she commanded,
and in the tone of a Christian
martyr facing the lions (if
Christians ever spoke at such a
time) he answered
Yr ma'am."
car is ready?" she asked.

"I wash it late yesterday, Miss Myrtle, so it
mus' be all right."
"I hope so, for I am going to church."
"Ef I could go to church meself. Miss Myrtle-"
"You would be worse and not better," came the
swift rejuinder. "Besides, nobody prevents you from
going to church when It is your Sunday off. What
do you do when you are not working?"
Charles thought he saw in that question an op-
portunity to relax and embark upon a lengthy and
utterly untruthful story of his life on his days
of leisure. But Myrtle knew him. "Never mind,"
she said quickly, "you can tell me another time,"
and turned away.
The lad sighed. Somehow. he felt, the world
was in a conspiracy against his meritorious efforts to
reduce all manual labour to a minimum.
Passing through the door that led into the sit-
ting room invariably alluded to as the drawing-
room) Myrtle paused and eyed her father specula-
lively He had expected this, and so had ensconced
himself behind the outspread pages of the paper he
was reading; he appeared to be deeply absorbed In a
Supreme Court Judgment in which he had not the
slightest interest.
'Yes, my dear?" said Mr. Broglie. fearing that
perhaps the worst was about to happen, and
coming out from behind his newspaper camouflage.
"Aren't you going to dress?"
"lress. Myrtle' What for?"
"To go to church."
"I'm not going to church today. Don't feel up
to it. somehow."
"You never feel up to it at any time," retorted
his daughter "But don't you think that sometimes
a girl likes to have her father or some man with her
when she goes anywhere? And you never want to
go with me."
"It's not that. Myrtle," Mr. Broglle hastened to
assure her. "Only. I am tired. Besides, you ought
to have a young man going to church with you, not
an old fellow like me. In fact, I don't think you
want me much."
This happening to be perfectly true, Myrtle did
not directly reply As a matter of fact she had made
her suggestion in the hope of receiving the answer
given by her father.
"Very well. then." she replied: "I suppose I
must go by meself while you sit at home and read
a paper that never has anything in it to read."
Mr. Broglie sighed in thankfulness at his es-
cape and again disappeared behind the wide sheets of
the journlI he held in his hand. while Myrtle sud-
denly slipped out on to the verandah once more.
She let her eyes wander round and about her, and
for the hundredth time she smiled in satisfaction.
Her home stood in more than half an acre of
land; a bungalow it was with front and back veran-
dahs, four bedrontms, a sitting room with a dining
room immediately behind, these two apartments
opening into one another and differentiiated only by
an open archway of wood coloured to look like maho-
gany. To the south as you faced westward were
the pantry and kitchen, both built into the house,
as was the modern custom; the kitchen was equip-
ped with an American stove and an enamelled sink,
the floor was tiled, the pantry too was tiled, and
all its arrangements, from the Ice-box in it, to the
neat row of shelves, proclaimed that it had been
built according to the directions of someone who
knew what was wanted and had decided that it
should be supplied.
The place belonged to Mr. Broglie. For years
the Broglies had been content with a house, also
their own, in a much less fashionable neighbourhood
and much nearer to Mr. Broglie's place of business.
There .Myrtle had been born, her sister (born year,
before) having seen the light of earth In humbler
quarters still, though these were quite respectable.
At sixteen Myrtle had become discontented with
her surroundings; at eighteen she had openly re-
belled against them; when she was nineteen Mr.
Brogln. a secretly terror-stricken man, had purchased
a plot of building land in Mountain-slope Avenue,
after Myrtle had inspected it and pronounced It
He had saved some money in the past; hence
when he sold the house he had owned for over
twenty years he had quite enough to pay cash for
everything connected with his new home. This was



to him a source of pride, as it also was to his wife.
Myrtle too was satisfied, especially as she felt that
this place should and must be solely hers some day,
by virtue, presumably, of her being the younger
daughter of the family. For Myrtle was prepared to
reverse all the usual laws of inheritance if it suited
her to do so.
At the rear of the house was built the small
garage wherein was kept the Ford that Mr. Broglie
owned. This Ford had seer life and better days, but
its master had decided that it would have to see
many more days, not better but worse, before
another motor vehicle should be bought to fill its
place. On that point both he and his wife were
firm; for Jane had a horror of running into debt,
and the new house had depleted their savings to a
great extent. .Myrtle had bowed to this ruling.
Yet she was certain that. somehow, she would
acquire a new car before long.
In front of the house, and to the north of it,
was laid out the flower garden in which she found
so much delight. Charles looked after it, under siu-
pervision. Charles was now nineteen, had been with
the family for three years, and, allowed a sufficiency
of time, could get through the work he had to do.
He was black but not comely, always wore a hat-
it was believed that he slept in it-and affected while
at gardening or when attending to the car a pair
of clogs, simple things of wood with a leather strap
that passed over the toes. When actually chauf-
fering he wore yellow shoes and adorned his person
with a hot suit that he had saved up money for
years to buy. At such times Charles felt conse-
quential and was very much inclined to run over
any small dog or cat that stood in the path of his
car. But of this he knew that Miss Myrtle would
not approve. On this point he felt that, admirable as
were her undoubted abilities, she was singularly de-
ficient in a becoming sense of importance.
As Myrtle stood on the tiled, polished verandah,
with potted ferns arr'niged on one side of it, with
the towering mountains of the long avenue in
front, with houses of a like description to hers op-
posite, and also to north and south of the avenue,
she was filled with quiet joy. Life had of a certainty
not been unkind to her.
She passed again into the sitting room, went up
to her father, and, reaching out her hand, rubbed
affectionately that patch of his head which had be-
come almost completely bald.
"All right, old man," she said lightly. "I won't
bother you about church today; but when there is
really something important you must go with me,
"Unless what, me dear?"
"Unless I have somebody else," she replied. "An'
some day. you know, I will have."
"Of course," he replied emphatically. "In f:at. I
wonder you don't have already."
"Time enough, papee, time enough! I could
have a hundred now if I wanted that sort; but what
are they? Most of them not earning more than me,
if as much, and when I get married it must be to
somebody who can keep me properly, not expect me
to go to work. He must be a big shot, a really
big shot." She paused for a moment then added
with intent to please him, "like you."
He was pleased. Secretly. remembering his
years of early struggle, he did consider that he was
now a big shot; big, that is, compared with most of
those in his own walk of life. He knew quite well
that there were shots that were infinitely bigger
than he: vast projectiles so to speak; monster bombs
with whom he could bear no comparison; but these
he regarded as being so infinitely great as not to be
spoken or even thought of when shots of his kind
were being discussed. He felt sure that his daugh-
ter thought this also.
"A big shot like you," she went on reflectively.
"but bigger. What I mean, papee, is this: you are
big, but the man I marry must begin far in ad-
vance of where you now are. He must 'ave-have-"
she emphasized. with indignation that an aitch
should so inopportunely have slipped away-"he must
have plenty of money and a house of his own, as
you have, and be handsome, and fair, fairer than
you. Don't you agree?"
"If you can get him," remarked Mr. Broglie
doubtfully; "but it seems to me you want a lot."
"Why not? These are modern times. Take
mamma. She married you and you are fairer than
she. And you always say you are much better off
now than you used to be. Well, I must marry some-
body better off than you are, and fairer too, if I am
not to go backward; and nobody is going backward
in these days if they can help it."
"Your sister is comfortable," began Mr. Brog-
lie tentatively; but Myrtle dismissed her sister with
a sentence.
"Tcho! Elsie was born contented: I was not. She
is satisfied to live in Montego Bay. but only King-
ston or St. Andrew would suit me. She is sleeping
but I am awake. And now I better go and dress for
"If you see Mr. Clarke. tell him for me," began
Mr. Broglie. but Myrtle interrupted him.
"I am going to the Parish Church today. In
fact I am thinking of joining that church."

'But. Myrtle, you are a Wesleyan'"
"I am twenty-one now, so I can become an An-
glican. I like the altar an' the candles and the
music, and a lot of nice people go to the Parish
Church. You know that."
"Altars and music are not religion," commented
Mr. Broglle sententiousty. "Those are the externals,
me dear, the externals," he repeated, liking the ex-
"And very nice externals. I am not asking you
and mamma to change your religion, but as I am a
woman now, why shouldn't I change mine?"
"Well," weakly conceded her father, "they are
all Protestant."
"Of course. And sometimes the Bishop himself
preaches there."
"And I suppose it don't make much difference
where you belong so long as you are sincere."
"Of course it don't. I knew you would see that.
But if I join Parish Church I am not going to
become any Sunday-school teacher and all that sort
of foolishness; that is for the old. I will make
them give me a nice seat in a pew well up to the
front, and when I march into church, dressed to the
nines, you can hear some of the people say: 'that's
the stylish Miss Broglie'-O boy! Then you will
have to go with me sometimes, and you must dress
your best too. But I won't bother you today. You
can stay and rest."
Mr. Firiolle sized d with pride at his daughter.
He recognized himself in her. He too had always
loved to show off when young: to impress, to star-
tie: and had he not done well for himself in the
world? So would Myrtle: he was sure of that. But
lie wasn't at all certain that Myrtle's mother would
appreciate the utter worldliness of her daughter's re-
ligious views. Jane had often remarked upon that
worldliness before.
Myrtle. after giving the bald patch of her
father's head an additional, affectionate pat, now
sailed off to the pantry where her mother was busy
preparing breakfast with the aid of a servant whose
effmceny was more than doubtful.
Those who had known Jane Burrell in her youth.
long before she had become Mrs. Broglie and had
risen in the world, would never have recognized her
now unless they had kept in contact with her during
the long interval of years. She had grown stoutish,
though she still retained nearly all of her former
vigour; she had become shrewder, though that was
an inevitable development, for always she had pos-
sessed an abundance of keen common sense. Dark of
complexion, her hair was smooth and well kept. Jane
having adopted the hair-straightening process in-
vented by a Madame Walker of the United States
and popularised among those whose hair was in-
clined to curl pItrmanently. Her homedress was
neat, her appearance plat id She always had had
plenty of strength of character, and she knew that
this quality of hers had been inherited by Myrtle
much more than by Myrtle's elder sister. She was
proud of Myntle. proud of the position Myrtle occu-
pied, for the girl was a competent stenographer and
typist and for three years had been earning a good
salary three pounds a week now, which was fine
Iay for a very young woman in Kingston. But
Myrtle puzzled her; had Jane known the word, and
the implications of it, she would have confessed to
herself that Mlyrtle was at heart a pagan. Sti;l.
mother-like, she hoped and believed that as Myrtle
grew older she would grow more serious also.
Meanwhile she understood that any attempt on her
or Mr. Broglie's part to control the young woman too
much might simply lead to .yrtle's kicking over the
traces and going to live by herself or with one of the
friends of whom Mrs. Ilroglie did not think highly
A girl earning three pounds a week could do so
easily. This consideration helped to make of Myrtle
the bess of the house.
She peeped into the pantry: "Mamma, I am
going to church."
"Very good me dear."
"Parish Church; not Mr. Clarke's."
"But --well I suppose it is all right if you pre-
fer it."
"You taking the car?"
"Of course: I will drive meself."
"'Very good. Myrtle: but where will you leave
the car when you are in church?"
"Somewhere. But well. you know. I didn't
think of that. Perhaps I'd better take Charles."
"I think so," agreed Mrs. Brolie wiping her
hands with her apron. "Charles will like that: he
like anything that don't mean hard work."
"True! And there's something else," added
Myrtle gaily. "It's nice to see a girl driving her-
self. Shows nerve. But if she goes to church with a
chauffeur driving her, there is more style to that.
Especially when she is waiting after service for her
chauffeur to roll up and take her away. I'll tell
Charles he must get ready in time; then as soon as
I bathe and eat some breakfast I'll be off. Boy!
Just see me rolling up to the church-gate and get-
ting out of my own ear. Call that nothing"' she
laughed "But pity the car so shabby."
"It is a lot to have a car at all." returned her

mother philosophically: "when I was your age I had
to walk."
"Times are changed. me good lady," cried her
"More than you know, me dear," smiled Mrs.
Broglie. "Well, you better go an' get ready now."
"0. K.." and My.rtle turned and ran into her
roum, to which was attached one of the two baths
in the house.
She had said to her father that she would be
dressed to the nines. But she knew it was not in
good taste fom people to dress showily in church,
and she believed in all outward conf'urmlins to the
religious conventionalities. She set her bath, then
ran out to warn Charles that he was to drive her
downtown, to church. Charles beamed. Here was
an opportunity of arraying himself in a garment of
startling blue which was as hot as blazes, and of
adorning his feet with those yellow shoes which, un-
comfortable as they were, nevertheless suggested a
superior financial pousiion. He abandoned the dahlias
immediately and disappeared into his room. Some-
how the verse came into his head. with src-;ial and
particular application to him "Solomon in ill
his glory was not arrayed like one of these." He
also thlni.liht that perhaps, on this red-letter occa-
sion, he might even be permitted to run over a dog


EXT Sunday Myrtle did not ask her father to
go to church with her. As her attendance at
places of public worship was not frequent, not more
often than once a month. he was surprised, and so
was her mother, that again she had decided to at-
tend the same fane of praise and prayer at
which she had been present on the previous Sunday.
It occurred to Mr. Broglie that his daughter was all
of a sudden becoming religious. He felt that this
demanded some special recognition on his part.
When Myrtle was not within hearing he went into
the pantry to talk the matter over with his wife.
"I never know her go to the same church two
Sunday flll, Ing. before," he observed; "it signifies
a new orientation of action."
Mrs. lr.oglie knew that her husband had a fond-
ness for big words as well as for conversation and
even oration, but "orientation of action" was some-
thing she had never heard from him befi. c. and
made not the slightest pretence to understand.
'"alk plain, Vin," she counselled. "you know I
don't know what you mean."
This was, in its way, a pleasing testimony to
Vin's superior erudition, and he liked it. The
phrase he had used was one with which he had be-
come acquainted only that morning; he had got it
from a local paper. He had made up his mind to
employ it on all possible occasions in the near
"I mean it look like she is becoming religious,"
he explained.
"That will be good for her," remarked Jane;
though she spoke in a way that suggested doubt. She
thought a moment.
"It's the strange church which Myrtllv think is
fashionable." she said, "and not because she is more
religious than she used to be. Not till she is much
older will she feel the benefit of religion. And
perhaps she sit with some nice people. That's why
she going again this morning."
"If I weren't expected to attend Mr. Clarke's con-
venticle I would go with her," said Myrtle's father,
"though she hasn't asked me."
"Well, tell her you will go; then next Sunday
you and me can go to Mr. Clarke's."
The latter part of this arrangement did not
quite suit Mr. Broglie's book. He himself, like his
daughter, apparently regarded a too frequent attend-
ance at church as a sort of over-indulgence in re-
ligious emotion; he much preferred to spend his
Sunday idling at home, and also in entertaining an
old friend who always dropped in to see him,
and to have a drink and a bite of luncheon. But
he made no reply to his wife. deciding secretly that
sufficient to the next Sunday would be his excuses
for not leaving home. He contented himself with
nodding vaguely and went to seek his daughter.
She was in the yard, looking critically over the
shabbylsh car, to which Charles was vainly endea-
vouring to add an extra polish.
"Myrtle," said Mr. Broglie. with the air of a
man bestowing a remarkable and totally unexpected
favour, "I am going to church with you!"
Mr. Brogie did not like the tone in which the
question was asked. or the sharp look that his daugh
ter flashed at him. He had expected almost a shout
of appreciation from her. This "why?" suggested
disapproval and dissent.
"Well, you ask me last Sunday. .."
"But today is this Sunday, papee, and I heard
you say last night that you were going with mamma
to your own church. But thank you all the same."
"Then you don't want me to go with you?" de-
manded Mr. Broglie. puzzled and a little annoyed
that his kind, paternal offer should have met with
such a rebuff.



"Not today. You see, I may stop on my way home
to see Alice Gable. and I couldn't ask you to come in
with me at that hour."
'I could come home and send back the car for
you." suggested Mr. Broglie.
"And suppose I wanted to leave before the car
came back? And, anyhow, why are you so anxious
to come with me today ?'
"I am not anxious to come with you! I am only
- well, do as you like."
"All right Don't get vexed. You have any
change on you? 1 have none."
"Youu mean you want me to give you collec-
"Of course. arena t I your daughterr"
"You earning a big salary, far more than I
was getting %%hen I was older than you; there-
"Therefore." said Myrile. going up to her dad
and nestling against him, "yuu will give me some
money for colleitiun."
She thrust her hand into his trouser pocket
and extracted Ir-un it four shillings. She selected
two sixpences, hesitated, took another shilling, and
replaced the rest in his pocket. She kissed him
lightly on his forehead, murmuring, "y.ou re a sweet
old man." and then turned her attention to the car
once more. Mr Broglie smiled and walked back
into the house. lie knew that M)itle could do just
what she rleao.ed wilh him, but somehow
he seemed to like that.
Myrtle returned from church later on,
gay antd radilni She had not called on
ber friendd that furenoon, she explained,
but might ido sL in the afternoon. She
was going out at about half-past four;
Charles had already received his instruc-
tions. She would be back in time for sup-
per. and atti supper a friend would call
to like her to a cineina.
Had Mr. Broglie been keenly observing
her just then. he would have noticed that
Myrtle eyed critically and appraisingly
the apl:arance If the drawing room, the
dining room. iand then passed out to the
front verandah as though to give it "the
once over" ;also She scrutinized the
neighbonirlniod. the surrounding view. She
took in all the arrangements of the gar-
den. Apparently she felt reasonably sat-
The neighlluurhood was a nice one, as
she had known all along. Bungalows in-
terspersed with two-storied houses ran'- d(
on either side of the long avenue, and
there wa.- n1 htnose without its garden,
or its strip of lawn marked out for ten-
nis Most ouf these gardens were in flow-
er. and white uand red blooms, in a setting
of green. formed a picture pleasing to the
eye and denoted amongst these middle-
class honscholders a love and appreciation
of flowers. Each hnuse was of a different
design. ailrh had been built individn.:lly
and not ac'ordilig to one set pattern. Each
was painted a suniewhat different hue also,
only slightly different perhaps, yet suffi-
ciently so for all of them to form long
lines of variegated colour. Some were
small. consisting in all of but four rooms
-- a sitting room. a dining room and two
bedrooms wilh pantry and kitchen it- MRS. SC
tacled. Olhers had five rooms, Mr. RBrn'-
lie's place had six And what with the
ierandahs at frint and back, and with all the in-
terior rnoms nf a very fair size, the Brnglir house
was a climafortahle home and one with which even
Myrtlep would frn the present feel content.
The drawing room was furnished with the usual
rocking chairs and couches, tables and what-nots;
lut Iliese were not of the pattern and material
that would have been found in the average middle-
rlnss IIosII of thirty years before. It was imported
rfuriiilre. but of grod wood, and the shape of the
variiois pieces of it was neat and pleasing. There
was ai crex mat spread upon the floor, a mat that
cost qnuile a decent sum of money: it was the best
of tie different qualities imported. The vases on
the little tables were filled with flowers culled from
tie garden, and Myrtle saw to it that they were
challngi as soon as they were becoming wilted. The
windows opening on the verandah were draped with
cloth curtains of a quiet pattern which shielded the
room rrom sunrays and but slightly obstructed the
breeze. The pictures on the walls represented English
rural scenes and looked as though they had been
manufactured by the hundred. But Myrtle and her
people knew nothing about art and so were satis-
In the dining room was a table of maple at
which eight persons might sit, with straw-bottomed
chairs around it. to the north of this table was a
sideboard of maple backed with reflecting glass, and
on this board was set forth the electro-plated ware
which Mrs. Broglie and Myrtle herself had acquired
during the previous years. There was a dinner-
wagon also, of mahogany, a survival of the furni-
ture which Myrtle's mother had owned in Myrtle's

childhood. On it the telephone was kept. Myrtle
used this telephone six times to everybody else's
once. On a stand by itself stood Myrtle's radio.
Mrs. Broglie was impressed with her new house,
with its furniture, with the houses that stood oppos-
ite to and flanked her own. She hardly knew any
of her neighbours; each one was, In a way, of a
different social status from the rest. Some were so
admittedly superior that it was impossible to expect
that they could be on friendly terms with the others.
They lived remotely apart, the avenue's aristocrats.
Jane liiolite was duly impressed by all this;
she accepted class differences as things ordained by
God and intended for some wise purpose. She knew
that she herself did not belong to any exalted class,
that she was lliinill. living out of her sphere in
theas days But Myrtle, her daughter, had from
childhood never been anything else but a Kingston
young lady. Therefore this sort of life was what
ahe took for pgrinicd. while she felt very strongly
on the question of class, se ietly feeling her right
to rise higher and higher in the social scale.
What Jane Broglie mi3t appreciated about her
new surroundings were the great mountains that
rose to such lofiy hi ihtis but a little way in front
of her house. She had been born and reared in the
country, in a setting of hills. She had first come
to K inuIstn from a village named Mount Malus. Now.
in her advanced middle-age for she was nearly


fifty she was living again with the mountains
towering about her; and early in the mornings, when
she went out into the garden, she could see the
sun rising over the summits of these, and the skies
changing from soft pink and pearl to crimson and
gold, and the land lighting up in golden splendo..r.
and the trees on lofty heights swaying to the breeze
that passed through them. Then the avenue .voulo
wake and come to life and another day would begin,
and Jane would thank God for all His blessings.
Myrtle was still standing on the verandah look-
ing about her when her mother suddenly appeared
upon the scene. Mrs. Broglie, with parental solic-
itude, wished to ask her daughter how she had en-
joyed the service from which she had just returned.
She houlght too that it would be interesting to hear
what the sermon had been about. She wanted, in
fact, to get Myrtle's reaction to this church that
seemed to attract her.
"How you like the Parish Church, Mlyille'' she
"So-so. But you know it yourself. You have
been there."
"Yes. now an' then: you' father would have
gone with you today ."
"No necessity. I told him so."
"So he told me. You enjoy .. ."
"I think we might change the flowers in that
bed," said MyIrle. pointing to a particular part of
the card'n1 "Roses would look nice there. I must
speak to Charles about it."
Mrs. hfi-"lie realized that her dannhter was
paying no attention to her remarks, but she con-

"All right, me dear, and ... "
"Why papa is always inviting that Mr. Stanley
to come here, mammee?"
"But why you ask such a question, Myrtle? Don't
you know Mr. Stanley and you' father is old
"Mr. Stanley is no friend of mine: I hate him.
He is a pompous old fool, and he is always talk-
ing a lot of nonsense and trying to drink up all the
liquor in the house. I am afraid to ask anybody to
come and see me with this Mr. Stanley coming
around just when you don't want him even a mile off.
It's disgusting. It is a good thing he isn't dark!"
S\Will. I am dark, Myrtle, an' I never wish
to be white yet."
"No use wishing, mammee, for you could wish
till you're sick and it wouldn't make a piece of dif-
"Who is the person you want to invite here?"
inquired Jane quietly. "If you only tell me in time
I will hide myself, for if he can't meet Mr. Stanlk).
who is fairer than you, he won't want to meet me."
"Don't talk nonsense, mammee; you are my mo-
ther. You think I could be ashamed of you?"
"N'eqi .1.rtle A lot of young girls are ashamed
of their mother nowadays: it is the fashion. You
think I didn't notice that though you ask you' father
to go to church with you last week, you didn't bother
to ask me?"

"But he is a man, mamma, and that
makes all the difference. I wanted a male
companion last week. Today I went to
church alone."
"You went to meet anybody."
"Why you ask me a quieslion like that?
Do you think I'm a little child?'
"No. Myrtle; you are a grown-up
young lady now; but this is the first time
I hear you talk in this funny way. You
never object to Mr. Stanley before."
"Oh, he is a pain! Don't talk about
"Who is it you ilvitlg here?"
"I didn't say I was inviting anybody,
though a girl must have some new friends
now and then. But what between Mr.
Stiinl'y and Miss Emmia. I think that
sometimes I am going mad. Miss Emma
is as thin as a stick and she leans to one
side. I never saw an uglier woman,
while as for MIr. Stanley, the only reason
lie comes here is because he likes to drink
free. I never saw a man who loved free-
ness so much."
Mrs. llroclie was about to make some
reply in defence of Miss Emma, if not of
Mr. Stanley, when Mtyrle happening to
glance at the roadway, perceived Miss
Emma herself making her way towards the
lianclir residence. At that same moment
Miss Emma perceived her and waved to-
wards her a thin. attenuated hand. To
march inside after she had been seen was
impossible without being openly rude,
and Myrtle, in spite of the remarks she
had just let fall, did not wish to be rude
to Miss Emma. First of all, that would
have hurt her mother deelly. Next. Miss
Emma had always praised Myrtle, always
admired her both in and out of season
loudly, had always, as it were, prostrated
herself before the girl: and one does not
treat with sudden brutality a slave-like
admirer who has not yet afforded any
excuse for condign punishment and dismis-


Miss Emma's brown face was wreathed in proud
crnnratulatory smiles as she pushed open the low
iron gate and entered the Briglle grounds She
shook hands with Jane and Myrtle enthusiastical-
ly; she would have attempted to kiss Myrtle, but
knew from of old that young lady's objections to
being (as she expressed it) pecked about the face by
other women.
"Myrtle." she cried, "I bet you don't know
where I was today "
No. I don't," said Myrtle coldly. "At home
I suppose."
Miss Emma did not observe the girl s coldness:
she answered rapidly: "For once in a blue moon I
went to Parish Church today, an' one of the first
persons I see in a seat before mine was you. I rub
me eyes: but, no. I say to myself. that can't be
Myrtle, for Myrtle never come here. Then I look
again., an' there you were as large as life. Won-
ders never cease, I said; but the greatest wonder
of all was to come. For when the church was
over an' I was hurrying out to meet you in the
churchyard, who should I see come up to you and
take off his hat but Mr. Scrofleld! I didn't know you
know him. He isn't a small potato either."
"Who Is Mr. Scrofleld. Miss Emma?" asked
Jane, glancing swiftly at her daughter's face and
noticing the frown that had gathered on her brow.
Mrs. Broglle put her question, more to prevent Myr-
tle from replying sharply to Miss Emma than be-
cause she was greatly interested just then In know-
ing who Mr. Scrofleld was. She was aware that



she could always find that out. Even so, she felt
curious, and. perhaps, slightly disquieted.
"He owns a business in Kingston," explained Miss
Emma; "he is a widower with two big daughters.
but he isn't old, you know; he isn't quite fifty."
"You know a lot about him," remarked Myrtle
"Why, yes, me dear; I know about him for a
long time; I make some of his daughters' dresses,
just like I make some of yours; but all these ready-
made clothes coming from America now quite kill-
ing out the local dressmakers. In time we'll all
mash up. If it wasn't for a few ladies that stick
to us I don't know what we would do. You know
Mr. Scrofleld's daughters. Myrtle?"
"No," answered Myrtle shortly. "And I don't
know him much either. He is only an acquaintance."
"But the way he sweep off his hat to you
outside the church today make me know at once
that he admire you," laughed Miss Emma shrilly.
"And he is not too old either an' is quite well off."
"I am going inside," said Myrtle. "I suppose
you are staying to lunch?"
"If your mother ask me, me love, I will 'ave
a bite." replied Miss Emma. whose financial cir-
cumstances always counselled the having of a bite
when a bite could be obtained without deliberate
request or appearance of sponging.
"And I suppose Mr. Stanley is coming too," said
Myrtle. "Well, I'll see you at lunch."
Something in her manner at last attracted Miss
Emma's attention; she gazed after Myrtle curious-
ly. "What's the matter, Jane?" she whispered, after
the young lady had disappeared.
"Not a thing, really, Miss Emma." Jane ans-
wered diplomatically. "You know how it is with
young people. Sometimes they get tunny all of a
sudden, an' the best thing to do is to leave them
alone till they get calm again. Come into me room
an' take off you' hat."
Once inside the room, Mrs. Broglie locked the
door, Miss Emma took off her hat, and both sat
"Tell me about this Mr. Scrofleld." said Jane.
Miss Emma had little to add to her previous
information, but took the opportunity of enquiring
whether Myrtle had ever spoken of him.
"No," confessed the young lady's mother. "but
just before you come in she was talking about in-
viting somebody here, an' I think it was him; but
if he is such a big gentleman as you say, he won't
want to meet me."
She paused, but Miss Emma said nothing; she
could not but feel that perhaps Jane was right.
"An' what he want to know Myrtle for?" con-
tinued Mrs. Broglie. "She's pretty an' stylish, but
she not in his class, and he isn't young. What do
you think he can want to be friendly with Myrtle
or, Miss Emma?"
Miss Emma Mason did not reply. She guessed
that Jane Broglie was thinking of the days of long
ago when she, Emma, was also young and pretty and
stylish, and had been made love to by a man in a
much higher social position than herself and much
older also. That had been long before Myrtle was
born and when Myrtle's sister was too young to
know anything of the calamity that had overtaken
Emma Mason.
Jane had worked under Mrs. Mason. Emma's
mother. Jane had run away from that lady, unable
to put up any longer with Mrs. Mason's tantrums.
She had struggled to make some sort of livelihood.
had met Vincent, had married him after the birth
of their first child, and then had renewed her ac-
quaintance with her former mistresses. Soon after
this Mrs. Mason had died of apoplexy, and in the
following year Cynthia. Emma's elder sister, had
married. Emma lived with Cynthia until misfor-
tune came upon her, and though Cynthia had to
be told of it, Emma knew that Cynthia's husband
would not consent to his sister-in-law remaining in
the house and being supported, with her child, by
him. The child's father? He was a Cuban who
had left for his own country after promising Emma
marriage. In a little while she must have faded
from his memory.
Emma had a brother (now long since dead), but
he was worthless. He could not help her. She had
some friends; these would have aided her, but also
they might have talked. In desperation she told
her story to Jane, to the girl who had always re-
garded her with respect and awe as a person of
infinite superiority to herself; she threw herself
upon Jane's mercy, asking for advice and help.
Jane was married, and Miss Emma had guessed
rightly that she had a kind heart.
Jane did not rejoice in the turn that fortune had
taken, exalting her while it lowered Emma Mason
to the dust. She was sorry for Emma, felt that
she was under an obligation to help the young lady
in her time of trouble: she put her point of view
before her husband. Vincent did not at all admit
this obligation: but he too was kindly-natured. He
agreed that Emma should stay with them until some
time after her baby's birth. Jane said she was
going to adopt the child so that its mother could

work and that her "good name" should not be im-
paired. Vincent grimaced but agreed.
The baby died on the day of its premature
Jane, recalling the death of her own first baby,
sincerely sorrowed with her.
After this Emma pursued the calling of dress-
maker, and when Myrtle came Emma imnagind that
she greatly resembled the little girl who had been
born but to die. She loved Myrtle, worshipped her.
Myrtle accepted her affection as a matter of course,
and found Miss Emma tedious at times.
Emma's sister was now some ten years dead.
She had left three sons; these hardly knew their
aunt. Jane and Vincent had never spoken even to
their children about Emma's early fall; that had
been a secret well preserved. As their children had
grown up they had seen and had heard much about
Miss Emma and had come to understand from
Emma herself that their mother had boarded with
Emma's mother in the days of her youth and had
always been regarded as an esteemed member of
the highly respectable Mason family. And that the
Masons had stood high amongst those who knew
them was surely evidenced by the fact that Jane and
Vincent always called her Miss Emma, though she
had long implored them to drop the "Miss." Jane
simply could not: under no circumstances could
she bring herself to feel the equal of Emma Mason.
Vincent on his part fell into the habit of saying
Miss Emma. because his wife did so; and although
Emma was sincere in her supplication that she
should be addressed by them without any titular
prefix, she nevertheless took pride in this little
token of former social position, feeling that others
must of a surety observe and be impressed by it.
"What can a man like that want with Myrtle?"
Mrs. Broglie repeated her question, though
more to herself than to Miss Emma, after a notice-
able pause, and now Miss Emma decided that some
reply was called for, and that it must be of a reas-
suring nature.
"It can be nothing wrong, Jane; the gentleman
see Myrtle and admire her, and like to make her
acquaintance: that is all. Besides. Myrtle is no
fool, so you can trust her. After all, it is nothing
strange if a man in Mr. Scrofleld position like a
girl like Myrtle. or even fall in love with her. You
see that every day now."
"Perhaps." answered Jane, "but you also see
something different I mean that such gentle-
men don't want to marry girls like Myrtle."
"That's mostly when they are young." observed
Miss Emma sagaciously, "and when the girls are
poor. But Myrtle isn't poor, and Mr. Scrofleld not
young. Besides, if there was anything clandestine
about him and her, Myrtle wouldn't want him to
come here. Yet you think she does."
There was something in this argument, a good
deal. Miss Emma noticed the impression she had
made on Jane, and pressed her point.
"Myrtle is sensible not like girls were when
I was a girl. She not going to make a fool of her-
self as I did." Miss Emma's voice fell almost to
a whisper, as though she feared that she might be
overheard by someone outside the room. Very
rarely, even in private, was Miss Emma's youthful
indiscretion ever mentioned, and then it was always
she who would bring the matter up.
Perhaps. because of the long years that had
passed, and of the secrecy that had been maintained.
it was not too unpleasant to Miss Emma to revert
to that outstanding episode of her career. She had
loved and "suffered": she delighted in the thought
that she had suffered. It lent to her the halo of
private martyrdom without any of the inconven-
lences that usually attend upon martyrdom. And
now her ancient "suffering" could be put to good
use, could be of excellent service, since it enabled
her to calm any uneasy feeling in the mind of Jane.
As for Jane, she was more at ease now that Miss
Emma had spoken. She wished to believe that the
girls of today, so much better educated than the
girls of her youth, were naturally more able to
grapple with their problems than had been persons
like herself and Miss Emma. And, as Miss Emma
had rightly put it. Myrtle was not poor. Poverty
was the root-cause of many a feminine indiscretion.
but, at least, her daughter was comfortably circum-
stanced. What more could a girl like her want?


T about half-past twelve on Sundays they had
at Mr. Broglle's house what he himself called
dinner and Myrtle insisted upon calling lunch.
Therefore at about fifteen minutes of twelve there
came a loud rap at the front door, which Myrtle at
once interpreted as heralding the Sabbath appearance
of Mr. Paul Stanley.
"That's the gentleman." she muttered to herself
in her room as she heard the rap. "Come to lunch
an' will stay to supper, and would stay to sleep.
and to have breakfast tomorrow if we would let him.
Perhaps he will be saying he saw me at church too.
AU these people seem to have nothing but damn
fast and inquisitive eyes."

She came out immediately to greet Mr. Stanley,
who fondly imagined on the spur of the moment
that this indicated a special welcome on her part.
He was to be undeceived very shortly.
Myrtle's father had also emerged from the yard
into the house to meet his life-long friend. Mr. Brog-
lie was still without his jacket, and collarless. He
looked comfortable. He loved to dine in comfort.
But he was not always certain of being allowed to
do so on Sundays by .lyrtle. who now and then
would develop strange notions as to propriety in the
way of attire at the dining table.
Mr. Broglie had a room of his own, next to his
wifes. and he was now about to lead Mr. Stanley
thither. Mr. Stanley was clothed in thick tweeds, this
being Sunday, and as the day was hot he was pers-
piring profusely. He looked forward with much ap-
preciation to bathing his hands and face in cold
water, taking off his jacket, and sitting down with
the family to a hearty meal. The discarding of his
Jacket he regarded as the first great step towards
perfect pleasure. He would then feel like one of
the family and supremely at home. And he always
entertained the belief that one could eat more, the
less one was trammelled with superfluous garments.
"Lunch is coming in now, papa," said Myrtle,
"so hurry up, please, and dress."
"Dress?" interjected Mr. Broglle, dismayed at
the suggestion.
"Yes; put on your jacket and collar and tie, like
a civilized human being. After all, I am a young
lady and entitled to some respect."
Mr. Stanley's face fell. He knew at once that
this remark was aimed principally at him; that if
Myrtle would not sit at table with a father who
disdained Jacket and collar, a guest, even a privileged
guest, would not dare to forego his coat.
"It is hot," remonstrated Mr. Broglie. "and,
besides, there are no strangers here. Just the five
of us."
"You can never know when strangers may come
in," retorted his daughter; "and in any case we
dress for ourselves, and because it is proper, and
not for visitors."
"Of course, of course," murmured Mr. Stanley
in a propitiatory tone of voice. He had made up
his mind instantly to agree with and appease Myr-
tle, "This is Sunday, a day of rest and gladness,
but also a day when one endeavours to look one's
best and live up to that standard of life to which it
has pleased God to call us. You are perfectly right,
Myrtle. Perfectly right."
"I know I am."
"Of course, of course."
"Why do you like to say 'of course, of course,'
so often, Mr. Stanley?"
"Eh? Of course. Why I like to say it?"
Mr. Stanley vainly sought in his mind for an
adequate reason, but was so confused by Myrtle's
sharp questioning that he could find none. Myrtle
was often difficult. but today she seemed more dim-
cult than ever. She appeared. now that he gazed
keenly at her, to be in a bad temper, and he was
rather afraid of her when she was in a temper. Al-
ready she had decreed that he must wear his jacket
at dinner; now she was demanding of him the
reason of a favourite expression of his. And he
had looked forward to this midday meal with such
pleasurable anticipations! Truly, no one could ever
foresee the future.
"I just say it," he muttered, and hoped she
would be satisfied with so incomplete an explanation.
She paid no further attention to him, but con-
tinued to gaze upon her father. Mr. Broglle realized
that there was no sense in attempting to kick
against the pricks. He knew that unless he donned
collar and Jacket in spite of the terrific noonday
heat, Myrtle would refuse to dine at table; which
circumstance would dampen the feelings of all of
the rest of them. "Come. Stan," he said to his
friend, and passed into his room. Myrtle smiled.
She was secretly a little sorry for her father, but
delighted that she had conveyed to Mr. Stanley a
clear intimation that he must not take too much for
granted or make himself too much at home in other
people's houses.
Mr. Stanley was a man older than Mr. Broglie
and also slightly fairer. He was of middle height,
and on the spare side, with black eyes that usually
looked vague, a chin neither prominent nor negli-
gible, a mouth and nose suggesting an easy-going dis-
position, a benevolent expression, and a shock of
sleek white hair, of which he was secretly proud.
It was noticed by the observant that Mr. Stan-
ley rarely gesticulated, or "talked with his handa"
Engaged in conversation, he spoke usually In a
low tone of voice. Myrtle sometimes said in derision
that he talked as if he were thinking aloud,
not knowing that this pleased him. For that was
how he loved to be thought of as talking. One of
his few ambitions was to be regarded as a great
thinker, whose talk was original and weighty. And
so was he regarded by his friend Vincent Broglie, of
whom, in consequence, he entertained a very high
Mr. Stanley was a journalist, having entered a
(Continued on Page 15)





T was August 1939. Everybody was talking about
the probability of war. A few optimistic souls
prophesied starvation, having in mind, no doubt.
their particular enemies whose starvation they would
have regarded as evidence of divine punishment of
persons essentially wicked. Some persons started to
lay in a stock of supplies which, apparently. con-
ssated of whisky alone. Some, believing that the
war would be over in six months, were fairly san-
guine that other people could go without food for that
period: at any rate they talked as if they believed
this. Then news suddenly went about that Mr. F. E.
V. Smith had been appointed Food Controller. To
support this rumour there was issued shortly after-
wards a decree signed by Mr. Smith in which he
stated firmly that certain things were not to be ex-
ported from this island without special license from
him, and amongst these things he explicitly men-
tioned "salted fish of all kinds." This met with
popular approval: war or no war we wanted our
usual quantity of salted fish. therefore some persons
reverently hailed F. E. V. as Francis First. King
of Codfish, and it is thus that he is sometimes thought
of even to this day.

I T was on the
4th of Septem-
her, 1939. that
this order relat-
ing to salted fish
of all kinds went n I
forth; at the same
time it was an-
nounced that,
amongst other ar-
ticles. no one e
could export the 4
bones and hoofs
of animals with-
out incurring
painful penalties
But this left the
public unmoved
No one wanted to
handle hoofs and
horns and the
like. for these
were not in de-
mand and. any-
how, their food
value was not
very apparent. It ;
is true that some-
times the beef
that one puir-
chased in the lo
cal markets was
not easily distin- i
guishable, in re-
gard to tough-
ness and flavour.
from hoof cr
horn. It had now
and then seemed
to meat eaters
-that a steak might
well be described
as a hoof,. that a
bit of roast pos-
sterling qualities
of a horn, what-
ever those might be. But the average diner was
well prepared to give up hoofs and horns, bones
of all kinds, not only with equanimity but with cheer-
fulness, hence no one cared whether bones should be
exported or not so long as no one was compelled
to purchase them locally as highly edible food. Never-
theless it was recognized that the food control now
being put into force must be of a singularly comnre-
hensive character since not even the bones were
neglected. But the popular joy really centred on
those regulations relating to saltfleh. And it was
nicer to think of a King of Codfish than of a King
of Bones.

TWO years and more have passed since this food
control was instituted as a war measure; over
two years; and in that interval all sorts of functions
relating to food and materials have been compre-
hended in the duties of Francis First. There was
a Materials Board appointed at the same time as
the Food Control Board. These two were presently
amalgamated, so that stockings and corrugated iron,
cement, cotton goods, and a multitude of other things
also came within the scope of Francis's authority.
He was called upon to issue licenses for importa-
tIons, for exportations. to fix the prices at which
goods should be sold by wholesalers and retailers,
to see that these prices were not jacked up by those
who wished to make a little extra money on the
quiet: also to see that there should be no avoidable
scarcity of goods Ml long as things chuld still be im-


Who, aided by his Retinue,

competently authorize the dis-

posal of Food and other Articles

while the Realm is at War

ported. He was instructed by England not to for-
get that dollars were at a premium and were pre-
cious for the purchasing of war material, and that
therefore Jamaica should buy as much as possible
from places where the pound and not the dollar was
the unit of currency. He was empowered to buy
stuff in Jamaica for transportation to England. such
for instance as oranges. He had to try to please
the folk in the great offices in London. He must not
forget, either, that he could not treat the purchasing
public of Jamaica as though they counted for nothing
This was and is not a German colony. And Britons
never, never, never shall be slaves-that at any rate,

is what a I:opular patriotic song declares and Ja-
maicans saw no reason to disagree with the state-

FRANCIS took to his new job as a duck takes to
water. He loved it. He revelled in it. He had
come to Jamaica as a microbiologist, but after a few
years had gone in for cornmeal In a big way. Here
I see the influence of heredity. His father had been
in business when Francis was a lad, had dealt with
the Argentine in grain for many years, then had
lost money during the first great war. So Francis was
kindly disposed towards grain and had a soft spot
in his heart for business; he had, however, not fol-
lowed the paternal ancestor on the grainy path but
had gone to a science school where they taught him
to look through a microscope and to distinguish be-
tween a tiny creature not visible to the naked eye
and. let us say, a lion or a Jamaica importer. When
he came to Jamaica he applied his eye to the dis-
covery of dangerous microscopic animals, but, some-
how, his heart leaned towards corn and cognate com-
modities; hence after some time we heard of him
as engaged in manufacturing cornmeal for the Gov-
ernment, which Job he still pursues. They called
him Marketing Officer: he took tomatoes in his stride
and would not disdain the pumpkin were there any-
thine to be done about pumpkins. Then this war
broke out and they made him Food Controller. At
any rate, that is what the public calls him; but
there is no such person known formally and officially

r Codfish

to Government as Food Controller. The name is not
recognized in law. In the statutes and regulations
of this island he is the Competent Authority on salt-
fish, bones, piece goods, Eno's Fruit Salt and things
of that kind. Invariably he writes: "Now therefore
I, the Competent Authority." knowing quite well that
the wags will put a couple of letters-I and N-before
the former word. That cannot be helped, and, any-
way, no one speaks of him as Competent Authority.
Even if he spent all the days of the war in dealing
only with iron, he would still be thought and spoken
of as Food Controller But a nicer designation, be-
cause it expresses sympathetic public appreciation.
is King of Codfish. To go down in history as Francis
First. King of Codfish what more could any mortal
man desire?

SE has acquired a large staff of men and women,
chiefly young, and Douglas Bruce is his Prince
of Alewives. Douglas is Deputy Chairman of some
Board or other-I forget the name and am not go-
ing to put myself to the trouble of ascertaining it.
For it does not matter. Douglas is chief assistant
to Francis, and you will notice that in the picture of
a group which ap-
pears on this page
Douglas is sitting
in all his glory
at the right hand
of Francis,
though he doesn't
seem to be mak-
ing anybody in
particular his
footstool. In ad-
dition to Douglas
Bruce there are
many oth era,
mostly Jamaican
youths of both
sexes, and these,
I presume, look
after many mat-
ters either before
or after they
come before the
King of Codti-h.
and check figures.
or read letters, or
do something or
other: anyhow I
gather that they
take quite kindly
to their work, as
they and others
ought to do in
in these difficult,
hectic days, for
1 this is an ele-
mentary obliga-
tion. There was
blundering at
first. Thing' had
t# he straightened
out. people had to
adjust themselves
to the new order
which had been
set up to meet
wartime hurry
tions; also the
staff. from head to tail. had to learn their job.
For deny it who will mistakes were made.
Blunders took place. There was discontent and
all this was inevitable. There would run a rumour
through the city about flour that was developing
weevils, about fish that did not reach the high respect-
able level of the best saltfish families. There would
be a feeling that imports from Canada ,Jamairas
main source of imports of certain articles which Eng-
land could not conveniently supply were to be stop-
ped. In some instances there were exaggerations, in
others there was no foundation for the prevailing he-
lief. but in some there was truth. and that was un-
deniable. One does not become a competent authorly
at the very beginning; one has to learn by experience.
But one can learn if one is intelligent, is determined
to do one's best, and is not unfairly suspicious. The
belief was that the department for importations and
exports was terribly suspicious; I gather that this
suspicion has waned with knowledge, while perhaps
any reason for it has also decreased with a better
understanding on both sides as to just what has to
be done. True, there are still complaints. But no
revolution threatens in the Kingdom of Saltfish. At
any rate, I have heard of none up to the time of
vwritlng; I have received no information from any
Codfish front.
NEVERTHELESS. think of it. Merchants and
exporters here were not accustomed to stringent
war controls. or to control of any kind. It was
(Continued on Page 15)





TAKE it that in the days before you and I were
born the land where now stands Jones Penn, or
the Town of Jones, on the borders of Kingston and
St. Andrew, was owned by a Mr. Jones who had ac-
quired it for a song, if indeed he had not stolen it.
For in the days when land was cheap in Jamaica
people either bought it for a few pounds or took
possession of it in the hope that no one would no-
tice such a minor and trifling matter. But however
it was in the case of Mr. Jones, we now have in
Jones Penn a suburban settlement that counts for
something among the townships of Jamaica.

IT was on Saturday. April 12, in the year 1941,
that in company with a friend I embarked upon
my discovery of Jones Penn. In a way I had known
the place before. But when I had been there so many
years before, it was but a wide stretch of land with a
house here and there, some dusty streets laid out,
and an air of desolation over all. Bush grew every-
where, no water mains had yet been laid, the few
inhabitants drew their water from stand-pipes placed
at the corners of thoroughfares where but few
persons were ever to be seen. Even the does that
prowled about-for no part of Jamaica is without
its due complement of very hungry and forlorn-look-
ing dogs-appeared to take no particular interest in
life. In those days to mention that you lived in
Jones Penn was as to say that you were situated
miles and miles away in the city's hinterland:
you were almost completely separated from civilisa-
tion. But land in the Penn was cheap and lower
Kingston was becoming much congested. To this
so-called hinterland, therefore, the people began to
migrate. And so, when this year I went to see it once
more, it was no longer a sort of wilderness. but a
town which had grown up and possessed certain
marked characteristics of its own.

THE first thing I noticed was that all the streets
in Jones Penn are paved. All of them have as-
phalt pavements with concrete gutters and kerbs, and
these you will not find universally in many a
township of the better sort within the municipal
area of Kingston and St. Andrew. I had not gone
far along these paved paths of Jones Penn before I
noticed something else. Most of the grocery shops
in Jones Penn are conducted and even owned by
natives: the Chinese shopkeepers here are distinct-
ly in the minority. I could hardly believe my eyes.
Here stood a grocery in which were three dark Ja-
maicans at work selling imported foodstuffs to local
purchasers; opposite was another shop in which were
two Jamaica women engaged in similar work. True,
there were Chinese shops or groceries also; but these
were outnumbered by two or three to one, nor were
they better patronised by the people than were the
native establishments. It has again and again been
said that though the Jamaican may grumble against
the Chinese, he nevertheless prefers to buy from him,
but that does not seem to be true in Jones Penn.
Both races of shopkeepers are patronised impartially.
And there Is no bitter rivalry between them. They
speak quite kindly of each other.

I NTERED one of these shops to engage in a few
moments' cordial conversation. The manageress
was a young woman of dark-brown complexion; she
was assisted by two other women.
"Tell me," I suggested: "'doe this place belong
to you?"
"No." she admitted; "it is owned by a Chinaman
downtown: I manage it for him."
"And before you?" I asked.
"It had a Chinese manager."
"What about the shop opposite"' I enquired.
"That has always been native," she said, and
this was verified afterwards by the people in the
opposite shop.
"We must try to do something for ourselves,"
some of these proprietors remarked. "so we opened
this shr, here. How we doing? Not badly."
Do you quite understand what this means? If
you read of the Jamaica of fifty years ago you will
find that most of the provision shops in Kingstio
were owned and conducted hy natives. There were
even then many Chinese who ran shops, but the
born Jamaicans still held their ground They could
not stand the Chinese competition and pressure, how-
ever; they gave way; it was then seen that the
retail trade in groceries had passed into Chinese
hands, and the cry went up that forever in them that
trade would remain. Jones Penn is proving that this
was a shortsighted view of the situation. Jones Penn
is the first place to do it.


SSTOOD n another shop; people drifted in by ones
and twos to make some trifling purchases. Ani
old woman, who may have been seventy, bought a
pound and a half of rice and half a pound of salted
codfish then advanced towards the vendress a little
cup, asking for a handful of salt. The lady of the
shop shook her head, she had but little salt, she
could give none away. The old woman del:arted silgh
Ing and muttering something about this being a hard
and difficult world, in which view I entirely agreed:
and I wondered whether this native female shop
keeper had acted with true business acumen in re-
fusing the requested gift of salt. But when another
customer begged a drop of vinegar and got it. I saw
that the young woman had spoken but the truth
about the salt and had not been indifferent to the
custom by which the Chinese in older days had
built up their retail business in this island.
STANDING there in a shop in Jones Penn I work-
ed out the future of retail shopkeeping in Ja-
maica. What has begun in this Penn will spread
everywhere in the Island as the years go by. Chi-
nese in Jamaica will all be Jamaican-born, will be
Jamaican, an.d will be as keen that the island and
its trade shall be reserved to the natives as anyone
else can be. Then, Chinese are now entering other
lines of occupation besides our grocery trade: they
are clever, studious; the younger ones were born
In Jamaica; speak English. very little Chinese; thry
will fill all sorts of positions like the other natives,
and if they are wholesalers will hire native help for
their retail business, or will credit goods to native
shopkeepers. or set these up in business. This in
a small way has already begun; what now strikes
one as strange in Jones Penn will not strike anyone
as strange in any part of Kingston or Jamaica some
thirty years hence. But in the meantime it renders
Jones Penn unique; and. so thinking. I glanced at
the shelves of more than one of these native gro-
ceries, seeing there the same things that one finds
In Chinese groceries-the tins of tomato soup, of
floor wax, of corned beef. of sardines, with bottles
of Orange Glow, of singerr Ale, yards and loaves of
bread, buns, bundles of brooms and parcels of other
things. and all were neatly packed, and handed over
in accordance with demand.
O UTSIDE the shops the sun beat down with a
fierce heat upon the paved surface of the street,
and on the narrow sidewalks higglers had spread out
their vegetables for sale. I'umpkins and sweet po-
tatoes, little halip of beans, ripe bananas and
oranges, yams and green bananas were set forth,
and the women who sold them squatted on boxes or
at the thresholds of the shops and talked with one
another on topics that interested them. Down a
street came a woman pushing a little cart and sing-
ing, "yanm. plenty of yam for sale; and sweet pota-
to also." She went quickly, in her wake came a man
with a larger pushcart half filled with green bananas.
I accosted him: "How many bananas for a penny"
I asked.
"Twelve," he answered, and they were large
fingers and quite full.
"Do you sell many?"
"Well, not so much, for banana is quite ple'ntifutl
now. Howsoever. God is good, and we makes a penny
now and then. We must be thankful."
All this with a pleasant smile, as one who would
gladly give information to a foreigner; and this in-
deed is how I was repgaided in Jones Penn. I was
a foreigner, I had come from somewhere in KingsTron
I did not belong. But courtesy was my due, so every-
one was courteous. I asked strange questions, but
no person refused to reply. And I am satisfied that
everyone told me the truth.
T HE area of Jones Penn is about fifty-one acres:
H it is said to be divided into eight hundred and
fifty building lots. Nearly all of these lots have been
taken up, only a very few remain unbuilt upon. It is*
a working class town, a place for artisans and
domestic servants, for small clerks and the like; you
would not call the town's population middle class,
but it is superior working class, and many of the
cottages in it have a strip or tiny plot of land in
front of them In which are planted flowering shrubs
of various kinds. Many of these cottages have names.
This one is So-and-So Ville, that other is a Villa.
and you see at once that while all orders of the in-
habitants may be found In a self-same street, there
are localities of a distinctly better type thUn others.
There the cottages are larger, though the plots in
which they stand are small. The idea and the effort
is to use every square yard of land: yet regard in
Jones Penn is almost always paid to the necessity

of a garden Your self-respecting artisan or reputable
worker likes to have some shrubs in front of his
dwelling and a name on the gate thereof.
AS I walked along one of the streets of Jones Penn
three children. each of about four years of age,
rushed up to me and gave me the freedom of the
city. That is, they caught hold of my left hand and
shook it enthusiastically. laughing the while. I re-
turned their greeting, and there was pleasure on
both sides; their elders looked on approvingly, and
then I went my way. Only one person asked me
for alms that day. This was a woman who suggest-
ed threepence. and so I asked her why. A laugh
was the reply; I gathered that she had but sent up
a balloon at venture, not caring much whether she
was successful or not. The children did not beg.
They were intent on playing. They were enjoying
their holiday: on the Tuesday following (Monday be-
ing Easter Monday) they would troop to their schools
with their books and slates and begin the task of
learning once more. Their schools are within easy
reach; they have not to leave Jones Penn to receive
their education. Should their parents, too, have
money to save, there is a branch of the Government
Savings Bank at hand. In the building where it is
are also situated the Post and the Telegraph Offices;
thus you may post your letter or send your telegram
without stirring beyond the confines of Jones Penn,
Just as you may buy your groceries or your native
foodstuffs on the spot. And on Sundays you may
attend church within Jones Penn also, for there you
will find places of worship, the Baptist being, I think,
the largest.
IF contiguous Admirals' Penn, vaguely remembering
the glories of the eighteenth century, has named
some of its streets after famous English Admirals,
Jones Penn perpetuates the memory of modern Eng-
lish ministers who have been identified with religi-
ous work within its borders. Thus one of its streets
is Price Street. called so in honour of the Rev. Ernest
Price, now retired and in England. but for long a
worker in Jamaica. The near-by Police Station
serves both Jones Penn and Admirals' Town. but
Jones Penn has District Constables of its own, and
these decidedly uphold order and law. During the
afternoon I spent there, I did not hear a single sound
of strife. No voice was raised in altercation; In-
deed there was hardly any noise. The people looked
at me with a faint air of curiosity, not speaking un-
less addressed, but ready with a "good-afternoon" or
with information if spoken to. In tiny cubicles men
cobbled shoes or stitched suits, talking and laughing
quietly. Intent upon their business. There are tail-
ors In Jones Penn: there are renovators; one or two
little places hang out signs to inform you that they
are outfitters: and dressmakers are numerous.
THE shops that sell cloth are the tiniest I have
ever seen, places for one but hardly for two
assistants. I conclude that most of the stuff for
clothing. most of the ribbons and the rest, are bought
elsewhere than In Jones Penn, The barber shops
are also of the smallest, but as there are a fair num-
ber of these I know that the men get their hair cut
in Jones Penn. Hairdressers' establishments are not
wanting: some of these proclaim their presence with
painted heads of severe-looking ladies with remark-
able rotffeurs: there is a hat shop also there may
be more than one where the Jippa Jappa hat Is
sold: and if you are thinking of meat and not of
wherewith the body shall be clothed there is a beef
shop with its doors screened with fine mesh wire'
so that flies shall not break in and corrupt. There
is a bakery of quite respectable size in the town; I
also noticed advertised on one door that there is a
coal department in the town. But as many places
there sell charcoal, these also might claim the title
of department.
TILL wandering about, I came into a street which
I called the Street of Music. There was no noise
in it but from three different yards or houses issued
musical sounds. In one a gramophone was playing
softly; in two others small orchestras were prac-
tising airs. I imagined that these orchestras would
be m'nil hyed somewhere at dances and picnics on the
coming Easter Monday, and I suppose that they are
used fairly frequently in the town itself. For dances
are given in Jones P-nc. perhaps by subscription,
perhaps by some householder to his friends. When
one of these functions takes place, one need not go
outside the town for one's music; in the Street of
Music may be found what is required. I saw only
one small motor car in a yard in Jones Penn, how-
ever, and during the time I rent there only two
cars passing through it did I observe. But trucks
rush through the narrow streets of the town fairly
frequently, and of course there is a Jones Penn bus.
This is of medium size and it makes its appearance
at short intervals, and Is well patronised. Thus
those who wish to get quickly Into Kingston have no
difficulty whatever in doing so.
SSPENT a very interesting afternoon in a town
where once, as I knew, only stray dogs roamed
and ragged trees grew and mosquitoes haunted. It is
a town conscious of itself, and I fancy that its peo-
ple are proud of It. They made it almost entirely by
themselves; it represents an ambition achieved.







Decadent Town, once the

scene of lively (and not

too creditable) doings, to

undergo a rebirth under

British and American



N the toan of Port Royal a Naval Dockyard is
once again to be built. It is to be constructed
by Americans and with American capital. territori-
ally it will he British; but those who will have paid
for it will he at least its part-owners. Here is a
mixing up indeed, a joint ownership In which the
limits of each owner's rights it would be hard to
define. It may now be asked, when in the past was the
tread of any American naval or military unit ever
heard io the streets of Port Royal?

THE answer to that question is that the very
first armed company of volunteers that ever left
the shores of North America landed in Port Royal
in 17U3. This Company of Foot came to Jamaica
front Massarihsetts. then one of the British colon-
ies in North America. They were to take part in
a British expedition; they were Americans and yet
British, they probably regarded Port Royal as but
an extension of British-American territory if they
gave any thought whatever to its political position.
They found a town which was an island, with ex-
tremely narrow streets and lanes, unpaved, sandy,
ruined by the great earthquake of eleven years pre-
viously, and now waiting to be utterly destroyed by
fire But of course they could not guess what fur-
ther evil fate awaited Port Royal: they could not
guess that at about the same hour when had taken
place the earthquake of but little more than a decade
before there was to begin a conflagration which was
to rage all during the rest of the day and which
before nightfall would have "consumed all ye town
and left not one house of it standing."

LONG ago. before Spaniards or British knew rof
Jamaica. Port Royal had been an island. It was
a cay or islet, like many of the cays or islets
off the southern shore of this island; its founda-
rions were composed of rock rising out of the
depths of the sea; its upper part was the work
of the coral animals, and of the mangrove plants
which for generations and centuries had caught
the sand and other debris swept down into the
sea by the rivers on the mainland. There were
many little islets running from east to west of
what is now Kingston Harbour. The spaces be-
tween these were gradually filled up with sand. the
birds and the wind conveyed plant life to this long
arm of land. and thus arose the Palisadoes. The
westernmost ntd largest cay of all spread out in all
directions to an area of about one hundred acres.
When it was joined by drifting sand to the other
islets it became known as Cagua to the Arawak
Indians, and the Spaniards perpetuated the name.

THE Indians probably used It to embark from in
canoes on fishing expeditions to the outer sea:
the Spaniards of Jamaica had no use for it; for the
greater time during their occupation of the Island
they lived at St. Jago de la Vega or Spanish Town.
and probably never visited what was first known as
the Point by the English when they occupied Ja-
maica. and afterwards as Port Royal. But when
the English took Jamaica they saw at once the im-


portence of the Point. It was large enough to con-
tain some hundreds of houses: on its northern sid -
was a harbour which, though infinitely smaller than
what we now know as Kingston Harbour, was large
enough to accommodate a large number of the ships
which at that time fought in the wars or conveyed the
goods of maritime nations over the seas and oceans.

INGSTON was then mainly a forest with open
scattered spaces upon which cattle and horses
fed. It was perhaps unhealthier than Port Royal.
over which the sea breezes blew continually, al-
though fever-bearing sand-flies and mosquitoes tit-
tested the Point. A small population with sea-
faring predilections would find the Point most con-
veniently placed for a town; a population which
lived largely upon piracy, even if they called their
pursuits by names more polite, would also find the
Point well placed for the coming and going of ships.
Almost instinctively, therefore, the British took to
Port Royal and probably believed it to be a perman-
ent extension of the mainland. They did not know
it had been a small islet long before their day and
was largely compared of sand. But presently there
came the 'ii ithqiiak.' of June 1692. which sank that
part of the Palisadoes which connected Port Itoy::l
with the mainland, and caused to sink into the sea
also some two-thirds of the land that had in the last
forty years been covered with stone and brick houses
and with forts.

UT even after *i-.rthtu(luke and ire,. till Trafalgar
was fought, Port Royal was a Naval Station of
consequence; but it was a Naval Station that never
had actively to defend Itself or anything else, because
it was never attacked. Not once had the guns of
Port Royal thundered defiance at any foe; perhaps
if they had it might have been discovered that they
were not so very effective after all. However this
may be, an enemy attacking Jamaica in earlier days
gave Port Royal a wide berth and landed elsewhere
In the island. At the very time of the great earth-
quake, for instance, when the Ports of Port Royal
had been completely ldestroyed or desperately dam-
aged. the French were landing on the northside of
the island. They were beaten off within a few days
and their ship sunk; but they had left Port Royal
alone. And when Captain du Casse, the Governor
of San Domingo. determined to make a descent upon
this island two years after the occurrence of the
great earthquake It was at Carlisle Bay In the parish
of Clarendon that he landed, after having paid some
unwelcome attention to the parish of St. Thomas.

D CASSE actually reconnoitered Port Royal
from the sea, but evidently at a safe distance.
At any rate Port Royal was not called upon to fight
Du Casse's descent upon this island has been des-
cribed as "the most serious attempt at the capture
of Jamaica ever made upon Its shores during the
English occupation." and its outcome has been des-

cribed as a great Jamaica victory. It seems, how-
ever, that the Frenchman more desired booty in the
way of slaves, and the destruction of British works
and plantations, than to take the country. Still,
he did leave Port lIty:;l alone, and we shall never
know now whether that place would have success-
fully beaten off attempted invasion. Yet if it has
never had to ficht an enemy, it has certainly sent
out expedition after expedition against neighboring
enemies. 1Morgan and others sailed from Port Royal
against Spanish cities on the Spanish Main and in
Cuba; Nelson was for a few brief weeks in com-
mand of one of its forts, and, as is recorded above,
American armed volunteers, a whole Foot (omrany
of them, the first that ever left America on a mili-
tary adventure, landed in Port Royal as friends and
comrades in arms of the Jamaicans in 1703.

P RT ROYAL will be useful to America, and to
Great Britain also; it has been destined to un-
dergo a rcrt of rebirth. Never officially the capital
of Jamaica, it was nevertheless for nearly fifty years
the chief British town in Jamaica; it was filled with
residences and with warehouses; it was the island's
slave mart; it was a rendezvous of the buccaneers
or pirates-you may call them what you wish; it
was the scene of roystering and drunkenness. of de-
bauchery unrestrained and unrefined. But even in
its most uproarious days it had inhabitants who
looked upon themselves as "the gentry," though
some of them could not read and many of them had
sprung from low estate. These dressed, the men, on
state occasions, in satins and velvets, and wore
swords, while the ladies paid minute attention to
their coiffeurs. spread gold and silver plate upon
their tables, and looked down with an infinite dis-
dain upon those who were not of their own social

OT far from them might live the "ladies of the
life," painted, drunken. half-clothed women who
entertained all and sundry for a consideration and
who were more brazen than brass. In the dives of
the town liquor flowed, gold passed from hand to
hand, men swore and fought, making both night
and day hideous. But there were churches in Port
Royal too. It boasted before its destruction in 1692
of Christ Church then said by its people to be the
finest church In all the Americas perhaps one of
the usual exaggerations. Nothing remains of Christ
Church today. nothing remains of the first forts
built In Port Royal at the beginning of this year
the town dozed, a miserable collection of ancient
shacks, with a few old buildings here and there,
within sound of the waves that washed its southern
shore. Yet it knew that another change was to take
place in its fortunes, a sort of Anglo-American
change, and that a new era was opening up for Port
Royal. an era entirely different from that which it
had known during the hectic days of its existence
in the seventeenth century.




WIEN on a morning of March this year a repre-
sentative of Planters' Punch' entered the spaci-
ous grounds of St. thigh s H1Lgh School with the :ho-
togralher of Messrs. C'liiry and Elliot, the first
thought that came to him was that in anything he
might say about the institution he must avoid men-
tioning education. At that moment he was Iiiinly
convinced that while most persons spoke with re-
spect about education they all heartily hated it and
would prefer to hear nothing about it. He felt that
the Jamaica adults were like the children of his
day who loved to play truant, or perhaps, even more,
like the Jamaica adults of the first two hundred
years and more of Jamaica's existence as a British
colony. For these former Jamaicans had little use for
learning, except that which referred to tll Ing. horse-
racing, drinking. making sugar and growing other
crops, and a knowledge of these things may be come
by without painful mental applicatlun No one need
know French in order to be drunk, and the utterly
illiterate may yet be a cood jockey and cheat in a
race with the most erudite man that ever rode.
BUT, after all, one cannot visit a school devoted
to the higher education of our girls and say no-
thing whatever about education, even though one
may deal but lightly with that subject. And ihe
purpose of this publiratlon was to depict in pictures
and words something of what was being done for
the training and development of Jamaica girls.
The writer had asked the headmistress of the St.
Hugh's High School to allow him to visit the estab-
lishment with a view to writing about the efforts
now made for the education of girls who will be the
women of tomorrow and will take part in so many
activities besides those of the domestic circle; there-
fore the presumption was that readers of this jour-
nal were somewhat interested in higher education;
from which it followed that the Planters' P'unc' man
began by honkingg nonsense, by wrongly estimating
the present Jamaican attitude towards training and
knowledgec He now hopes to reform and to wriie
some sense in these pages. But that will be difli-
THE St. IHugh 1 High School is now situated in
nearly eight acres of land in the suburban part
of Kingston, and in its last report it is stated that
from the windows of the upper story of the largest
building a beautiful view of the Blue Mountains may
be obtained. I did not obtain this view, as I had
already seen quite enough of the Blue Mountains;
what interested me far more was a circle of girl

The alert young ladies we see

in our business offices are the

former pupils of our modern

High Schools for Girls, where

the education and training

are excellent

children seated under a spreading tree and engaged
upon some scholastic subject or the other. There
they sat, quiet, wellbeh.avedi all clad in light-green,
which is the distinctive uniform of the school. In-
doors, both in the big house and in the new con-
crete school house, a large number of girls pm,,'d
over books, while their various mistresses sat at
raised platforms and superintended and directed the
scholars. There were over two hundred children
present, the ages ranging from five to eighteen. Those
from five to nine, I was iinfirmned. were in the Pre-
paratory School and studied apart; the older girls
were in forms or classes ranging from 1 to 6. When
the writer appeared suddenly at the door of any of
the rooms, he was aware that his presence attracted
a swift glamnr. but nothing more. After that, every-
body went on with her work. But if he entered the
room the class rose a0 one. Then seats were resumed
and work went on as usual.
A N imiIIllc.'li number orofthlldi these girls, and
representative of the middle-classes and better-
off classes of Jamaica. Their parents wish that rlh.-
eliall begin life with a good education; hence they
go to St. lluEll s to be taught Latin and French.
Algebra, Geometry and Arithmetic, General Science.
i'iclli-l llisriry. l)r.a ing. inging and all the rest,
and to be prepared (those who wish it) for the Lon-
don Matriculation, the Cambriige Higher School
Certificae and so forth. The teaching staff has to
be competent and keenly interested in its work:
energetic, and with an understanding of child psy-
chology. Miss Gunter. the Headmistress, who is an
M.A. (Hons.) of (ixford. was emphatic in telling me
of the qualifications and devotion of her assistants.
And while she talked and I watched the girls, anw
the photographer took his pictures with every evi-

d ucne of a desire to achieve the best results, my
mind again wandered to the days of the past wh-n
there was no girls' school in Jamaica. Why, I re-
membered that even twenty-one years ago the St.
Andrew's ligh School had not yet been founded,
that this St. Hlugh School was in its infancy, that
only the Wolmer's Girls' School was a lourishing
institution. T.day the three schools that I have
named educate nearly a thousand children at a time.
This is in Kingston and St. Andrew only, but there
are other schools also in the corporate area doing
the same kind of work. And, of course, there are
schools for girls in different parts of the island.
W lIEN a girl leaves an institution like St. Hugh's
at about seventeen or eighteen years of age she
has received a good education and perhaps she de-
cides to enter an office. Hence we see in every Ja-
maica business now a number of young ladies, with
alert, trained minds, carrying themselves nicely,
speaking well, and thinking nothing about taking
on work which would have seemed impossible to their
grandmnother-a and difficult even to their mothers.
They are always tastefully and quietly dressed; their
skirts seem always to have been freshly ironed, their
blouses neat and pretty; when questioned they an-
swer to the point, and I have heard a girl of nine-
teen pointing out to her superior officer of over sixty
just why a certain thing should be done in a new
way and not in the old-and her view was accepted!
When the day's work is done these girls do not go
home to don loose dressing gowns and lounge about
untidily as was the old Jamaica fashion. They read,
or go out to tennis, hockey, basket ball. or at night
they resort to the picture places; or they go for
rides in motor cars, or they entertain guests or listen
to the radio. They are independent in gait and in
mind; they are a new generation, a different genera-
tion from that which we knew some fifty years ago.
They are competent. They are the product of our
High Schools for Girls.
THERE were no such large schools as St. Hugh's
anywhere in Jamaica a century ago; there were
no schools for girls some two hundred years since,
thutigh our young women of the better-off classes
did learn to read and write and cipher. Beyond
that they rarely went; it was probably not considered
necessary that a girl should be well educated: in-
deed, it seems that it was regarded as highly per-
nicious that she should be. Even a boy did not need
to know much. If he were the son of a wealthy
man he was sent to England: I fancy that in the





majority f illi.ill, Ill- he -' t ill I'"
England niot sn Iltiih hi r;nOusI'
what he nlilght lea: n ill .1 -rhiinl l t1
university there. hill lIr'uise. III-
perenis having Iniolly ilh s'lendIl g i ;
une's offspring ia.a)y m;i- is .nsii.,il I
the prnptr thing Soiln' cirl- u'i t
also despltcheiild ovs.t' s l.S is,, estahlil.h
ments '"to Ib pinlishs'd' lIthey neeld.
the polishing. land aftieni lhey gil nim',',
than this. Nev,-rtheli's- pdiallllotnn "i
girls was nol highly regard id in J.I
maira. aid ilhe ladls who keplt "I ii
vale schools aere. iitnint if Ihl'f '
few pupils could i:rld a1ilh.iil t iimini
to disaster in thre middle of the prniti
ed pace. ituld wrilt- a f.ir hand. cilullil
dance and sini! while It ihil. tlachr'i
knew si-nie French iind iniildl iip.Ir J't
that nt a few piliniln ing putl il-, it .v:t.s
felt that hhe wa.i- .i rpein rk.ihl[e [i
son %hirh. no dolihi sh:'i hlllouglih
ly belis'VPe heisttlf

B L'T sh ;:,: hlllinllh- I ilm sp'.l
Inu ilinw I h i silidl nslll if l
hundrfd yr varHI'. i"s Tliml- s a t I'
changii n n .reltady tlh,.- miile -I .hi*il
m a-ltr W,.- iiill!.i : 1.i II t Iltk dil llip lll
as huniinn and te i p.l-I t l,' ulld t.f
course thi priiat s' h i i ni s l Ist't l 'i
0to I reslie 'iable .il,-. Their sIlnti .
w as inii 1 1r vinl :. ih tI i'l lil -t. I ll hIII,-
womin S cLII 'l ndl ilyll 1 I ii 'r ci'iilill ,
it he -aid is L. she lhad taid in ITloi.
that "lh noffirt of .1 I.'each r 1i- Iiki.d
uplln :I I i ltepiilpt lilli .ind 1 ii ll II...
man k. 'Si.ts somlniitny tV lt % ii' of 1 th.t
charilt' r .A iiinln .iit lny pIarts *1
learning lh.t winuld emnipllls himself t FEW
In that business wild he dRspist-d
and starved No. thr teacher had ceased II be pusi
lively de.Ipield. I1ut his l 'lilliiu % uasi t l i1 high ont
aud his elPectlin l s II hby 1<> lineinsh sitr,.. since i..I.
rents were nil vi-ry particulll tu r aH to lyin scho l
fees Schirl after school l rl.nhedl in J.lamaiati b-)
cause Ihere wa- ii.t i nloueh iioney to krep Ihelti
going. and- sirange tIhougih it night la I:ii appr.-d
to Ihe Jiumniiail ni .1 forniu pt-rid A.1 l i'her had
to eat and wear r-Iothin-- Now and Ihlen ia few ph.
lanthrorlir peisolls. struck with thir real regnrd ini
which general lignirun iie wais held bill lt sharingl
in this regard. wuiiild beqientlih a snmull sl of oInin.y
to found a school for the better classes if peopI-
but siinehow this money alnmstl invariably isuirppe;ii
ed-thriiugh mniHaapprtprialiiin. ii aas -Ki A.t :iny
rate. the s-h.hil- did nli il liE: nal ist T'h-li w.i'-I
intended. to, I- hIe ahslly. at least nininly for boy-'.
the girls cisuld learn wlinil Ihe- nithtl .t1 hoii'. or
go to riv'iat. -.Phiils sif S1a so I hat wiulMI ble eilliiiCh
for them Iti i tiltn tIhe Ill'ts'rllith inlrily ha;id
spent half its tilour-e. ithe lls IIe-itin it ie lllssrre
thought of The middle. clssit-s if Jainail:lri were
stirrinel In unit- s-i t si ,f vague diln 11 a:l' y IheyV
grasping the fctI ithai edii'alion u ild insk- it gi en.lt
different i Iheir ihildi nii

c' ,.


H,.;1II:l i edtllnl.llnii fltr Juninii'a grl's IIs isoInii.d
id bti'egani Io bisoim some fifty or ixtly y)ar-i
aico adlinlg thi stbjelis iinrulcalerd la Ihe lllnlninllg
if thi dtevelmlleipnit was asnoblbihness There ieile
si-nit pIvai. scl hlill.ls for ycoun ladies that made il
ki ii i iiidlitd'i'rll i that they oi ly accept d as 'ill-
pils -i'ls of a certTrln class falliiig helo this i'.
1ilill n114l11nl 'tni11"r llnE l1ady had tI find imnnli ollirr
I.IHlI iII % hslihl In lihe t-iiirltedtl SNatRlll lll) the g llI
kllt'ht Ils. illti 'fire. I I is le pupil III iil pirllicut'' r
4 hrisl minrked i.n' itit as itibelngiing to ai suieriru
ssiill ,.rdt-r. lietw? ,e-n the a ieiepitd Igrls iand the
tll h rs wh1 hn t ii t III dusll'r,il ili llll es'iilllllllshnl it Alli sh
I Iullll oTl h' so fext'!il-i'' there wr:s Ia ireat gulf fi.,.
di I th hl.i-r y'-iin': ladl-es knew their pinlve lndl
Pi prtrtd ithl liweti- illes Is kiinw lhi'ir' ali Thi-
a:i. IhI. u iiis. of nuit i Illlerntri i 1nd Irt'le's lin.'n .
111r i l yoVlnll, d-1 t11 l tito i. o thei llh Ill w ill uit ilhl.
lame lullt i n' I deaiirllng tol keep fall otlihe in ai Iiw-
-1.. pilil C StI II. yt.Vrii I i lisn ls ,f fifty 11r -ixl y yt.'ir-
.'L', fllrl is edhtl bVctniiist If ihiis i'nri ful t nsllsh 'iery. aind
II m.I- s,1l fIn l Ig.llih 1. 111 :I % h .i r el l a h 1 p ill ill
. s!.' Ilightyl'y-' .\l i.idn 1 .y f.ir 'i nin I ldill--
D I. I(II'A'Y. li, 'Alnl-r. ls rretping in. snorn
dI-insit, r.i y infill Ibe nlloping areac. : lnd its

is" -


pr.ieiress affeited educational establishments as every-
thing e'l-. government began to recognize the needs
osf SeiP.ndary Education of higher education in Ja-
riaiila 'imnllll those classes of the community who
would value it, if placed within their reach, but
whuse i eintans do not enable them to send their child-
Ili pI it Eurlop for the purpose of obtaining it." Grants
it educational institutions began to be given by Gov-
i rnntienl anid even given to girls schools; and plass'
tlus assist-d could not be "exclusive." And, somne
sf them uilmnenced to exhibit what was (from the
iiiwpiiit sf private exclusive institutions) a pain-
fuil effelt'ncy Something clearly was going wrong
with the staIe. Its foundations were being shaken.
Would inot the parents of an exclusive description
rise. itn stirn revolt against this? Alas, whatever
inay have hben the inclination of parents, most of
thls', fe-I that they must be practical. Exclusive
sR ni-rigntl anie would not be enough for their girls.
.\Ad if ithi .i-rsisted establishments could give a better
iantd ai lis'llser education than those that lthlr'ieht
IIire- s.f sit.atus than of IpIntl ncllii y in scholastic sub-

A l.ARil; i rtiportion of Jamaica girls from these
SSe' iiindary Schools seek, as I have said, polf-
lions in offices and the like., but
thliyt do not imagine that this sort
of work will constitute their career:
most 4fM them expect to marry, and
do marry. It is true I heard an
s.Iridilv lady once lament that all
the Jamaica young men were get-
ting married, while the girls re-
mained single: but when I pointed
out to her that the men could only
wed the girls she stilled her lamen-
tations, though I have never been
certain that she changed her view.
Theos girls work for sB.te time--I
write of the majority and then
they disappear from the arena of
business into homes of their own.
It may be that after a time they
forget much that they have learnt-
the languages, the Int- ili;'iin:lii s all
the more difficult subjects. Is it not
,.lus ilhy the same with men? Your
IUniversity graduate: can he read
the classes in the -riginal twenty,
Seven ten years after he has left the
'varsity? No.-t easily, aillnin. but
his mind has received a training
and a disw iplin that will stand him
in good stead all the days of his
life: and it is precisely the same
with these girls of our Secondary
Schools. They are all the better,
are inllillltely better, for the educa-
tion they have received; it has be-
come a part of them; they read.
-i thev can think for themselves. And
S" .- they will help create a new Jamaica,
the Jamaica that is devteltping un-
.'''-:'_.', der our very eyes, whether we see
it or not.



Suffering from a painful

complication of Leaf Spot,

Panama Disease and


T was suggested some years ago that, to para-
phrase the well-known verse of Scripture, "He
who owneth a banana plantation is greater than
he who hath acquired the wisdom of the world." It
was said that in certain parts of the island, no mat-
ter what might be the subject introduced for con-
versation, invariably the talk would turn to the
price being paid for bananas, and the dishonesty
of all concerned in handling that fruit. It even came
to be believed that no man could be truthful who
bought or sold bananas; yet the mere fact that he
produced this article entitled him to a respect which
Socrates could not command and which St. Paul would
have considered excessive if offered to himself.
THESE contradictions puzzled the unsophisticated.
They spoke of Banana Barons, but did not un-
derstand why bananas should confer a patent of no-
hility: they even heard talk of "Banana Backras,"
and then they found that these "backras" might be
men with but four or five acres in bananas, whereas
the backra of old was a member of the dominant
and dominating class at the sight of whom all in-
ferior persons hid their diminished heads. Winds
might blow, diliough persist, banana plantations
be levelled to the ground, destruction and desolation
be observed from one end of the country to the other.
It did not matter; the banana would spring tup
again, green and triuniphanit ihe ships would call
at our ports for them; the
praedial thief would pray
God to aid him steal a bunch
or two of fruit, and the sev-
eral Fruit Companies doing
business in Jamaica would
still be reproached for
things that they did and for
things that they never
thnugph of doing. In those
days one did not think of






war, one spoke but of exterminating Panama Disease
"next year." One had not heard of Leaf Si,, Disease
as yet. Future calamities did not much trouble
the banana mind. The banana reigned, and we all
felt that it would keep its enemies under its roots,
and still be king.

THIISE days now seem like a century ago. In
1935, for instance, there were over 3."1 ') ban-
ana men supplying the fruit for export, in 1937 the
number had further grown. What is the num-
ber Iday How deport themselves those who still
plant and sell the banana? Not as before. For now
they speak in quiet tones; their aspect is subdued; if
their conversation is still of the green and Rgldent
fruit, it is not like the talk of yore, hopeful, crintdlnil.
full of belief as to the better ithins that were going
to happen in the future. You may indeed imagine
the banana industry now as a sort of sick room. On
the bed lies the banana, gravely stricken though not
yet at death's door; ill from Leaf S Pi. from Pan-
ama l)n beCr. from the effects of war, attended by
doctors of grave aspect and a good bedside manner,
by Dr. Samuel Zemurray and Dr. Thomas Bredshaw
of the United Fruit Clinic, while inside the room
are the friends and relatives who know that if the
banana dies there will be niothine left for them in
the will. Indeed Ily v realise that there can be i.o
will, since there is nothing to lhqu;jillth Here is a
case where the patient's life has got to be preserved,
it lI-.1,ibliI at all costs: hence there are tears in the
eyes of friends and relatives, tears of -*IIfpiiy. for
the loss of a once profitable source of income is a
terrible :hiinlg



sJW ILL he survive?" is the whispered question.
V Some enquirers are frankly peF siiiiistlI. they
fear the worst. They always do. Others are or IImistrc;
these endeavour to interpret in a cheerful fashion
the report that the patient has just wriggled a big
toe, or has muurmured a prayer which sounds very
much like America's National Anthem. But the
most of those who wait and watch do not know wheth-
er to hope or to fear, though they are not indifferent.
Now and then they curse Adolf Hitler, to whom they
attribute their misfortune; but when they remember
that Panama Disease came before the Hitler disease,
and that even the latter but followed Leaf Spot Dis-
ease, they fall into frichtltned silence again. Mean-
time Dr. Zemurray and Dr. Bradshaw continue to
feel the pulse of the patient and to propose a little
spraying here, a little shipping there, by way of
alleviating his pain. And far away the Consulting
Physician. known as Dr. Imperial Government, con-
tributes medicine by an annual purchasing of twelve
million stems of bananas, leaving it to the people on
the spot to make what arrangements they can to en-
sure that this medicine shall have the greatest pos-
sible effect.

STANDING in the corridor of the United Fruit
Companyy. Offices at Pier 3, North River, in New
York one day in May of 1940 the present writer talk-
ed to Mr. Samuel Zemurray about Jamaica bananas
and the war. Mr. Zemurray had left his sanctum
to discuss with the officer in charge of ships and
shipping whether :ianytiing more could be done to
facilitate the Jamaica tourist trade. This had been
the matter put before him by the writer, and he
was interested in it because of Jamaica: he wanted
to help Jamaica if he could and he showed an active
personal concern. I asked him whether the United
States would be able to take any Jamaica bananas
in the event of there being a shortage of British ship-
ping to convey bananas to England At that mo-
ment no shortage had been announced. On the other
hand, there was a lack of bananas in Jamaica
owing to the hurricane of November 1939. This Mr.
Zemurray pointed out, adding that at that moment
the British Government was endeavouring to get
bananas from Central America to meet the demand
in England. "Yes." I replied, "that
is so at present; but I am thinking
of the future. Do you think the
United Fruit Company will be able to
take some of our bananas for Amer-
cla in the event of our not being able
to send them to England?"
I HAD in mind as I spoke the de-
struction of shipping during the
first Great World \\ar: I remember-
ed that it was difficult during the !at-
ter years of that war for us to obtain


2- 44'I *-

~cfyT-/LL k c-r------

ships for almost any purpose; also that bananas
occupied a considerable amount of space and, that
not living a1 necessity in wartime, it was quite
likely that the shipment of them to Great Britain
would In either eonsirl ibly curtailed or sus-
pended Mr. Zemurray answered my question
unhesitatingly. "I suppose we could," he said,
"we will do our best"; and with that answer I
was ssatstriid. I was certain he would know whether
han:na.n fromim Jamaica could be sold in the United
States. I was convinced that if he did his best to
push our fruit in the States we should at any rate
obtain soine market there. For he had the ship-
ping and he could charter more: the voyage be-
tween Jamnaica and New York was but a short one
comparatively; the carriage of bananas did not ab-
solutely require the sort of ships then used for it:
quite smaller boats, unrtfrigerated. could serve our
purpose excellently at a pinch. All this was clearly
in my mind. And so when, before the end of 1940.
it was announced in Jamaica that England could no
longer spud us ships for bananas, British shipping
being required for more important purposes, and it
was added that nevertheless the British Government
would purchase twelve million stems of bananas a
year to keep alive the Jamaica industry, the promise
of Mr. Zemurray shone like a ray of light in the
prevailing gloorn
GOINtG about the streets of Kingston towards the
end of 1940 one observed crowds of people wait-
ing at certain depots for the free distribution of
bananas These were women principally, old, young
and middle-aged, with boys among them, and a few
men also The men looked like professional poll-
ticians: that is to say, they gave one the impression
of regarding manual labour with high disdain. The
women had a more businesslike appearance, and their
presence at these depots was for the purpose of ob-
taining bunches of fruit gratis, an unexpected wind-
fall created by war and British money. The streets
were positively green with bananas elevated on the
heads of pedestrians or packed into handcarts, of
which an extraordinary number had suddenly made
their appearance, like unexpected tanks on a battle-
field. To use a current popular expression. "Ban-
anas were knocking down Kingston." But this ex-
pression was strictly metaphorical, for nobody was
seen to hurl a banana at anything else. In the coun-
try districts one might throw bananas about. There

the individual lnng'r of fruit had hardly acquired
value in the eyes of the people, but in Kingston it
was always otherwise. Old women marching home
with bunches of bananas on their heads were heard
to mutter audibly. "Thanks be to ;od." Those who
pushed the green or ripening stems about the streets
offered them for sale at a price lower than had been
known in the city for many years. Thousands, tens
of thousands of stems of bananas were being given
away all over Jamaica. If it was not exactly the
free bread and circus of Ancient Rome, It was de-
.idedly now the free bananas of Great Britain.

UT this did not seem exactly wise to thoughtful
people. Some of these wanted bananas, but pre-
ferred to pay for them than to accept them grati-.
Others remembered that Canada still purchased batn-
anas and would take a portion of the twelve million
Etrms which England was paying for; in another place
this writer insisted that some of the Jamaica fruit
could and would be purchased in the United States.
All this would not prevent a free distribution of
bananas; but the sale of a portion of the crop would
have three consequences. First. it would save Eng-
land some of the money she was prepared to pay
out as a subsidy to the Jamaica industry. Next, It
would assist those banana cultivators who, producing
bananas for local sale and not for exportation. would
be hard hit if twelve million stems a year were dis-
tributed gratis. Thirdly. it would keep alive the
banana market in Canada and would do something
to develop once again a market for Jamaica bananas
in the United States. These considerations appealed
to almost everyone. The Government got busy: it
approached the United Fruit Company. The United
Fruit Company got busy; one guesses that It had
been thinking of this development for some time
and was prepared to act. Mr. Tom Bradshaw was
summoned to Boston and New York. Mr Tom Brad-
shaw was despatched to London by the Jamaica Gov-
ernment to discuss the purchase and handling caf
Jamaica bananas with high official authorities there.
Through the air flew Dr. Tom: it has never been
stated whether as he went he looked up and around,
and even down, to see whether a stray bomb might
be coming in his direction. I feel certain that he
did not say to himself "Safety lFrst"; there would
have been no sense anyhow in saying that. He did
not think of "Tom Bradshaw first"; he was on a
job and that job had to be fulfilled. But he may

have said "Bananas first." thus hurling defiance at
the enemy. For Tom Bradshaw being an English-
man, his natural inclination would always be to hurl
defiance at the enemy. That is the spirit.

W ITH the beginning of 1941 we began to have
ships sailing to the United States with bananas
as in the days of old. This fruit had never ceased
to be sent to Canada, and Canada was shortly to
put an embargo on the entry into the Dominion of
bananas from foreign countries, except when spe-
cial licenses were granted This was done to give
to fruit from the British West Indies more of the
Canadian market than before; it was a gesture of
value intended as assistance to British banana rro-
ducing countries; and shipping for this fruit was
still available. The Canadians must have felt that
there was some obligation upon them to do what
they could for the children of the House. Did
Samuel Zemurray and the United Fruit Company
think this also? Hardly so; for Jamaica was
British, though Rngland was on the friendliest pos-
sible terms with the United States, and the United
Fruit Company had for decades been closely con-
nected with Jamaica. But Mr. Samuel Zemurray
wanted to be of some assistance to Jamaica
and to England: of that there can be no possible
doubt. It may be of some benefit to enlarge upon
this here, since it is doubtful if the position of the
United Fruit Company as a banana grower in other
countries, and as a general exporter of bananas from
lands outside the United States in time of war, has
been properly understood.

THUS it may be believed that anybody could have
bought bananas in Jamaica at the beginning of
1541 and have sold them in the United States. But
shipping was scarce, and an organization for the
selling of bananas in America has either to be in
existence or must be created. It is not easy to create
such an organisation or to obtain the required ship-
ping, and although there are more than one or two
Companies selling bananas in the States, these
could obtain more bananas than the States might
require, because of the conditions in Europe. Think
of it for a moment. If no bananas could go to Eng-
land. how many bananas could go to Germany,
France, Holland or another part of Europe? They
would not have got very far, assuming that there
were ships to carry them, which means that the



countries producing bananas in the Western Hemi-
sphere had all to endeavour to find a market for them
in the United States.
OT Jamaica only but Colombia, Costa Rica.
Guatemala, Honduras. Guadeloupe and Martin-
ique, Cuba also, Mexico and other American coun-
tries became interested even more than before in the
United States banana market. And should there be a
prospective shortage of bananas for America, that
could speedily be made up by increased cultivation
in lands within the American Hemisphere. In 1936
the Jamaica Banana Commission (a body of gentle-
men sent out to this colony from England, had
stated that "there seems little doubt that an in-
creased demand could quickly bring about consid-
erable additional supplies, though to what extent
cannot be adequately estimated. Brazil claims that
she can double or treble her production, Honduras
and other Central American countries could increase
theirs by fifty per cent Haiti plan to export
four million stems in seven years' time, and other
Caribbean Islands are embarking on the industry
on a smaller scale." It is quite true that this Corn-
mission also pointed out that "the spread of Pana-
ma Disease and the toll of hurricanes might at any
time neutralize these expansions"; and I expect that
banana production everywhere will rather decrease
than increase in the future. But I am writing of
the present; and it would be foolish to believe that,
with the whole of the European market closed to
bananas now, America could not obtain a sufficiency
without any supply from Jamaica. Hence It is that
one is forced to conclude that, by taking some of
our fruit for America, Mr. Zemurray and the
United Fruit Company have been actuated by
a wish to assist Jamaica and to be of some service to
NDER an arrangement arrived at some years
ago it was agreed that the Jamaica Banana
Producers Association should ship all their banana
supplies to Great Britain and Europe and should not
ship to Canada or the U.S.A. The Canadian market
for Jamaica bananas was to be taken care of by the
United Fruit Company and the Standard. These Com-
panies also shipped Jamaica bananas to England and
Europrt and the entire produ tlion of Jamaica was
marketed in Canada, Great Britain and Europe for
many years preceding the War. It was also stipulated
that in the event of war breaking out this
arrangement could be denounced. each organisation
being left free to act as it pleased. When this
war began, however, none of the companies show-
ed any disposition to act except on the terms of
the arrangement existing; but it was patent that
with the cessation of shipments to England it
could hardly have been maintained that the United
Fruit Company must ship only so many stems
of bananas to England. and that the Jamaica Banana
Producers' Association must ship so many-no ban-
anas could go to England. It would have been equal-
ly foolish for anyone to say that the American mar-
ket must be opened to the Jamaica Banana Producers'
ships: the Association has lost its ships and it had
no selling organisation in the United States. So the

whole of our Jamaica banana business, such as it
was-the remnant that remained to us at the begin-
ning of 1941-had to be reorganized on a new footing
and with a new method altogether. But the Jamaica
bananas purchased from the Government by the
United Fruit Company have still been purchased pro-
portionately. as far as possible, from the contractors
connected with the three companies. Former estab-
lished arrangements have been respected.
I brotherly love had not always continued between
the banana companies in Jamaica and the per-
petual continuation of brotherly love may not perhaps
be a good thing in the banana or any other busi-
ness-there had at any rate to be friendliness and
co-operalion among these banana organizations "for
the duration." As a matter of fact some kind of co-
operation had developed in the previous four years;
now, with a smaller supply of fruit, and especially
with a greatly reduced market, and that market Am-
erican and Canadian, co-operation was imperative
and inevitable. Whatever might happen after the
war, we had to think of what would happen during
the war. The United Fruit Company buys Jamaica
bananas at a price that varies according to what is
received for them abroad. This price may increase
later on. The British Government pays the
Jamaica producer 3/- per count bunch; some
producers complain that, with the higher cost
of cultivation, this does not cover the cost of produc-
tion. So some of the producers are going out of
banana cultivation; but others are remaining in it.
believing that after the war bananas will again be
in demand at a better price; and one feels that they
are right. The United Fruit Company. however, is
buying Jamaica fruit at a somewhat higher price
than it can produce bananas for in Central and
South America; and the fact upon which people in
Jamaica have to fix their attention is that it is to
the advantage of the British Government and to Ja-
maica that a proportion of our bananas should be
sold in the United States instead of being given or
thrown away in Jamaica.
T this point one can hear indignant protests from
someone who wishes to feel that a great in-
justice is being done to the underdog, and will not
tolerate it so long as he has a voice to utter a cry
or a sheet of paper on which to write a letter to
the newspapers. "Was it not intended," says such
a one. "that at least a part of the fruit for which
England decided to pay should be given to the poor?"
It was. And there has been a free distribution of
fruit. It was computed in the middle of this year
that the American and Canadian markets together
would take some six million stems of bannas, or,
at most, six and a half million stems. The remaind-
er had to be disposed of in Jamaica. A part of it,
as said already, is sold: the rest is distributed free
to people who obtain, from different persons and
officers, tickets entitling them to one, two, or even
half a dozen sterns a week. These indigent ones
are recommended by parsons, social workers and
the like, and they are solemnly presented with
their certificates of ne~d-so'mtimes obtained
through deliberate misrepresentation. But what

of that? As Mr. Doolittle argues in Bernard Shaw's
play, the undeserving poor have the same appetites
as the deserving poor, and are often much more in-
teresting. Why should they also not have some
bananas? Whaur.er. anyhow, may be the highly
moral arguments brought against them (mainly by
persons who themselves might fail to stand any-
thing like scrutiny), the fact remains that the un-
righteous ones have managed to get some bananas
gralis. exa tly like the righteous-if any.
A ND at the worst, bananas have been cheap.
Come with me for a moment. I take you to
one of the five banana depots established by Gov-
ernment in Kingston: there are others of more or
less the same sort in different parts of the island.
A banana train has come in from the country; a
portion of the fruit has been selected for export.
Some of it has been rejected as not now exportable:
it will be sold for next to nothing. But a proportion
of the bananas brought in by train, and not to be
e ported, has been taken also: these are for local
consumption. A truck or lorry, two lorries, more,
are laden and sent to this depot, others are sent
to that, the stems are received and heaped inside
the building on the floor, and then both purchasers
and those who get fruit without money and with-
out price appear. The price is known to the pur-
chasers. A full bunch (containing from nine to
twelve hands as the case may be) is sold for sixpence
- the British Government pays the grower three
shillings for it. An eight hand stem fetches five-
pence, a seven-hand stem fourpence. a six-hand stem
threepence. And, mark you, they are not "wingey"
bananas, fruit suffering from a sort of mal-nutrition.
The fingers are usually big and fat; the fruit has
been well-fed and is quite respectable: it is not of an
inferior banana status. The buyers may be house-
holders who want a stem of fruit. But they mostly
are middle men who want to retail the fruit. They
make their selections carefully. They buy so many
stems, but only some of these do they take with them.
Others they leave with the person in charge of the
depot these will ripen and be retailed as "ripe ban-
anas": and for the storing of these at the depot there
is no charge.
YOU see, the depots do not carry on a retail busi-
ness; you must buy a whole stem or nothing.
But the middle-man will sell a dozen green bananas
for three half-pence, and even four ripe bananas to
a child for a half-penny. This suits the small pur-
chaser, who actually prefers to patronise the retail-
er: "we must all get a bread," he says, by which,
presumably, he means a living out of bananas. A
very proper spirit. So he buys bananas cheap; and
the school children also buy bananas cheap; and the
deserving and undeserving poor get bananas for no-
thing, and nearly enough money is obtained by this
selling of bananas to pay the expense of storing and
disposing of them. Some six million stems are put
within the reach of people almost for nothing or
actually for nothing, which must be a great hard-
ship to those who would wish to make a grievance
out of the handling of this astonishing gift to Ja-
maica by the Imperial Government.





(Continued from Page 7)
Impossible that such men should feel happy at finding
themselves almost (as they felt) hog-tied at every
turn. No local Government department or person
had had any previous experience in operating war
controls: the sort of war that either'it or he had had
experience of was at the most a departmental squab-
ble, with letters as weapons and with nothing at
stake. Now It had suddenly become different; the
situation had become very real and very earnest;
a public department was organised to deal with the
business affairs of a community, affairs hitherto con-
ducted by private individuals. To imagine there-
fore that all friction could be avoided was to ima-
gine the impossible; but on the whole, when one
considers the matter, the friction has hitherto been
very little, the general spirit of agreement and
accommodation has been remarkable. For this
the business men of Jamaica must be given high
credit. Some of them grumbled, but very few of
them were ever unreasonable. Each has come to
see the other's difficulties more or less, and the ten-
dency has been to help one another in the hand-
ling of these difficulties. But if the businessmen
of Jamaica must be given great credit for the develop-
ment of much harmony between them and Francis,
he too must be accorded credit for this. Thus I be-
stow approbation impartially on both parties; but
must add here that no control department can ul-
timately succeed that ignores the business element
of Jamaica.

A ND now let us see briefly what was the work that
had to be done. Every importer had to be quota'd.
At the beginning this quoting was not severe;
goods could still be obtained in considerable quanti-
ties from England. her man-power was still mainly
devoted to producing for export. Nor was the need
for dollar currency by England then so exigent as
It was afterwards to become; one could still get
dollars to buy things in the United States, though
Great Britain was paying to maintain the pound
sterling rather over twenty-four shillings for five
American dollars. Canada was also a dollar coun-
try in which Great Britain was buying largely, and
the Canadian dollar had become worth more than
four shillings. Soon word went forth that Jamaica
must as much as possible refrain from purchasing in
countries where the pound was at a discount. This
insistence increased as the month went by, and
so did the quoting of all imported goods. Many a
private dealer threw up his hands in despair. He
would be ruined, he cried, and this fear has not died
away with the Increasing restrictions, the necessity
of some of which is questioned. Then there was the
price-fixing. Invoices for goods imported had to be
sent to the Food Controller, alias the Competent Au-
thority on textiles, corrugated zinc sheets, tinned
cornbeef and all the rest of it. and he had to say
what percentage of profit must be allowed, regard
being had to import prices which altered every
now and then. Was there a sufficient margin of pro-
fit on perishable goods? On non-perishable? Could
onions stand the strain of war like iron? How long
would rice last? And when did weevils begin to de-
velop in flour? On both sides tempers were rather
high. But a spirit of reasonableness still prevailed
in the business community. One hopes that it always

B UT there was the general public. Let us say
that saltfish goes up a half-penny a pound. "Why
has Smith put up the price of saltish?" is the ques-
tion asked with indignation, and it is felt that from
the position of King of Codfish Francis should be
demoted and proclaimed an enemy of the common-
wealth. He has not been sufficiently vigilant. Or
he has not cared sufficiently about the pockets and
feelings of those who live on saltflsh. Or he has
made a mistake. Or he ought to have done some-
thing nasty to the people of Newfoundland from
whom the bulk of our salted codfish comes. Gradu-
ally the complaint centres on the fish people of New-
foundland or wherever it is that fish is imported
from into Jamaica. For the average consumer is
not a fool. He knows quite well that rising prices
are the result of something happening abroad, though
he is not at all satisfied that that thing need hap-
pen. He knows that it is not the local Food Con-
troller. the Jamaica King of Codfish, who is respon-
sible for sending up fish by a halfpenny a pound.
though at first blush it relieves his feelings to blame
the man on the spot. So in a little while the con-
sumer accepts the situation, since nothing can be
done about it; and so from the beginning we have
found the people of Jamaica wonderfully patient
and understanding about conditions over which no
one in this country has any control. Many of them
remember the last war. These know that the price
situation then was very much worse than it is to-


day. But they are not satisfied that sufficient atten-
ti(n is paid to the price of locally produced foods,
and of this we may hear more at any time.

WHAT they do not know generally is that the
department which fixes the prices of imported
articles purchased by the public keeps a tab on those
prices; that is to say, it is constantly sending out
men to see that the public is not being charged more
than it should pay. These men find that. on the
whole, the public is being treated fairly; that Is
what one of them has assured me, at any rate, and
that person is as truthful as we can expect him
to be. These investigators of food prices drop in
at a shop. let us say, and watch the trade as it pases
over the counter. They note that so much is charged
for a pound of rice, so much for a pound of flour.
so much for half-a-pound of mackerel, so much for a
tin of sardines. You may say that these men are
known and that therefore the shopkeeper will be
particular to be honest when they are about. But
there is another test. Many people deal with these
shopkeepers paying them every month or every
week, when it is impossible to escape paying-which.
with some, must be a real grievance. They have
books in which their purchases are set down, but

newspaper office as a very junior reporter at sixteen
years of age and having developed into a gather-
er and writer of news at so much per column by
the time he had arrived at thirty. There he had
paused. There he had more than paused; for fur-
ther progress he had not made. His friend had
marched forward; he had been content to stand still
and watch the passing show, earning four pounds
a week, quiet, frugal, and satisfied. He was no one's
fool, but he lacked self-assertion. He was constitu-
tionally timid, and nothing had hitherto occurred
in his life to develop his Intfiative, or any strength
of character he may have possessed. He took life
as it came and was faithful to his friends, he asked
for little but usually received what he wanted. Vin-
cent was convinced that Stanley possessed a mighty
intellect, and Mr. Stanley was convinced that Vincent
was a man of keen penetration and understanding,
one worthy of the friendship of a thinker whose
thoughts, were they only transcribed on paper, might
accomplish something extraordinary Mr. Stanley
himself never quite knew what. Myrtle, however, did
not share her father's admiration of Mr. Stanley's un-
expressed abilities; and though she knew that her
mother liked Mr. Stanley. she sometimes wondered
what the couple could possibly see in the man.
But Jane liked him for many reasons, one of
which was that though he knew all about her hum-
ble origin he never once alluded to it. It was Mr.
Stanley too who, many years ago, had not untact-
fully undertaken to improve Jane's manner of speak-
ing, and had succeeded. Time was when Mrs. Brog
lie had spoken like any ordinary Jamaica peasant
girl. saying "de" Instead of "the", and "dat" Instead
of "that." She rarely did so now. Stanley not only
spoke good if occasionally pompous English him-
self, but as a young man, by mild raillery as well as
by example, had corrected Jane's pronunciation and
had also encouraged her to read. And she, being in-
telligent and receptive, had benefited somewhat by
his exertions and example.
He had noticed how, at home, and when excited
particularly. Myrtle would lapse into the colloquial
way of speaking, the free and easy ungrammatical
Jamaca style, but never had he once ventured to
correct her since she had been fifteen years of age.
On one memorable occasion, when she was fifteen.
he had gently but magisterially suggested to her
that she should say "those girls"; and not "them
girls." "For," h had been proceeding, "a careless
habit of speech acquired in youth might lead to
-" he did not get any further. The young lady
hud sharply requested him to "mind his own damn
business and not to interfere with hers." She had
followed this up with scathing references to his pre-
senting himself so often at her father's table.
and with some insulting remarks about the shabbi-
ness of his attire. Her parents were not present
when this passage-at-arms took place, and Mr. Stan-
ley had not reported the girl to either Vincent or
Jane. The tale of her rudeness would have pained
them. he knew; he also guessed for he was not
without shrewdness that they would have felt
that he ought not to have interfered with a girl
who was then a promising pupil at the best second-
ary girls' school in Kingston. He was, in fact. cer-
tain that no good could come of his making too
much of this incident: therefore he decided to make
nothing of'it. He felt that Myrtle should be grate-
ful for this forbearance on his part. As a matter
of fact it left her indifferent.


the shopkeeper must keep books also. An Investiga-
tor can and does demand to see these books, and
he knows what prices should have been asked a
month ago, a week ago, today The figures in the
book afford him the required information; it too
much has been charged for any article he reports
to head office and action may be taken. The whole-
salers also are checked; the checking system is com-
prehensive. Now and then there is a lawsuit. But
when one considers the number of wholesale and re-
tail dealers there are, it is astonishing how few the
prosecutions and the lawsuits have hitherto been.

AS long as the war endures we shall have a con-
trol system in Jamaica, and that system it is
with which I deal here. It has its inconveniences.
Everything has. But it was designed to protect the
consumer, and. taking it by and large, it has done
so up to the present. It hasn't ruined the wholesaler
and retailer. As to its complete success, that cannot
be expected: there is never complete success as a
rule. What the individual wants to feel now is that
he Is being protected, what the salesman wants to
know is that his business, his source of livelihood.
has not been wantonly and unnecessarily destroyed.
I hope he will never feel that this has been done,

He knew now that she could speak quite cor-
rectly when she chose, but that when she did so at
home that was usually evidence of a discipline to be
applied to all and sundry, especially to himself and
to Miss Emma. It was positively a delight to his
ears, therefore, when she was careless in her speech.
Today. in the first few moments of their meeting, he
had observed that she was careful and correct. The
omen was not propitious.
"What's upset Myrtle, Vin?" he asked his crony,
when safe within the walls of the bedroom. He
took care, however, to lower his voice.
"Don't know, me dear sir. She went to church
today, and since she come back she been going on
as if a wasp bite her. Wouldn't even let me go to
church with her."
"Ah. And which church did she attend?"
"Parish Church."
"I am myself a member of the Anglican Com-
munion," said Mr. Stanley. "but am not as frequent
in my attendance at public worship as I might be.
What took Myrtle to the Parish Church?"
"That's more than I can say. Curiosity, I sup-
"This is the first time that she has been?
"No. she went last Sunday. but I didn't mention
It to you."
"Then," said Mr. Stanley deliberately, prior to
immersing his face in the basin of cold water be-
fore him, "there must be a young man in t."
He made curious noises in the water with his
mouth, as if he were preventing it from forcing a
passage down his throat. He raised his head, his
eyes smarting from the sting of soapsuds that had
penetrated into them. and groped blindly for a
towel. When his face was dried he resumed his
comments, ignoring the water he had splashed upon
his shirt.
"It must be a young man. Which is right and
proper and to be expected at her time of life. Al-
though a bachelor, I feel towards Myrtle as a father,
"But that is no reason why she should want us
to wear our jacket at dinner on such a bloody hot
day," complained Mr. Broglle irritably. "She may
be falling in love, though she don't mention t yet
to me or her mother; but if the young man isn't
coming here today, why must we be put to all this
"He may be coming, for all you know to the
contraryy" said Mr. Stanley sagaciously. "Perhaps
she thinks he may just drop in, unexpected-like, and
she wants us to look our best in his eyes. I can un-
derstand that. He glanced at the large mirror of
the dressing table to his left to see if just then he
was looking his best. He decided that his hair re-
quired a special brushing. He brushed it again.
"You may be right." returned Vin. "but I
don't see the necessity for all this mystery. Still, I
suppose it is what one must expect from young girls
"Myrtle was right when she said we should not
dine without Jackets." returned Mr. Stanley empha-
tically. "I see that now. She wants us to look like
Mr. Brogle had strong objections to looking like
a gentleman. He wasn't one, and he felt that the


(Continued from Page 6)


effort to live and look like one would break him
down. However, that be should rise to a high
standard of gentlemanly appearance and behaviour
on a Sunday, occasionally, he knew in his heart to
be no unreasonable demand, and he perceived that
his friend now seemed to like the suggestion that
he should appear at his best. Paul had always been
vain. Well, he supposed, that was to be expected of
a man with so mighty a brain.
They went out to lunch.
Mrs. Broglie sat at the head of the dining table,
with Mr. Stanley and her husband to her right, Miss
Emma and Myrtle to her left. There was a feeling
of constraint experienced. There always was when
jackets and collars had to be worn at meals. There
was, in a way, no company present, for Mr.
Stanley and Miss Emma could never count as con-
ventional company. Yet the right table manners
had to be exhibited: so to speak, these went auto-
matically with a Jacket and a collar. Miss Emma
felt that she would not dare to forget to wipe her
mouth at least a minimum number of times with
the table-napkin with which she was supplied. Nor
must she speak of it as a table-napkin merely. It
was a serviette: with Myrtle in her present frame
of mind it could not be less. And she dreaded lest
Mr. Stanley should make any noises when eating
his soup, as unhappily, he sometimes did.
It was a thick soup made of splitpease, and was
followed by a large chicken. Susan the housemaid.
who on Sundays officiated as butleress when re-
quired to do so she was rarely required to do so -
handed round the vegetables while Jane helped
the chicken, and gave alarming hints at upsetting
them on the clothes of the diners. Mr. Stanley
trenhbltd for his suit, he had not been wearing it
for more than five years, and so looked upon it
ais comparatively new. Myrtle now and then fixed
Susan with a glittering eye, but that only served
further to confuse a lady whose forte was more the
cleaning of floors than the waiting at table. How-
ever. nothing calamitous occurred as the dinner
pro ceded, and when Mr. Stanley was sipping his
second glass of rum-and-water he felt Impelled to
add to the world's wisdom by a few well-chosen re-
marks. There had been an uncomfortable silence
hitherto. He now looked Myrtle full in the face
and observed:
"We seem to be on the eve of war,"
"What have I been saying or doing for you to
say that to me, Mr. Stanley?" enquired Myrtle sharp-
ly. She was certain that the old man had meant
to be personal by this remark about war.
He hastily put her right. "I am referring to
the European situation, my dear, not to you. Why,
how could I possibly mean you?"
"Beg pardon."
"Don't mention it. I expect an outbreak any
moment now. If that is the liver, Jane, I think
I will try it but the gizzard will do as well,"
amended Mr.I Stanley. not quite certain if the chic-
ken liver were available. "*Yes, we shall have a
war, unless I read the signs of the times wrongly.
Yes, thanks a little gravy." He beckoned to Susan
to pass him some more rice-and-pease. Mr. Stanley
always admitted to being partial to rice-and-pease.
To give him his due, he was partial to most edibles.
His partiality was a striking feature of an amiable
disposition that rejoiced in all the good things of
"Well. what is to happen will happen, what is
to come will transpire," said Vincent, anxious to
show that he too was acquainted with world con-
ditions. "We expect anything now."
"I expect a friend to call for me tonight to take
me to a moving-picture show," interpolated Myrtle
suddenly, thinking this as good a time as any to
make an announcement that had been on the tip
of her tongue for some time.
IMr. Stanley smiled triumphantly, glancing with
satisfaction at Vincent. He felt that he had guessed
rightly from the beginning, was perhaps the only
person who had discovered the true reason for
Myrtle's peculiar attitude that day. Here was an-
other proof of his possession of a brilliant mitd.
"May we enquire the name?" he asked jocosely.
SIt was none of his business, Myrtle felt, yet as
she would have to give the name of the expected vis-
itor sometime, it was just as well to give it now. "Mr
Scrofield," she answered distinctly. "Mr. Henry Scro-
field. The one that owns the Scrofleld Garage."
"But he's not a young man," blurted out Mr.
.Stanley, surprised into this indiscretion.
"And why should he be a young man, Mr.
Stanley?" questioned Myrtle icily. "Is a young girl
to have only male friends that are little boys?
Thank you for your interest in my affairs. but real-
ly "
"Myrtle!" cried her mother, fearful lest she
should be rude to Mr. Stanley, at whom she was now
staring with concentrated dislike.
"What am I doing. ma'am?"
"Nothing." cried Mr. Stanley quickly. "Of
course, of course." He stopped a moment, then add-
ed: "Of course not."
"Why did you expect the person coming for me
tonight to be a young man?" insisted Myrtle.

"I didn't," said Mr. Stanley hastily: "I didn't
expect anybody at all. Merely remarked that your
expected visitor was not what we would call a
young man; but neither, for the matter of that. is
he an old man. I know him slightly, he is a fine
fellow. A very fine fellow indeed. He is much
thought of in influential circles. I am so glad that
you know him."
"And his daughters are nice young ladies," put
in Miss Emma. "they are society girls."
"Society girls!" sneered Myrtle. "Just what is
that? Everybody can be a 'society girl' if they have
money in these days. Even I, though I am not fair
like Miss Julia or Miss Evelyn Scrofield."
It came to Mr. Stanley that Myrtle either did
not know or did not like the Scrofleld girls, so he
decided to lead the conversation away from them.
But Mr. Brogle was interested in this new acquain-
tanceship that Myrtle had established, so he en-
quired in all innocence:
"What are the girls like, Myrtle?"
"I don't know, papa; I don't know them. I
have only seen them."
"Then you only know the father?" said Mrs.
Broglie quietly. "He don't introduce his daughters
to you?"
"He couldn't very well do that. since we haven't
met yet." replied Myrtle. who perceived quite
plainly that a battery of questions was about to be
turned upon her. She decided to silence that bat-
tery at once.
"I met Mr. Scrotleld only the other day. he came
into the place where I work He came on business,
and I had to type out an agreement for him. We
got to talking, and he was very nice and polite. He
admired the way I did my work, and it came to my
mind that. as he employed people it would do me
good to know him, for you can never know when
I might get a better situation in his office than the
one I have."
While she spoke Mr. Stanley had been sipping
his rum-and-water. It may be that this drink in-
spired him to conversational effort of an Interroga-
tory character, although but a couple of minutes
before he had decided to be silent on the subject of
Mr. Scrotleld's daughters. Smiling benignantly at
Myrtle, he asked her:
"Did he tell you he attended Parish Church.
and invite you there?" and then. having put that
question, he drained his glass and passed it casual-
ly to Mr. Broglie to be replenished. He did not see
how Myrtle could object to such a natural and friend-
ly query.
.Myrtle answered quietly: "He didn't ask me to
come to Parish Church, for that would have been
too familiar. I met him on a Saturday; he said he
was going to Parish Church the next day. Perhaps
that did put the idea of going to the same church
into my head, so I went. I went again today, and
I met him outside and he asked me if he could call
for me and take me to the Palace picture show. I
told him yes, if my father and mother had no ob-
Jection. and that is all."
Mr. Stanley, having while she spoke been
helped to another drink, which he had this time not
sipped but quickly drunk recognizing the pos-
sibility of further similar libations during a dis-
cussion so Interesting and intimate now expe-
rienced an access of boldness and courage which, in
a perfectly normal condition, he never knew. He
put down his glass qultkly. pushing it in Vincent's
direction with a determined air and at once
proceeded to comment upon Myrtle's last remark,
though it was clearly intended for her parents.
"Objection ?" he asked, rather more loudly than
was his habit; "objection? Why should your parents
have any objection. my dear? These are the days
of feminine freedom: and you are not only old
enough to look after yourself, but are educated and
eminently intelligent to boot. I think it is very
nice of you to tell us, without holding anything
back. your immediate relations with a gentleman of
standing in the community who must have been
pleased to make your acquaintance. That argues
candour and establishes our firm faith in your es-
sential good sense."
Mr. Stanley gazed upon Myrtle with eyes moist
with Jamaica rum and affection. He was tremend-
ously moved. Three drinks had filled his soul with
loving-kindness towards all men. Secretly doubt-
ful as to the Scrofleld acquaintanceship with Myrtle,
when he had not quite finished his second drink.
he was now convinced that, somehow, it repre-
sented a definite advancement for his friend's daugh-
ter, and in such a prospect he took a genuine de-
light He reached out and seized the bottle of
liquor that lay not far from his hand. Vincent hav-
ing somehow failed to attend to his glass. He
poured out for himself another generous drink. He
added ice-water, and drank, and the world became
further transformed in his eyes. Mr. Scrofleld as-
sumed the mien of an archangel, with all the qual-
ities that went with that status. Only a lingering
of his customary prudence kept Mr. Stanley from
warmly congratulating Myrtle on something or
other connected with the Scrofleld incident. It was

Just as well, as he could not for anything have
specified what he was congratulating her about.
His endorsement of Mr. Scrofield, however, had
a pleasing effect upon Myrtle. She had not ex-
pected so much discretion and sene from Mr. Stan-
ley; hence she smiled at him in a most friendly
fashion, and asked him brightly if he would not
have some potato-pudding for dessert. He would.
He gave his assent with a nod which he imagined
would not have ill become Olympian Jove decreeing
the creation of a world. He benignly anticipated a
larger helping than he would ordinarily have had
from Myrtle, and he was not disappointed.
Mr. Stanley's view of the Myrtle-Scrofield situa-
tion had an instant effect upon Mr. Broglie also. That
gentleman was secretly conscious that if Myrtle
were determined to make a friend of Mr. Scrofleld,
he really could do nothing to prevent her; but the
apparent enthusiasm of his friend for Mr. Scrofield
made any protest on his part out of the question;
besides, was not everything in the open and above
board? Jane was silent: she would wait until the
Misses Scrofield acknowledged the existence of
Myrtle before becoming content; meanwhile she too
was influenced by Mr. Stanley's words. For she
shared, to some extent, her husband's opinion of
that gentleman's Intellectual faculties and good
judgment, even though she sometimes wondered why
so wonderful a man had all his life been satisfied
with so moderate a position In the world.
The only person at the table who did not feel
that all immediate problems had been solved was
Miss Emma. Yet she would have said much that Mr.
Stanley had but that he had spoken before her: which
gave her some annoyance. A slight jealousy existed
between the two. Miss Emma felt that she should
always be first in the affections of Jane and Vin-
cent, Mr. Stanley was firmly persuaded that such a
status was his by inalienable right. So though
both were friends, both also, to a degree, were rivals.
But Miss Emma knew better than to interpolate-
Just then some remark that would have spoilt the
effect of Mr. Stanley's reassurance, especially as
this might have brought Myrtle's anger down upon
her head. She contented herself with pursing up
her lips and looking dubious. Only Mrs. Broglie
perceived that look.
Myrtle resumed the conversation.
"I would like." she said smilingly, "Mr. Scrofleld
to meet only my family when first he come to see us;
then he can meet our friends afterwards. Don't you
think that would be nice?"
She addressed herself to Mr. Stanley, convinced
now that he was disposed to agree with every sug-
gestion of hers.
"Quite proper, of course, of course," that gentle-
man instantly answered. "I was going to suggest
that myself. I know him already, and you?" he
addressed Miss Emma.
"Yes. I 'ave met him," said that lady. her tone
just slightly suggesting that she was not as satis-
fied with Mr. Scrofield as she would like to be.
"Very well. Now when he comes tonight we
can remain in the distance, while Vin and Jane go
forward to greet the visitor. It he met us all at the
same time," Mr. Stanley went on, "he might think
that he ought to stay rather than break up a party,
and that would be inconvenient for anyone who
wants to be in time for a show. You agree with me,
Miss Emma?"
"Well. we needn't be here at all," suggested
Miss Emma; "we can leave early this evening."
There was spite in this suggestion. Mr. Stanley
understood at once that to follow such a course as
Miss Emma had mapped out might deprive him of
supper and a couple of those drinks to which he
looked so complacently forward. The design was
evil, the danger imminent; the threatening crisis
must be averted at all costs.
"No," he said definitely, "that is not what would
please Myrtle. We need not disorganise ourselves
in the manner you suggest. I at any rate," he con-
tinued firmly, "will remain. I will support Vin and
"I don't see no reason why either of you should
leave early," said Jane. "or even why Mr. Scrofleld
shouldn't meet you."
"I am only his daughters' dressmaker a sort
of a spare dressmaker" said Miss Emma. "an' it
wouldn't do for him to meet me the first time he
comes here. He is a gentleman an' wouldn't like it.
But I can stay in your room, Jane, till he go."
Myrtle said nothing. The matter was decided.
She certainly did not wish Mr. Scrofleld to meet
Miss Emma and Mr. Stanley as friends in her house;
these folk were all right enough in their way, but
socially Mr. Scrofleld occupied a much higher
plane of existence. Even about her mother and
father she felt dubious; but they could not be elim-
inated tonight except -.
And that night, at least, they were eliminated.
For when Mr. Scrofield called for her he remained in
his car and tooted his horn as a signal that he had
arrived. He made no effort to come in. Myrtle
went out to meet him, and a minute after she was
speeding with him towards the picture theatre. "He



ought to have come in, if even for a minute," said
Mr. Broglie. hurt at this procedure.
AI suppose he think he is too good to meet you
an' me." added his wife. "I am not surprised."
"He was in a hurry; that's what it is," com-
mented Mr. Stanley. "Tempus fugit. you know."
"'Well. even if he have that, he might have
shown some politeness," said Miss Emma. thinking
that tempus fugit might be some peculiar ailment.
Now that Myrtle had gone. she felt free to ex-
press her opinion, within limits, on the strange be-
haviour of Mr Scrofleld.


R SCROPIELD stood outside a large store in
King Street, with his face turned southwards
as though he were expecting at any moment to see
someone for whom he was waiting. Clad in a well-
cut suit -f palm-beach, he wore a light straw hat,
white leatherand-canvas shoes, and a sports shirt,
the ensemble constituting as appropriate an outfit
for coolness and comfort as one might find in a
warm tropical city like Kingston.
In complexion he was very light coloured; that is
to say. he looked almost white. His hair, inclined to
be scanty. was sandy in colour, his eyes a pale blue
and perhaps a little too closely set together His
other features were not remarkable, but his whole
face. when examined closely, gave the impression of
an acquisitive character, which impression was fur-
ther strengthened by the long fingers of Mr. Scro-
field's hands, fingers which might have been des-
cribed as grasping, as digits which would reach
after money, property, anything desirable, and, hav-
ing onte clutched it, could cling to it and keep it.
A student of physiognomy would have had no
heritalnan about saying that Mr. Scrofleld regarded
i.he love of money as the root of all good.
le was forty-eight years of age; by the time he
was forty he had made quite a respectable amount of
money To this he had since added. He understood
the art f aiLcumulating wealth.
Nw and then someone went by him whom he
knew. There would be a nod of recognition or a
wr-d of greeting. but if any acquaintance showed
an in Iinalloion to pause for a brief conversation Mr.
Serotleld iould deliiiitely discourage the impulse.
One man. however, was not to be so put off. He
knew Mr Scrofleld well; had passed him five
minutes before on his way to the store. On emerg-
ing from this establishment and finding Mr. Scrolleld
still looking southwards with a somewhat intent ex-
pre.slion. thiu. man, whose name was Ballom, and
who %as noted for his interest in other people's af-
fairs. siiopprd Iand observed:
"What a time you been out here, Scrofield!
Who you waiting for?"
'No one in particular," said Mr. Scrofleld; then,
aware that such an answer would not satisfy the
inquislitie Iallam, he added: "Well, I expect some-
body to meet me here, but it don't seem as if they
are coming again."
-"Thll'rs t h way with all women," heel fully re-
markedl Mr Ilallam; "they don't care how long they
keep a man. especially if they think he is in love
with them."
"I didn't say I was waiting for any woman," re-
plied Mr. Scrofteld sharply. "I said that I was wait-
ing for somebody."
Ballanm laughed and placed a friendly hand upon
his shoulder
Exactly And who can that somebody be, at
this time of the day? Half-past one o'clock? Who
but that girl you're going about with? And why
not, me friend' You are a widower, you have money,
and now you pick up a good-looking child to interest
you I only wish I was like you. But if my wife
ever heard that I was waiting outside a lunch-room
for i girl hell <;eo-rge'"
"I suppose. Mr. Ballam. that it is my business If
I choose to wait anywhere for anybody?" Interjected
Mr. Scrofleld angrily.
"Right you are, sir, right you are. So long as
you treat your little child well, it is up to her and
you alone where you meet her. I am just offering
congratulations. I wish I had a girl like her, that's
all Well. so long. Hope she won't keep you much
longer "
Mr Ballam laughed and went his way, leaving
Mr. Scrofield angry, disturbed, and indignant at Mr.
Ballam's impertinence. How prone, he reflected bit-
terly. were people to put the worst possible con-
struction on perfectly respectable happenings. What
harm could there be in his occasionally taking about
a girl who might, so far as age went, be easily his
daughter' What common minds most persons had!
All this sort of chatter, which he had vainly
hoped would pass him and Myrtle by, was disquiet-
ing. it tended to pin a bad name on the girl. That
surely was not fair to her; but how could it be pre-
vented' He sorrowfully decided that it could not
be prevented People would see them together, and
such. he reflected, was the depravity of human na-
tare. people would talk. That he himself might put
an end to the talk by dropping Myrtle did not seem

to him at all a practical proposition. It barely
crossed his mind.
But besides a few of his friends, and particular-
ly Mr. Ballam. there was someone else who had
noticed Mr. Scrofield's watch and ward.
This observant person was Mr. Stanley, who. stroll
Ing along on the sidewalk opposite had by chance
glimpsed the figure and face of the gentleman whom,
not so long ago, in a burst of enthusiasm engender.
ed by some fear of Myrtle and much rum-and-water,
he had described as an ornament to Jamaica society.
Since then Mr. Stanley had not met Mr. Scrofleld;
but he knew that Myrtle now and then went out
with him, and that her parents were uneasily won-
dering what were the gentleman' intentions.
Mr. Scrofeld had not yet passed the threshold of
the iroglise." door. When he came to take Myrtle
out. he still remained in his car and tooted its horn
as a signal for her to come forth. Mr. Stanley shook
his head gravely whene-er he remembered this. It
was unseemly. It was most improper. It was not
complimentary to Myrtle It was insulting to Vin-
cent and to Jane. In a sort of way, it was a slur
upon himself (Mr. Stanley), for surely .Myrtle must
have told Mr. Scrofeld that he was the oldest, the
closest, and the truest friend that her father ever
had; that he had been best man at her parents'
wedding so many years ago, and had assisted in mak-
ing that function a success. Yet, knowing this, Mr.
Scrofleld had kept himself aloof. It was bitter.
Mr. Stanley. going south, had walked to the end
of the block after perceiving Mr. Scrofleld on the
opposite sidewalk. There he paused. stood
still for a few minutes, then reversed his steps.
He was interested in the unexpected presence of Mr.
Scrofield. He was filled with a keen curiosity to see
whether that gentleman was still standing where he
had left him a little while ago.
It flashed upon his mind that Mr. Srronfeld might
be waiting for Myrtle who, as Mr. Stanley knew.
left her work at about one o'clock for the
Saturday s half hi-liday.
A stroll in King Street always fascinated and
delighted Mr. Stanley. On Suturdays it was the most
crowded thoroughfare in all Jamaica. Here, one
after the other, rose the big shops or stores of the
metropolis, and Mr. Stanley never wearied of con-
trasting them with the shops and stores of the King-
ston he had known in his youth They were abso-
lutely different in form of architecture and in equip-
ment from those of forty years before. The small
shuttered windows and narrow doors of the past
had given place to spacious entrances and to wide
show-windows in which a bright variety of com-
modities was displayed; the floors of these shops
were tiled or were of polished wood, the sidewalks
in front of them were often tiled also in variegated
patterns and were smooth for walking; colonnades
and arcades fronted all these places.
Often would Mr. Stanley. Miss Emm1a. Jane and
Vincent discuss, when they were together. the
change that had arrived in Kingston. The tram-
cars of their youth still clanged and roared up and
down the streets, but great omnibuses ran every-
where also, and motor cars by the hundreds were
always to be seen. Some of these were drawn up on
either side of King Street at this moment, while to
and fro scores of others moved at a swift and even
reckless pace towards their destinations.
The sidewalks were thronged with men and
women intent upon their business; dozens of ven-
dors, black girls and little boys mainly, offered to
the passer-by a number of articles for sale. All of
these merchants in little were noisy and seemed
carefree. IMany were ragged; some, it must be ad-
mitted. were distinctly malodorous.
There were others. Yuung ladies with com-
plexions varying from purest white to sable, well-
dressed, at ease, thinking their own thoughts or con-
versing gaily with one another, passed along or
rushed for the tramcars; these mingled with the
ragged urchins or the slatternly vendors without
seeming to notice the incongruous environment.
The mixture of clothes as of hues was striking, but
the behaviour of every one was good. Mr. Stanley
sometimes commented on this In some of his contri-
butions to the Press.
Mr. Stanley quickly crossed over the street,
miraculously dodging the swift motor cars, and
hurriedly placed himself where he believed he could
watch Mr. Scrofield without being seen. This was
easy, as Mr. Scrofield's back was turned to him.
But when he perceived Myrtle approaching from the
south, which he almost immediately did. he became
aware that he might be too conspicuous by far.
Mr. Stanley. however, had not read detective
stories In vain. He had a newspaper in his hand. He
now held it up. pretending to read, while he

All the photographs illustrating articles ap-
pearing in the preceding pages were taken
by Me Cleary & Elllott photographers
of Kingston.

peered through a hastily prepared hole in its cen-
tre at the approaching girl and the man that he
watched. So intent was he at this occupation that
he did not observe the stout woman with her
arms laden who was coming towards him from the
opposite direction. The woman expected that the
man with the paper would make way for her: after
all. she represented. In her own mind, irresistible
force. But he gave not an inch; not because of per-
versity. but because of preoccupation; the conse-
quence was that in a moment he found himself lying
on his back with a multitude of feet passing swiftly
to the right and left of him, some apparently
threatening to trample on his face. Mr. Stanley,
dazed and shaken, slowly rose from his recumbent
posture and proceeded to walk away. He was aware
of a swiftly gathering crowd and he wished to
escape it. He was not mollified on hearing it sug-
gested by several persons that he had of malice
aforethought bounced into a poor inoffensive woman,
or, alternatively, that he was drunk. He would take
no notice of the common herd, however. That might
have unpleasant results.
Meantime Myrtle and Mr. Scrofteld had disap-
(Continued on Page 19)



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(Continued from Page 17)
The thing to do now, obviously, was to follow
them. To you who read these lines such a course
might appear simple. But to Mr. Stanley it seemed
to demand the exercise of considerable finesse and
tact. Hence, at the very threshold of the building
which the couple had entered, he hesitated, then
came to a full stop. In a moment he had turned
away, feeling suddenly that he was not acting quite
like a gentleman, although inspired by the noblest
of motives. He would not be thought of as spying
upon any one, even though he actually was.
The truth is that Mr. Stanley's nerve had failed
him. He was sure he would be seen by Myrtle and
her cavalier if he entered the lunch-room into which
he surmised they had gone, and though it was high-
ly probable that neither would have taken the
slightest notice of him, Myrtle might have suspect-
ed that he was spying upon her and have question-
ed him about this afterwards. The thought of that
made him shudder. It did not occur to him that he
need only have said that he sometimes took lunch
in that place. A guilty conscience inhibited his reas-
oning faculties.
But he was much too intrigued by this episode
to dismiss it forthwith from his mind. It had to
be discussed with someone. Naturally, Miss Emma
was clearly indicated.
She lived in Orange Street; a tramcar conveyed
him thither within ten minutes. Soon he was as-
cending the stairway that led up to Miss Emma's
apartment in the house in which she lived. At the
sound of his voice Miss Emma opened her bedroom
door and enthusiastically welcomed him. Would he
sit in the front verandah, she suggested, with her
mouth full of pins. As soon as she had finished
trying a dress on the lady who was now in the
room she would be with him. He went into the
verandah and deposited himself carefully in a rock-
ing-chair of ancient appearance and uncertain sta-
bility. He had begun to be aware that his sud-
den fall on the King Street sidewalk had inflicted
sundry bruises on his body. He felt that he needed
"Well. Mr. Stanley, it's months now since you
been here last," cried Emma, as, having completed
her work for the moment, she came outside to join
her visitor. "What good breeze blow you here to-
day? An' what's the matter with your clothes?



Don't you know they have dust all over them?"
"I fell down," said Mr. Stanley simply.
"Fell down? But how?"
"A woman knocked me down."
"A woman knocked you down?" cried Miss Em-
ma, scandalised. "Then what did you do?"
"I got up."
*'Yes, I know you must have got up; but did
you put the woman in charge?"
"No, she said it was I who nearly knocked her
Miss Emma eyed Mr. Stanley with more than a
hint of irritation and impatience. His dark tweed
suit bore ample evidence of its recent encounter with
a dirty pavement, his face wore a look of patient
fortitude mingled with martyrdom. But all that he
could apparently say was that he had been knocked
down by someone who claimed that he had nearly
knocked her down, and that he then had risen from
the ground. Miss Emma took a straight-backed
chair which faced his. Perhaps he would be a little
more explicit if he were left to tell his story his
own way.
"I am not at ease in my mind about Myrtle. Miss
Emma." he observed heavily; "Myrtle ti on my
"It was she who knock you down?" ejaculated
Miss Emma in tones of great surprise. There was
no knowing what girls might not do in these days.
"Certainly not; Myrtle is a young lady. She
wouldn't hit a man, or bounce him, in the open
street. That sort of thing is only done by ladies in
private. But she nearly saw me when I went
"She was there, then?"
"In the almost Immediate vicinity. But she no-
ticed nothing. Mr. Scrofleld was waiting for her,
and she was coming along to meet him. They went
to lunch together: at least I- believe they went
to lunch. I did not setually see them eating."
"You mean you were looking so hard at them
that you didit-see-that a weman was goink to push
you down?" asked Miss Emma. now beginning to
comprehend what it was that Mr. Stanley would be
telling her.
"That's it. Scrofleld was standing on the side-
walk waiting for Myrtle. Myrtle was coming to-
wards him. I was standing up watching both from
behind a newspaper as you know, I am interested
in Myrtle Suddenly I find myself on my back, with
everybody trying to trample on my face. Then I
get up and come to see you. We are both old friends


JA., E.W.I.

of Vin and Jane, and I don't like how Myrtle is go-
ing about with this man. We should try to help
"Yes," agreed Miss Emma at once, and settled
herself semi-comfortably for a heart-to-heart talk
with Mr. Stanley. The opportunity of discussing
the affairs of another, even if that other were much
loved by her, pleased Miss Emma greatly. Besides,
she had some news to give, and she was not quite
certain that it could be imparted to Vincent or to
Jane by her.
"You think they arranged this assassination be-
tween them, Mr. Stanley?" she whispered confiden-
"It was clearly an assignation." agreed Mr.
Stanley, "but there was nothing secret about it. Yet
it is sometime now that Scrofleld has been meeting
Myrtle. and what can come of it? What are her
parents going to do about it? I think you should
ask them."
"Me?" cried the lady; "they are very kind to
me, but how could I say one word to them about
their own daughter unless they bring up the subject?
You know what it is with family, Mr. Stanley. Evea
the best of friends must be careful what they say
or do about them. Still, as it is you that see Myrtle
today, why not mention it, chance-like, to Vincent?
That couldn't do no harm."
"But if he told Jane, and Jane told Myrtle!" The
very possibility of this filled Mr. Stanley with con-
"Warn Vin that he is not to say a word about
you to Myrtle: Jane will never do it. Tell VIn what
Mr. Scrofleld daughters are saying about Myrtle. He
ought to know."
"But I don't know what they are saying," Mr.
Stanley pointed out; "I don't know them at all." He
bent forward eagerly. "Have you heard anything?"
"Yes," replied Miss Emma, wriggling her thin
figure with importance. "I work sometimes for them.
and perhaps they know that I know Myrtle and her
people, though I never tell them. I was at their
house only yesterday fitting Miss Julia with a dress,
and she and her sister was talking about their fa
their. I could see that they were talking for my
"And what did they say?" demanded Mr. Stanley
who was never averse to hearing a bit of gossip and
would not treat even scandal with scorn.
"Miss Julia said her father seemed to love low
company, but that as long as he didn't bring them
to the house he could do as he like for all she care."




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"Low company?"
"Yes. Then Miss Evelyn say she heard he was
taking about a dark girl called Myrtle IHro.lie and
they both laugh. I didn't like their laugh."
"Of course, of course." exclaimed Mr. Stanley.
"How could you? Low company! I wish I had
been there!"
"What would you have done, Mr. Stlantlley'
Mr. Stanley ignored the question. He furrowed
his brow with thought "And is this what you want
me to tell Vin'"' he asked.
Yes. he should know what Mr. Scrofield daugh-
ters saying about Myrtle. If it wasn't that I work
for thpni. and they help me to make me bread, I
would 'ave told them then and there that Myrtle
is as good as themselves, even if she is not fair like
them and as well off. uit. you see, that would mean
no more work for me from them, an' I can't afford
htal Mr. Stanley Even as it is I can hardly make
my way."
"The problem is no easy one." admitted Mr.
Stanley. "Was that all they said?"
"No. They seem to know a lot about their fa-
ther. even if he think they are so high-up that they
wouldn't know a thingF Evly'ii. the younger sister,
said she wondered if Myrtle knew that their father
was going about with Lottle .MoyniI. Lottie is a
friend of Myrtle, you know."
"I see!" exclaimed Mr. Staile.y. "There are com-
"You may well call it that, me dear sir. And
Myrtle don't guess a thing about It. What you going
to do?"
This putting upon him the rruile.uiln llity for
doing somclelhing in regard to the Mlrtile-Srofltld
situation seemed to Mr. Stanley to be very unjust.
What could he do? More important still, what dare
he do? Already he had suffered a physical downfall
in King Street as a result of his devotion to Myrtle;
now he was expected to approach her father with a
tale that must anger any father. He knew well that
the bearer of evil tidings too often is blamed for
those ldiings. whatever his intent. He was also
aware that, old friend of Vin's though he was. Vin's
daughter stood immeasurably before him in her fa-
ther's affection. And, somehow, in spite of Miss Em-
ma's assurances, he felt that it would sooner or later
leak out that it was he who had warned Vincent.
And .Myrtle would probably still insist upon going
her own way, while she, Scrofleld. Vin and Jane
might unite in thinking of him as an interfering crea-
ture of evil thoughts. He would be lucky, indeed, if
Myrtle confined herself only to thinking badly of
him. He could perceive no reason to believe that
she would be so reticent. She might even insist up-
on his being exiled from the intimacy of the lHrogKl.
home. A lifelong friendship might thus be summar-
ily ended.
"This is a woman's job," he replied after a little
while, gazing solemnly at Miss Emma. "It is a mat-
ter which one woman must take up with another.
A man cannot tackle It. He would be out of place.
Besides. I should have to tell Vincent that I heard
from you what the Scrofleld girls are saying."
"You mean you are afraid, Mr. Stanle- "'
"I fear nothing. Miss Emmia. and you know It!
But there is such a thing as perceiving what is ex-

pedient and what is not. It would not be expedient
for me to broach this matter, even to my old friend
"Well. since you are afraid," continued Miss Em-
ma stubbornly, "I suppose I must try and find a
chance to say something to poor Jane. Everything
is left to unfortunate women."
"Believe me, they are a tower of strength," Mr.
Stanley soothingly assured her, a curious lightening
of the spirit beginning to possess him. He now saw
himself absolved from the neLessaty of taking any
initiative as to informing the elder Broglies of the
perilous path which Myrtle was pursuing. But he
would not have Miss Emma believe that fear played
any part in influencing him. He would show her
that a person like himself was not to be trifled with
even by a man in so excellent a financial position as
Mr. Scrofield, or by young ladies in such distin-
guished social circles as the Misses Scrofleld.
"These people," he went on. "are impertinent.
Low company indeed! Why, it was I myself that
spoke well of this fellow Scrofield when his name
came up that Sunday at Vin's. But for my remarks
it is doubtful whether Myrtle would have pi-rsisted
in knowing him. And now his daughters speak of
Myrtle and her parents, and of you and me, as low
company! I will refuse to acknowledge his existence
when next I meet him. Yes. That is what I will do.
He will bow to me, and I will decline to return his
salutation. Low company! What next. I wonder."
"It wasn't Mr. Scrofleld who said that, it was
his daughters," Miss Emma reminded the indignant
't:enleinmn dryly, "an' I don't suppose he will mind
if you don't speak to him. He has money and posi-
"And I have brains," Mr. Stanley reminded her
with dignity. "And I also have eyes, and can watch,
and ears, and can hear. I will keep an eye on Scro-
field, and on his daughters too, and if I see or hear
anything I will tell you." He unbent. "And mark
you, Miss Emma." he murmured solicitously, "you
must tell me anything you hear."
Miss Emma did not answer. She was looking
pensively through an open window into the street
below. This street too had changed with the years
that had passed since her youth. it contained more
shops, was busier, brighter; yet undoubtedly it be
longed to the poorer section of the city, like the
house in which she lived. The house was old. The
verandah in which she now sat was the common
meeting-room of all the tenants in the building; a
few cheap chairs, a couple of tables, constituted its
furniture; not a picture adorned the walls, the paint
upon which had grown dim with age. Her room
was but moderately large; she used it as a work-
room by day, as a place to sleep in by night. Her
rent was a pound a month, and this sum it was not
always easy to procure. She had been much better
off in her youth; a slip had brought her to hard-
ship; yet at no time had she taken life with the in-
consequence she believed she now saw in the con-
duct of so many girls of the younger generation.
They seemed to her to care for nothing, to be afraid
of nothing, to be intent only upon having a good
time; to live only in the present, never to think of
the future. Some "carried on," but these could pre-
vent the usual consequences of that from materialis-


From 9d.






194 -42


ing; they were startlingly wise: They smoked.
Sometimes they drank. And they went about-with
men whom their parents did not know, and some-
times even did not know of. For some years she
had observed these things but she had not connected
Myrtle with them. But Myrtle was now acting much
as did so many others of her age and class. There
was one consolation; if the girl was sensible and
there could be no doubting her realistic common-
sense nothing Myrtle did could ever reduce her
material circumstances; she could never become poor
as she IMiss Emma i had become. That was one
blessing. Yet it was terrible to have to hear her
spoken of as "low company." Miss Emma sighed.
"I don't know what is coming over the girls of
today." she remarked at length
"lt is evolution," commented Mr. Stanley; "it
is the time-spirit."
Miss Emma did not understand. What she was
convinced of at the moment was that Mr. Stanley
would play no very active part in any drama that
might he about to develop It was she and she only
who must report on .Myrtle to Myrtle's mother when
the opportunity seemed propitious. She did not
foresee that in connection with Myrtle's affairs Mr.
Stanley would become far more important than he
"Well." she said aloud, "I am glad I am not a
Mr. Stanley left her presence a minute after with
the feeling that she was a woman entirely lacking
in any true perception of a complicated situation,
and also inclined to be very rude.


M YRTLE sat down with Mr. Scrofleld at a table
airraiingld to accommodate three persons. She
opened her handbag. searched it, took out of it
a small hand-mirror and a little packet containing
lipstick. powder-puff and rouge, and proceeded to do
up her face, though she had attended to that quite
adequately not a quarter of an hour before. A few
dabs and she was satisfied, then she placed the
handling on the vacant chair so that she and Mr.
Scrofleld should have the table to themselves. She
accepted a cigarette from her friend, who solicitously
lit it for her, and puffed at it delicately. Her parted
lips revealed two rows of small, even, glittering
teeth. She was proud of her teeth, but then she
was proud of everything appertaining to her.
"'hat shall I order for you?" asked Mr. Sero-
field. beaming.
"I thought when you invited me to lunch you
would take me to Myrtle Bank Hotel." she replied.
insteadd of that, you bring me to a place where I
have often been before."
1I have never lunched at Myrtle Bank meself,"
confessed Mr. Scrofleld, somewhat amazed at her re-
mark: "*'nd this is quite a nice place, and we can
feel free and easy here."
"I know it's a nice place," said Myrtle. "or I
wouldn't iome here. But I don't understand what
you mean by free and easy. Why do you want to be
free and easy?"
"Myrvrle Bank is for society people," he explained.
"I am ,nt a society man."
"Hut your daughters are society young ladies?"
"'My daughters are my daughters. and I am me-
",, nhile I can know you I can't know your
daughters. it's that that you mean to :-.,y?"
"Snurely not! But you must be reasonable,
Myrtle. I can't interfere with two young ladies who
are women now. I don't understand what you are
driving nt all of a sudden. What you want me to
o'"You could introduce me to them."
"What are you ordering, sir?" asked a waitress,
coming up to the table at that instant. Mr. Scrofield
felt as though help had arrived from an unexpected
source miraculously. He seized the menu and ap-
parenily bent all his energies to an intensive study
of it. I.unch might divert the conversation into
some safer channel.
"W'e'll have some soup first," he said. "then fish.
After that -- would you like a tender steak, Myrtle?"
"Yes. if it's tender."
"It's very tender. Miss," the waitress assured
"And then we will have some coffee and some
applepie." continued Mr. Scrofleld. "Can we get a
"No sir. but there is beer."
"I will have a beer. Beer for you too, Myrtle?"
"No. thank you; nothing but water."
"Have a ginger ale."
"No only water."
"Very well. Don't be too long," Mr. Scrofield
exhorted the waitress.
She promised not to be and tripped off to attend
to the order.
"A nice place this." continued Mr. Scrofield,
plunging into generalities so as to prevent any re-
turn to questions he preferred to avoid; "a nice place
ind well patroniF'cd. This is what I call modern."
Close to them, as though to corroborate his re-

mark about the modernity of the present-day King-
ston lunch room, a gramophone began to broadcast
one of the latest American jazzes, a pretty thing
well played, for the gramophone was one of the
Electric fans overhead cooled the room. The
waitresses were young, brisk and attentive. There
was no disagreeable odour of food from the kitchen,
wherever that might be. Mr. Scrofleld glanced about
him. The other tables and there were many -
were occupied by other lunchers, all well attired
and well-behaved. It was a middle-class resort which
aimed at supplying palatable food at a price within
the means of those who patronised it. The smooth.
coloured metal surfaces of the tables were polished.
the floor was clean, each guest was supplied with a
paper serviette, and the service was prompt. Soon
the soup was before them, steaming hot and served
in white soup plates. In two smaller plates were
large, thick slices of buttered bread. The spoons
had once been electro-plated. and had become worn
with constant use. But they were patently clean.
Mr. Scrofleld proceeded to eat his soup with every
Indication of enjoyment.
A hum of conversation rose in the room, but
the playing of the gramophone prevented the lan-





20 Duke


chers at any table from overhearing what was said
by neighbours at other tables, unless the speakers
talked in a loud tone of voice. One could therefore
be in the midst of company and yet enjoy a private
conversation. One might even make a noise with
one's mouth and entirely escape observation. But
Mr. Scrofield made no noises. He sensed that Myrtle
would not approve of anything of the sort, especial-
ly in public.
She ate daintily. Half-way through the soup
she said suddenly:
"We were talking about your daughters"
"We were talking about your daughters."
"I thought we had finished with that subject!"
"We have only just begun."
"But what is there to say about them. Myrtle?"
"This: you've never once said to me that you
would introduce me to them. I suppose you, don't
want to. You are willing to go about with me, to
take me round: but I mustn't know the great Miss
Scrofelds. I am not good enough. 'Isn't that it, Mr.
"Why don't you call me Harry?"
"Never mind now what I call you; will you
please answer my question?"


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"Certainly. I will Introduce whenever I have a
"You won't. You had a chance last Sunday
night. Coming out of the Palace Theatre they were
right before us as large as life. I don't know it
they saw us; maybe they did. But you saw them,
and you began to hang behind as if you were
afraid. You thought I didn't notice, but I don't see
why you should take me for a fool. Now, how do
you think I can feel when a man I am going about
with don't even want his own children to see me
with him?"
The waitress came up with a tray containing the
boiled ish and butter sauce ordered, took away the
soup plates and placed the fish before Mr. Scrofleld
and Myrtle. then disappeared. Mr. Scrofteld did not
dare hope that Myrtle would forget his daughters
even in the presence of fish. There was something
in her eyes that precluded such a possibility
"For the matter of that." he replied sullenly,
knowing that he would have to say something. "don't
you keep me from knowing your people? I mean,
you never encourage me to come into your house.
I know your father slightly there's nothing the
matter with him why I shouldn't come to see him.
But I saw from the first that you didn't want me to.
What about that?"
"It isn't my father or my mother I am ashamed
of; you can come inside any time. But two old peo-
ple always seem to be there; a Mr. Stanley and a
Miss Mason. The- are old friends of my parents,
and I didn't think you would like to waste your
time and patience talking to them. But you can
come. I was thinking, myself, that it didn't look
decent for you to be always calling for me and re-
maining outside. You sound your motor-car horn
as if you were calling for a servant."
Mr. Scrofleld did not notice that Myrtle was now
speaking more collniuially than she had been doing
a few minutes previously, a sure and certain sign
that if she had been angry she was now winning
back to a better temper. Yet the problem of the
Scrofleld young ladies was as far from being solved
as ever. Their father had said not a word about
arranging that they should meet Myrtle He simply
had not expected this demand.
He was looking miserable, unhappy, and Myrtle
noticed this. Evidently it was not her intention
just then to goad him into bitter anger. His daugh-
ters did not want to know her; she had understood
this from the first. He could not force them to meet
her and obviously was dismayed at the very idea of

trying to do so. He might rather break his friend-
ship with her, she reflected; though she did not
take this notion seriously. As a matter of fact, how-
ever, she did not really want to meet Mr. Scrofleld's
daughters She felt that to know them might not
be at all convenient. Thinking rapidly now, she
concluded that the Misses Scrofleld could go to the
devil so far as she was concerned. But perhaps she
would teach them a thing or two later on.
"Mr. Stanley is an old bore," she confided sud-
denly, changing the subject; "he says he knows you."
"Stanley? Stanley? You mean the man who
works for a newspaper? Yes, I know him a little.
A perfect fool."
"True, O King." laughed Myrtle, and Mr. Scro-
field felt happy and immensely relieved. This was
surely the beginning of better times.
"Miss Emma Mason works for your daughters:
you know her?"
"I must have seen her, but me daughters go their
own way and I go mine: that's what I want you to
understand, Myrtle "
"I understand" dryly ; "and you will under-
stand that if you come inside my house you may
have to meet these two old people. You don't need
to stay long, however, or to come in often. But
they're going to boast about knowing you, they will
be so proud if you sit down and talk to them. Es-
pecially that Mr. Stanley He can't keep his mouth
"I don't mind him," said Mr. Scrofield truthful-
ly; "but what about this Miss Emma?"
"You're afraid she will tell your daughters you
come to see me."
"Of course not, but .
"But of course. Why a grown man like you
should be afraid of your own children I can't un-
derstand. What can they do you? Naturally. you
must like them much better than you like me;
nevertheless if you didn't like me you wouldn't want
to take me about. You're afraid of anybody else be-
sides you' daughters?"
The steaks came at this juncture, and there was
a pause in the conversation. They were accompan-
ied by boiled rice and baked potatoes, with more
slices of bread. Myrtle. thinking of her figure, did
not propose to eat much, if any, of this dish. Mr.
Scrofleld. remembering that the viands had to be
paid for, felt that to leave anything in his plate
would be tantamount to a grievous sin against all
ancient and modern commandments relating to ec-

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"Me daughters can't hinder me from doing what
I like," he said, when the waitress had again depart-
ed. "I told you that before."
"I heard you. Why do you like to take me
"Why, you are stylish, you are pretty, you are
entertaining!" he cried enthusiastically
"Not so loud," she warned him. "I don't want
the whole room to hear what we say to one another.
So I am stylish and pretty. And young. You ever
think of that. Harry? I am young. Your younger
daughter is just my age. So you are old enough to
be my father. Many younger men than you like me,
you never think of that. eh?"
"You mean you want to go about with younger
"I didn't say that. I say that they want to
take me around. You want me too. But one of
them would marry me some day, you know. You
think you would marry me?"
There was laughter in her voice and in her
eyes as she asked this question; it was so directly
put that it nearly took Mr. Scrofleld's breath away.
He had never thought of marriage in connection
with this girl. Had she been thinking of it? Was
she so madly ambitious? Did she imagine that he
could marry her? How could he answer her ques-
tion, what was he to say? But she didn't give him
an opportunity of answering.
"You're not thinking of marrying anybody now,
Harry; I know that. You only want to have a good
time. Well, so do I, and I like you; and so long
as we don't do anything wrong I don't see why we
shouldn't have a good time together. eh?"
"Exactly what I say meself." exclaimed Mr.
Scrofield heartily. "What harm can there be in a
lady and a gentleman having a good time together?
Only worthless people would say that was wrong.
Surely we can be just good friends?"
"Why not?" laughed Myrtle. but her laughter
had in it a hint of mockery. "We can be good friends
and have quite a nice time together "
He was glad now that they had had this con-
versation; it had cleared the air wonderfully. He
could in the future enjoy Myrtle's society whenever
he pleased, could take her out to lunch and to pic-
ture shows and car-rides; could even go to dances
with her, for he danced very well; and she would
be happy and content. Did he expect or hope for
anything more? The question flashed across his
mind, but he dismissed it hurriedly. He preferred
to believe at this moment that he stood upon a high
and virtuous plane, above temptation and the scan
dalous thoughts of men, secure in his self-ap-
probation. He was not only a worthy man, he felt,
but an extremely lucky man. All his life he had
been lucky. And in these days he was enjoying him-
self to the full.
Mr. Scrofleld had married in his early twenties,
and his wife had seen to it that he kept the
sort of company that she preferred. His visiting
friends had been her friends, and she had selected
them with due regard to their social position and
complexion. She believed very shortly after their
marriage that he had an inclination towards "low
company," which meant people with whom she her-
self would not and did not associate; and with an
iron hand, or rather a caustic tongue, she had re-
pressed any indulgence by him in his retrogressive
tendencies. He lived her life, though he did feel that
for him it was not worth living. He made money,
and that he enjoyed immensely. He sent his daugh
ters to the best schools Jamaica afforded, and then,
when they were grown up, he gave them a year or
so in "a finishing school" in Canada. His wife had
died, his daughters had returned, "finished" perhaps.
in so far as education was concerned, but ready to
begin their mother's former control over father.
But here he had rebelled. His new freedom was the
one thing he would not surrender.
He felt far happier sitting with a few ordinary
friends in a nice bar-room than in his own drawing
room, with those whom his daughters regarded as
society folk. He excused himself from this ordeal,
through which he had passed for so many years, by
saying that he was getting old and was no society
person; thus he refused to allow his daughters
to dominate his life as their mother had done. They
had yielded on this point, but made it clear that the
friends he preferred must not cross the threshold
of the Scrofteld residence. He appreciated this em-
bargo, for he was proud of his daughters, wanted
them to move in the highest social circles possible
to them, and would strongly have objected to their
following his example. He was a man, he thought.
and therefore what he did could not matter. His
daughters were ladies, and so must live In a world
quite different from his.
But how he revelled in his world! How exquis-
ite it was, for instance, to sit with a young lady in
a lunch room like this, not caring a curse about so-
ciety. He even relished the idea of going to her
house and meeting her people on a friendly footing.
He would be at home there. He never felt at home
among his daughters' friends.
(Continued on Page









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(Continued from Page 2-i
Lunch was over; the bill came to seven shillings
only, the beer included "A fine lunch, and cheap,"
said Mr. Scrolleld appreciatively, handing the money
to the waitress, whom he did not tip. "These places
are not exorbitant."
"No, quite cheap," said Myrtle.
"And what better could anybody want?"
"As you say. You are coming round for me to-
morrow night?"
"You know I am."
"I thought so. But Harry "
"You know, I can't go out unless you take me,
or unless I use me father's car."
"But don't I take you out?"
"When you come for me. And my parents use
their car themselves: besides, it is old now. I feel
ashamed to go about in it."
"Yes: but "
"You mean you don't understand what I mean?
Well. you sell motor cars and you are a rich man.
Don't you think you might give me a little car as
a present?f

Service Every


The suggestion struck Mr. Scrofteld with almost
the force of a blow. A car? As a present? First
she wanted to be introduced to his daughters, and
now she wanted a car! Was this girl mad? or did
she think he was mad? He would tell her No at
once and so put an end to her extravagant nonsense;
she was absurd, unreasonable, ignorant, avaricious;
did she imagine he was going to make a fool of
himself on her account?
"You give your daughters a nice car, I hear," she
said softly and coaxingly, as she closely watched
him. "Why can't you give me a little one? You
have plenty; you sell them every day. And I have
to walk or take a 'bus. And yet you say you like
me !"
"nBut. Myrtle. think of what your parents and
friends would say if I gave you a car and I
haven't a small car in my garage just now. They
would say all sorts of things. You must think of
your reputation, you know. It would be foolish to
put wrong ideas in the heads of people, who are only
too ready as it is to believe all sorts of lies. They
are a worthless lot worthless'" He seemed over-
come by the moral turpitude of all the world. He
wanted her to share his opinion of the base minds
possessed by all others except themselves. That


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might make his presentation of a car to her seem
quite impossible.
"But who is to know I haven't bought it from
you?" she pointed out quietly "People buy cars and
pay so much a month; they always do it. Surely I
can do the same?"
"But you not going to do that?"
"No. But who will know?" "I will tell my
parents that I bought the car from you on the instal-
ment plan."
"Well. I haven't got a small car."
"Not now, perhaps; but you must have some
shortly. Or maybe you don't want to make me a
present like that; maybe you only want to make a
convenience of me-cheap. All right, Harry; you
needn't say anything more. Don't you think we'd
better go now?"
He rose heavily out of his seat. This would be
the last time he and this impossible young woman
would meet. If he saw her again she might bring
up once more the obnoxious subject of a small car,
whereas he was not prepared to go beyond the giv-
ing of a few presents, at intervals, at a compara-
tively moderate cost. What was he getting from
her anyhow? She must be mad!
They walked slowly towards the door. Myrtle
glanced about her appreciatively. The shelves
stocked with brightly labelled cans of fruit. meats,
fishes, vegetables, attracted her. The glass show-
cases in which all sorts of tasty things were display-
ed seemed to call her towards them. But she did
not pause until she saw some bottles of perfumery
lying in little nests of delicate pink and blue. She
stood still to gaze at these with a cry of admiration.
"But they are too expensive for me," she inirmiured.
theyy are not for a poor girl like me."
The hint was obvious; Mr. Scrofield could not
ignore it. Besides, perfume was as nothing com-
pared to a car. "Let me treat you to one of these,"
he suggested.
"Oh, no, Harry; that wouldn't be fair to you."
"Why not? Have a couple."
"You know, you are too generous; you're spoil-
ing me."
"Nonsense, yrtle'" He was pleased with this
remark about his abundant generosity. He threw
prudence to the winds. He would show her the sort
of man he was.
"Well, if you insist", she said, as :hough quite
overwhelmed, "I will take that one and that one."
She pointed to two expensive boxes of perfumery.
"And what about some powder, Miss?" asked
the attendant, who was very much on the spot. "We
have some very nice face powder."
She seemed to hesitate; it was Mr. Scrof~eld
who said, certainlyl y what is your best powder?'
He was told immediately; he ordered two boxes.
"Have you any lipstick!' asked Myrtle.
The attendant had: apparently it was the best
lipstick in the country, if not, indeed, in the world;
the shop also sold some wonderful soaps, and other
things which no lady should be without. Mr. Scro-
field, now sailing gaily forward on the creating wave
of generosity, did the ordering; Myrtle stood quietly
and allowed him to buy for her what he wanted.
She was sniliiig slightly, even thoughtfully. The
bill came to several pounds. The total was a little
startling to Mr. S'rofield. an hour ago he had not
remotely anticipated such extravagance. Yet he him-
self had now indulged in it, and without any obvious
persuasion. Vell. he reflected, he did not care.
.Myrtle would now see that stinginess had no part
in his composition; and perhaps she would also
agree that if he had refused to give her a car -
impossible idea it was only because he had
thought so much about her reputation. He left the
establishment elated. "Shall I drive you home?" he
But she had been thinking Her parents would
know that she herself had not purchased all these
ihingc. they might guess that lthey had been given
to her by Mr. Scrofield. She could not wisely take
them all home; only one or two now, and the rest
gradually. Someone must keep them for her. One
of her girl-friends? No; these girl-friends of hers
might try to "cut her out," and though she was cer-
tain that in any fight for a lucrative purveyor of
,presents she could beat them, it would be as well to
avoid a fight at present.
"I am going to see Miss Emma Mason for a lit-
tle while." she answered; "you might drive me
She felt certain that Miss Emma would keep her
presents for her if asked to do so, and would keep
her mouth shut it warned to do so. She would
make Miss Emma her confidante; that would be
safest in the long run. If Miss Emma should ever
talk, so much the worse for that lady. But she
would not.
Myrtle was aware that, in spite of anything she
might say, Miss Emma was her slave.
Therefore it was that Miss Emma was visited
by Myrtle but fifteen minutes after Mr. Stanley had
left, and compelled to become a party to an intrigue
she had herself condemned.

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THERE was an air of expectancy about the house.
Myrtle surveyed the dining table critically,
refixed a spoon here, a fork there, altered the
position of the vase of flowers she had placed on
the talle. and devoutly hoped that Susan would not
knock it over and so deluge the table-cloth in water.
Susan. not being accustomed to flowers on the
table. regarded this innovation with a critical and
even a hostile eye. Flowers were all very well on
trees in the garden. but Susan could see no use for
them otherwise, except, of course, at funerals and
weddings Why shouldn't people be able to eat
without having to look on roses and on what Susan
calegoriailly described as "green bush"?
Mr. Stanley was there, and so was Miss Emma.
Jane was clad in a gown which she did not ordin-
arily wttar on Sundays at home; it was usually re-
served fIr church-going and other such occasions.
Mr. Brogie was dressed in tweed suit, with collar,
necktie, and well polished shoes. He was uncomfor-
table But this was, in a manner of speaking, a state
occasion. Mr. Scrofleld was to lunch (or dine) with
them that day.
Myrtle had arranged it the day before while on
her aiv I.. Miss Emma's house. She had suddenly
suggested to her friend that he should drop in to
lunch iln thus meet the family. and he had readily
ronsen'dliil Then he left her at Miss Emma's, and
she had rushed into that lady's apartment laden with
all the good things with which Mr. Scrofleld had
presented her. She had had a very interesting talk
with Miss Enm in.
"I Uilnt you to keep some of these things for
me. Miss Emma," cried Mlyrtle. after kissing that
lady. something which, in these later days, she very
seldom did
"Keep them for you? Why of course, me love,
if you want it," agreed Miss Emma, well pleased.
"But uhy you don't take them home? What are
"['erfumery, soap, powder, sweets and a lot of
other things. I don't want to take them home all
at once." said Myrtle.
"No? You think you' parents will blame you for
buying so much at once? But, after all, you work
for your own money and can do what you like with
it "
"1 know; but, you see, I didn't buy these. Mr.
Scrofleld cave them to me, and I don't want to go
into arly lng explanation with me mother and father.
They wouldn't understand."
"Oh'" exclaimed Miss Emma, sitting down on
her bed suddenly, as though her legs had rebelled
against their customary duty of upholding her in-
considerable frame.
"It s quite all right, Miss Emma. I lunched with
Mr. Scrufleld today and when we were coming out
from lunch he offered to buy these presents for me,
and I couldn't very well refuse, could I? That would
have been insulting. But if I take them home all
at once mamma will begin to ask questions, and
me father will look sour, an' there is nothing at all
for them to worry about. So I thought I would come
to you That's all."
"But Myrtle .."
"1 don't want to interfere with your business,
me dear. but you know I care for you. And when a
gentleman like Mr. Scrofleld give presents like these
to a young girl well. you know the old saying:
If anyh dy give you wood to burn they will come
back for the ashes."
"There Is no ashes to come back for, where I
am concerned," answered the girl confidently. "I
am going to take home some of these things and tell
my parit.is how I got them. I am going to tell them
the truth for I have nothing to hide; but I don't
want them to know right away how much I got. I
know ym will understand, but they wouldn't."
Mils Emma's heart missed a beat. Did this last
remark suggest that Myrtle knew more about her
past than she had ever imagined? But who could
possibly have told the child? Myrtle's next words
relieved Miss Emma's consternation.
"Ymi have more practical sense than papa and
mamnim. Miss Emma," she said, with intent to flat-
ter. "and so you will not imagine all sorts of fool-
ishness. That's why I come to you. Mr. Scrofleld
likes me and I don't dislike him. He takes me out
now and then, and if he wants to make me a few
presents, why should I refuse them? He can afford
it, and he ought to be glad if I take anything from
him "
"Yes. Ine love, but suppose he should want any-
thing from you?"
"He's getting plenty already."
"He's getting plenty. Don't I go out with him
sometimes' Isn't that a lot when you remember he
is old enough to be me father? What more can he
want ?"
"He ought to want nothing more, and not even
as much." agreed Miss Emma with vigour: "but
men are funny people, though you, who hardly be-
gin to live as yet, wouldn't know that."

"I know more than you think." laughed Myrtle,
and Miss Emma, though she would not say so open-
ly, felt sure that the young lady was speaking the
Then she did what Myrtle had confidently ex-
pei ted she would do.
"Very well." she agreed; "I will keep these
things for you, and won't say anything about them
to you' father and mother."
"Or to Mr. Stanley?"
"He is the last person I would mention it to:"
retorted Miss Emma with a sniff. "He would tell
your parents about it same time if he thought that
would curry favour with them. That man Is only
thinking of himself."
"That's what I believe myself," replied Myrtle.
not at all displeased that there should be a division
in the Stanley-Mason camp. But she did not accept
Miss Emma's contemptuous estimate of Mr. Stanley's
potential faithlessness to her.
"And now that you mention Mr. Scrofield to me,
I can tell you lsomthiiig that I would 'ave been
afraid to say to you otherwise," continued Miss
Emma. whereupon she told Myrtle much that she
had related to Mr. Stanley earlier that afternoon,
but modified it a little so as not to hurt the girl's

W0 w

Branch es:

feelings too much. For instance, she did not re-
peat the contemptuous epithet "low company" or
hint at anything said by the Scrofleld girls of Lottie
Myrtle listened attentively, asking a question
every now and then, "So that's what his daughters
think and say, eh? Who do they imagine they are,
and what do they think I am?"
"They are full of themself. me dear. but what
can we do? They are big an' we are small."
"I am not small retorted Myrtle sharply. "I
don't owe them anything and I don't want their com-
pany. and it isn't me that seek their father out. He
is in love with me, not I with him. Suppose he
wanted to marry me, Miss Emma they couldn't
prevent it."
"But he won't want to do that. me love," cried
Miss Emma, alarmed once more. "Don't let him full
up your head with all that foolishness. it is what
men say when they want to deceive a young girl.
Do, me love, be careful."
"Don't fear for me," Myrtle assured her, laugh-
ing. "I don't love him and I wouldn't marry him if
he was made of gold. When I marry a man he must
(Continued on P'elrr 27)

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(Continued from Page 25)
not only have something, but I must care for him.
Money is a lot but it isn't everything."
*No," admitted Miss Emma sadly. "but some-
times a girl say she don't love a man, and present-
ly she come to love him and act like a fool, and then
all the trouble Is hers. Besides. Myrtle, if you go
about too much with Mr. Scrofleld, that will keep
off other men, and you must get married, you know.
You are all right now, but you will be lonely when
you are older if you have only yourself to look after.
Don't spoil you' chances, me dear, while you have
them "
"Not likely,' said Myrtle with a shrug. "I have
plenty of time; I am only twenty-one. You mustn't
neglect to come to lunch to-morrow."
Miss Emma had never neglected to do this while
able to move about, yet she was glad that Myrtle
should suggest such a possibility. She appreciated a
definite invitation. "I won't forget," she promised.
'r. Scrofleld will be there."
'Yes. I invite him to meet you all, why not?
If li- can know me he can know my friends; if he
don't want to know me friends, then I don't want
to know him I am not like his daughters."
This was, to Miss Emma, a new Myrtle. an alto-
gether surprising and greater and more generous
Myrile. At the same time she hoped that Mr. Scro-
field would not mention to his daughters that he had
met Emma Mason at luncheon at the Broglle home.
For that might result in those young ladies deciding
swiftly upon a change of dressmaker, a calamity not
to be considered light in these days of acute competi-

S., on this Sunday, the family, with their two
old friends, awaited the arrival of Mr. Scrofleld, and
there was tension in the air.
Miss Emma felt that she was now a sworn ally
of M.rtlII'". but that her being so rather separated
her from Vincent and Jane, who were to be kept in
the dark as to things with which Miss Emma was ac-
quainted. As for Mr. Stanley, he was now definitely
considered by her as an outsider, as merely a busy-
body who spied upon other people and got over
thrown on sidewalks by ladies of ponderous dimen-
sions Miss Emma, though she had been on good
terms with Mr. Sianley hitherto, now rejoiced in his
discomfiture on his hearing Myrtle talk quite calm
ly to her mother and father about lunching with Mr.
Scrofield yesterday, a fact which Mr. Stanley had
Imagined she would have wanted to keep secret, and
his knowledge of which had made him feel extremely
important. Myrtle made it clear that, as some sort
of return for the lunch she had had, she had in-
vited Mr. Scrofleld to lunch with her family and
friends today: there was therefore, so to speak, a
formal exchange of luncheons with no privacy what-
ever attached to the matter. But a semi-privacy at-
tached to the presents. Only Mr. Scr:.-ield. Myrtle.
and Miss Emma knew about all of these.
Mr. Scrofield presently arrived, was introduced
to Jane he said at once that he already knew all
the others and Mr. Stanley immediately prepared
to charm the rich man with conversation of an up-
lifting description. But to his preliminary remarks
Mr. Scrofteld paid no attention, devoting himself sole-
ly to Myrtle, as everybody observed. He praised her
bouse. the furniture in it; he praised her to her
parents, congratulating them on having so fine and
Intelligent a daughter. though this tribute Myrtle's
mother did not receive with as much enthusiasm as
he perhaps expected. He had long wished, he said,
to break bread with them; he felt that he was al-
ready a friend of the family. His contentment seem-
ed genuine. As a matter of fact it was.
Myrtle, greatly adventurous, had recruited
Charles as a butler for that occasion, though Charles
had never waited on table before. He was assistant
to Susan, who was secretly delighted that someone
much more incompetent than she should be present
to bring her abilities as butleress into high relief.
Charles was garbed in his best clothes. and his idea
.f waiting on table was to stand somewhere in the
dining ronn and gaze abstractedly out of a window
opening on the backyard. Being puzzled as to what
to do. he very wisely attempted to do nothing But
this did nii-t prevent Susan from reproaching him
loudly with indifference or laziness, to the obvious
enmbarrassiiient of Myrtle, but to Mr. Scrofleld's gen-
uine amusement.
It wa- ju-t when Charles, ordered by Susan to
pass the biead, had upset it on the floor, that a car
was heard to stop at the front gate. Almost itmme-
diately a sharp rap sounded on the door. "Who can
that be?" wondered Mr. Broglie; "we not expecting
any more people to-day?"
"Not that I know f." replied Myrtle, to whom
the question was addressed.
"Did you anticipate anybody?" Mr. Broglie
asked his wife, while the rap was repeated, this time
more loudly. He hoped Mr. Scrofleld would appre-
elate his dignified language.
"Suppose we see who it is?" said .Myrtle. practi-

rally, rising as she spoke. "Perhaps whoever it is
has mistaken the house."
She went to the front door, opened it, and there
she found two men standing. One was dark like
her mother, thick-set and more than middle-aged.
The other was a trifle fairer than her father and a
young man. The elder one spoke.
*'Is this where Mrs. Jane Broglie live?" he
"Yes." answered Myrtle. "she is my mother."
"So you are her daughter eh?"
"Yes, naturally. since she's my mother. Do you
want her?"
Myrtle spoke coldly; she objected to the inter-
ruption at that moment; she also did not see what
a man who so obviously looked like someone from
the country should wish to call on her mother for.
He was decently dressed, it is true. and he had come
in a car, which was distinctly in his favour; but she
did not want Mr. Scrofleld to meet any more people
of a distinctly lower social status than his own that
day. He had already met a sufficient number of that
class on a fooling of equally.
As to the younger man. Myrtle had given him
only a casual glance. He did not interest her, and,
anyhow, he stood behind the elder one, leaving him
to make all the enquiries.
"Yes. I would like to see your inuthier. young
lady." said the dark stranger who conducted the con-
versation. "So you are her daughter? What's your
"Miss Broglie," sharply.
"I know that; I mean, what's your Christian
M) rilt did not reply; she felt that this was im-
pudence. "My" mother is at lunch," she said coldly;
"can I give her your message?"
"There's no message; I will wait till she finish
lunch. Wait till she see me!"
"She can't see you now Mr .: what name
shall I tell her?"
"Never mind the name; wait till she see me.
An' I think you might ask us inside, Myrtle. It is
not manners to keep us standing outside you' door
like this."

Myrtle was stupefied with anger and amazement.
The man must be crazy! Yet there was something
confident about him; he spoke with assurance, even
with an air of command. She stepped aside. "Come
in," she said, and the two men entered the sit-
ting room. They could see plainly the party at
lunch. "Well. Jane," called out the older stranger,
"don't you know who it is?"
All eyes were at once turned towards him. Jane
rose slowly, looking at him with a puzzled expres-
sion on her face. Then her voice rose in a cry of
surprise, "It is, isn't it Bill?" she asked, "is it
you, Bill? Bill. me brother?"
"I didn't think you would know me, Jane, after
all this long time since you and me meet, an' I
wouldn't know you too if I saw you anywhere
else than in your own house Twenty years since
you an' me see one another! Iroglie. how are you?"
Jane had thrown herself into her brother's'arms,
sobbing with affection and delight, careless who
might see and hear her. Only once had brother and
sister come together since her marriage; they had
not even written to one another; it had seemed as
ilhongh they were separated for ever. Yet here he
was, and he had evidently been at pains to find out
where she lived.
"Bill Burrell!" exclaimed Mr. Broglie: "why. I
would have known you anywhere. How did you
find out I lived here?"
"Looked in the telephone book this morning,
when I come to town. I knew that a man of your
standing would have a telephone."
"And do you remember me. Mr. Burrell?" asked
Mr. Srlanlt-y. desirous that some of the limelight of
this unexpected reunion should fall upon him.
"No. sir, can't say that I do."
"I met you once before, twenty years ago."
"Then I wouldn't remember you," said Mr. Bur-
rell definitely. "Jane, Vince.nt. this is me young
assistant, Mr. Crisman, Joseph Crisman. I brought
him with me today to meet me Kitnston family; he
is from Kingston himself, when he was younger, and
come up to the city every now and then. He bin

Don't Let Me

Down, Daddy!

I-IE has sublime faith in
'Daddy's" power to guard
-him from mischance. No man
would willingly betray such
trust. Even so, every father is subject
to the contingency of a shortened life.
Failure to provide against it may let
his loved ones down into a sea of want.
The way to avoid this disaster is to
Sown enough Life Insurance to guar-
a" antre a monthly income to his family.
Then his protective power will live
on even if he is taken away.
If you are not absolutely sure that
your family would have enough money
to live on month by month, fill in and
"..... .l. mail the coupon below. It will bring
..... S advice as to how best to arrange such
E.tbliibed 1887 an income within the means at your


rmmmmmmmmmmmin ia minmmm immmmm nm m mmm1
S(Maail I 1 wat so knowow best to provide a monthly income for my
I dependents within the means at my disposal. It is understood
I that your advice does not place me under any obligaion.

Ae....... ........................................I
Add ............ ......................................................................... .... I
A ... s............... .................................. .......................... .......................................... I
' .. .. ........ """ '" ,,,,, r ,, ,,,,,,,,,, II."



with me now for the last five years an' I are satis-
fied with him."
Mr. Crisman was thereupon introduced to all the
people present, but the attention of these was still
concentrated on Mr. William Burrell. They saw that
he was dark like his sister, almost black. They
noticed too that he spoke with a countryman's drawl.
He had "country" written all over him. Yet he did
not seem at all disconcerted at finding himself in
city company, and even Mr. Scrofleld he appeared to
take for granted and as a person of no particular
"Won't you have some dinner with us, Bill?"
his sister asked. "We nearly finish, hut there is
plenty left, an' I so glad to see you'"
"We had lunch at the place I stopping' at, Jane;
but thank you all the same," he said. "Don't let
me stop you from finishing you' lunch, though Me
and Joe will sit in the other room an' wait on you."
"You must sit at table with us," insisted Mr.
Broglie hospitably, "even if you don't eat nAhing.
Fancy you turning up here today! And you didn't
even give us a ring to say you were toming."
"I wanted to give you a surprise. This young
lady, your daughter, didn't know who I were, so she
look me up an' down an' almost wanted to order me

! N






Wire or Write for

Reservations to

Good Hope,

Falmouth P.O.

away 0, yes, .Myrtle I saw that quite plain. An'
you are right. Don't make anybod) get too famil-
iar with you."
He turned again to his sister "So this is you'
daughter, eh, Jane? Well. I couldn't believe I had
such a spanking niece."
Myrtle thought that she, on her part, could
never have aliticipatedl the appearance, on this day
of all days, of an uncle who was the reverse of
spankingng" and whom she wished back in his coun-
try home most hlvatily She had said and believed
that she didn't really care to know Mr. Scrofield's
daughters. But now she admitted to herself that
those two young ladies would be justified in not
wishing to meet a girl who had so countryfied-look-
ing an uncle as this, a man who spoke broadly, had
no iregard for grammar, and was so dark. Did he re-
main in Kingston. he might drag her down. She felt
ashamed if him. But she knew that here and now,
at least, she must be polite and even nice to him.
In a vague sort of way, of course, she had al-
ways known of him. He lived somewhere in Man-
chester, he never came to Kingston, never wrote;
her father had believed that he was doing fairly well.
making a living anyhow. But what sort of a living?
Very little would go a long way in the country.
He had been married, but his wife had died
very many years ago; he had no legitimate chil-
dren; whether he had any others she of course did
not know. And did not care. What worried her
now was the prospect of his staying in Kingston
for some time and becoming known among her cir-
cle of friends and acquaintances as her uncle. That
could do her no good whatever. Even liberal-minded
Harry Scrrifteld. for instance, would think much less
of her as a lady now that he had met Mr. William
Burrell. She inwardly cursed her ill-fortune.
"Let's get back to lunch," suggested Vincent, and
led the way. The others followed. Two chairs were
placed at the table for the visitors, but they would
have nnthing to eat, or even to drink. Myrtle's eyes
sought and found Mr. S,-ri.tleld'-. they solicited sym-
pathy. Mr. Scrofleld looked at her sympathetically.
He shrewdly guessed what her feelings were.


/ OU are in Kingston for long, Mr. Burrell?"
I asked Myrtle, hoping to hear that her uncle
would be departing the very next day.
"You must say 'Uncle Bill,' .1lyrtll." said her
mother; "he isn't Mr. Burrell to you."
"But I are strange to her," Mr. Burrell pointed
out: "it will teck her some time before she get use
to Uncle. Even I feel like saying Miss Broglie to
her. To fancy I have such a niece!"
"She's not the only one, Bill: there's her sister,
which live in Montego Bay. But you don't know
"I know her all right. Jane; I saw her in Mon-
tego iay only last year. But she not like lvyrtle:
not the sane style at all. She don't 'ave much am-
bition. Myrtle have plenty."
Praise of this kind, so unsolicited, so unexpect-
ed, instantly mollified Myrtle s feelings towards the
uncouth visitor and relative. At least he could ap-
preciate her, and saw at once she was ambitious.

That was in his favour. Nevertheless his continued
presence in Kingston might be a serious handicap.
"I didn't know how long I are staying, Myrtle,
but perhaps not more than a few days," he said. "I
don't like Kingston. it's too noisy for me. I are a
pure countryman, you know.
"Business bring me up here," he went on con-
versationally. "I want Mr. Crisman to stay up in
Kingston to look after me business at this end. I
are in the pn.-dutr line now, besides being a plant-
All eyes were now turned on Mr. Crisman, whose
quiet demeanour had hitherto caused him to be
somewhat overlooked. He was neatly dressed in a
palm beach suit and soft shirt, while his necktie
was certainly not of a cheap variety. He was not
handsome, yet his face had character, his forehead
and eyes gave an impression of firmness and relia-
bility. He was obviously of a better class than Mr.
Burrell's. yet the latter had spoken of him as his
assistant, as a man, therefore, paid by him to take
orders. But if this was so, it surely followed
that Mr. Burrell was something more than a small
country farmer. So thought Myrtle, so thought Mr.
Scrflteld. even Mr. Stanley began to think that the
Bill of whom he had heard from Jane in days gone
by, and whom he had met once and then forgotten.
must have prospered in the interval, though prosperi-
ty of the mind. as Mr. Stanley reminded himself,
was infinitely superior to prosperity of the pocket.
He had just said that he dealt in produce as
well as being a planter. That might be mere words;
but, if his assertion were true, it decidedly argued
a fairly good financial position.
Myrtle scanned him keenly. Yes: he did look
like a prosperous man.
But Bill Burrell had prospered mentally also.
There had been a time in his life when, like his
sister, he had spoken in the dialect of the Jamaican
,peasant, when he had been but one remove, as it
were. from the status of the peasant. He was but
a peasant proprietor then, he was something quite
different now. And so his very speech had changed.
He no longer spoke like a labourer, and he had
never fiorcii-ttn the teaching he had received in the
elementary school near Mount Malus which he
had attended in his youth.
M.let lig his sister now, after so many years of
separation, he naturally reverted to olden times.
He glan.ic d round the dining room again; he seemed
to approve of it. "'You remember, Jane," said he, "how
often you used to say, when you was only a girl,
that it was only white people an' brown people who
had anything in this country You think so now?"
"Things have changed. Hill." she answered; "we
have a little now, like a lot of other people. Vincent
isn't doing badly."
"I can't complain meself," her brother admitted.
"But I had to work 'ard before I could make
money. An' now the Government want to take
away what I earn with me sweat an' give it to a
heap of worthless loafers who can't make a bread
for themself. They tax us for education. They tax
us for horsepital. They tax us for this. that, an'
the other thing What I say is that if a man have
anything in him, he don't want all this help from
Government, and that those who want it can't do

The Alliance Assurance Co., Ltd.


-- LONDON, E. C.



ASSETS EXCEED 40,000,000


For all Classes of Fire Insurance.





L a I






4 Service








e Courtesy

The Rapid VL

82-86 Harbour St. (Cor.

nothing much with it Look at Vincent here. look
at Mr Scrofield. look at Ile If we ca;n get on. why
can t olher ipeiple'' An if they can't get on by them-
stir. Ihalt the use of trlyli' to help them" That a
what I would like somnelbdy to tell nme
S'Well. you knwa. M.r Burrell. interpolated Mr
Slanllly seeing at last a chance to ilnpress this new.
coin'er with hiI' superior inteil llet 'soi al jislift
demllands h that those who have achieved success should
be ma:id- tol assist the inijority %1 illoul whose passive
aid. si to speak. they could not hate do.'ne so well
Gelt-i a country with a population of let us say a
mllliain. it is evident that a iian who lives and
works in it will ilmake Ill-re money than if the rnpit-
latioli was but a quarter of a million C'larly. then.
that man achieves a greater degree of success be-
cause of the greater size of the population, and it Is
but just that the iii pulation as well as ht himself
ahbuld share ill the benefit Io I make myself
"W'hat do you do for a living, sir"" abruptly
enaqil i'e Mr iRurrell.
"I work on a newspaper." replied Mr Stanley
with pride
"Then. if y)iu will excuse ite saying so. you
don't know what Inu talking about What yi:u mean
is that because there is plenty of damn loafers in
Jamaica. I an' those like me who work hard and
make a little money nlust believe that it Is through
then that we 'ave anything an' that we must give
them s ile' W'll. if t1 was left I1n ile. they woildnl t
get a penny. hut rf course the Government have
the handle an' we 'aie the blade so we have to
submit But I know how I work. an' I remember
how hard it was for Jane an' me an' our parents
when we was young. an' if we are all right now.
It don t due to the population hut to we ourself
That's what I say. and not all the argument In the
world can change me mind."
Mr Stanley was appalled at this reactionary
attitude he did not expect to find in a nan of Vi
Burrell's appearance such bitter toryism Nor did
he like the contemptuous tone in which Mr. Bur-
rell had spoken to him. evidently this gentlemlian
had no high regard for Intellect But what could ine
expect from a clodhopper? What should one de-
mand of a person who was evidently low down In
the scale of Intelligent beings?
"One of the first things I got to do trmnorrow is
to arrange to buy a couple of trucks Mr Burrell
went on. turning abruptly to his brother in law as
though he had finished with Mr Stanley for ever
"I waln tin good new motor trucks. I am not turn







RUCK, 011



AAents For ...

S"BELLS" Packil
Jointings Etc....



* Canaaa cr empire
Storage Batteries

* Rolcut


ilcanizing Co., Ltd.

Duke St.)
75 Harbour St.

ing iI any. fiir I sold one of me old ones only last
week and the itllilr two I have I iare goiii Int ktoep'
'"TIo trucks. M1r Rurrell"" (qltii led Mr Scro-
lrild in tlivnis of deep resplert *"Tw newi trucks" It
i. lucky you haie niiit 1ie luday I sell trucks "
'"Oh y)'u alt' tile owner iof Scrilfl'ld Garage?'
asked Iir Hrlirlll. "I oinehoiw had .1 iu upltion that
y'1al i %
"I am. and it is lurky -
"F,-r yani. perhaps. .r Scrofleld. sinte it is you
selling anl I huyin and there Is plenty of other
people selling mniotr trucks. an' riot lo n many with
money to pay rash'
"Quite so. (qulte so Mr Burrell. ha-ha-ha'" .Mr.
Scrofleld was now the keen businessman anxious to
bear in mind that the customer is always right and
that to be polite to one who wanted two trucks at
once was more important than paying attention to
all the tell cmmniandments. "You must let me show
you some of my trucks I can assure you. sir. in
strict confidence, that there Is no truck as good as
those I sell In this country. The others haven't the
duratility. you can t rely on them To morrow I
will put In lour hand some letters I have had from
big planters like yourself about my trucks. I will
call for oil. Mr Hurrell. at any hour you like, and
take yoiu tlo miy garage What lime- would suil you,
sir? Any hour you name will du for inme
**Say ntn t o'lock suggestedl Mt lurrell "but
I don t Iprinilse I are going to bui ally I ricks from
Yvu. You understand that. Sir Scrutfeld"
"'Qulie. sir quite you are unly going to look
at those 1 have Qutle right Though 1 am certain
that when you have seen mineln y.'.i won't hesitate
about doing a little business."
I hope you are right," replied .Vr Burrell cor-
dially. 'I iiuld like to do business with you. espec-
tally as you are a friend of me Kiiigstnn family
.lfttr .ill. i nllnmn nmu-t try an' hielp hiai famhbly an'
their friends "
"Of cti.urse. of course." muttered Mr. Stanley.
".Adliiirahlt saellrtiientsl.'" rj uiirlaed Mr. Scro
field, who now wished to be regarded as a close and
faithful friend .if the House i f Brnglie. and one of
vtrv lon1 stl tinding Also. as lint, whi ishlied to hie
a friend of M.r Hlurrell l als
And Indeed in Mr. Scroleld s eyes Mr Burrell
noiw tippardi .ai ai sort nt miasiter iprsilnality. as ai
man in a position to purchase, not one, but two
trucks at nile. and. what was even more astonish-
ing. to pay fr-r them cash down That meant at
least 7Tu Such a customer must be attached to a

: 2733
Phones : 2737
: 2645

lirmn itlh hoops of steel Hie was a remarkable man.
Line. If not perhaps with a heart of gold. yet with
something even better which was a pocket of gold.
Evidently Jane Burrells family was of a very
superior order It was no wonder that Myrtle had
so niuch in her. every member of the family must
have a great deal in her or him to have produced an
uncle with '-, much ready money.
Myrtle too now looked upon her uncle with dif
fIrent eyes It camie to her that lie must be' fairly)
well t.ff perhaps even rich. lie spoke like a mni:
while had made money, who actually had toney She
eyed lini penetratingly nince more. she felt that his
self-assurance could only be based upon a respectable
hank balance, since no merely struggling person
could he at perfect ease In the company of people
who, living in Kingston. had naturally acquired
sophlstication and might therefore presume to pat
ronise those from the country who had not enjoyed
their advantages. Call him uncle? Of course she
would call him uncle. He was worthy of that desig-
nation. And had he not himself expressed admira-
tion of her quite frankly?
"You have any family in the country, uncle'"
she asked in a detached and innocent tone. as though
interested in his comfort and happiness alone.
"No. my deur that ib tI slla' There's your sis-
ter. of course. but you don'll n'ian her. and sli Is very
different from you I have only Jane and you. ain
Jane, like meself. is going down the hill now. So
I can say I have only you. Myrtle That's why I
wanted to see you tlday "
"There sn t s,- much to see.' laughed Myrtle.
"and please don't say I am fishing
"'.iN Inswllri'd Mir Burrell '"you I11ti rishin'
You're only nlldetst I are proud ofi you. Myrtle: I
can't tell you how glad I are to come here today
to see you You have looks and style: if I had a
daughter [ would like her to be like you You en-
SNi libdy asked nit- yet. uncle "
'Then they must be blind. Or perhaps they
looking' for money Don't have nothing to do with
that sort. me dear. they only want you for what
they can get out of you."
"Well. nobody will get any money out of me.
said Myrtle. "for I have none "
N.-1t now li'rhalis. built y'tii ill some day. They
will know that -- men find out these things very
quick When people up here know I are your uncle
an' have no children of me own. they will say. 'that
airl nri. poor' lhe s warni And if iny of them
talk to you any way you don't like. Just let them





know you not putting up with it. An' if they go too
far, just tell me about it and I will settle them. KeI r
yourself up, like your mother an' I do before you.
Look at you' mother today. An' look at me! But I are
boasting, instead of thanking God that I are not in
"Of course, of course," murmured Mr. Stanley,
who also regarded the holders of wealth with con-
siderable awe in spite of his social philosophy.
"You mean, sir, that I should be glad I are not
in gaol?" enquired Mr. Burrell coldly, turning his
eyes towards Mr. Stanley. "Of course not," hastily
explained that gentleman. "If my words gave any
such impression, I withdraw them."
"My uncle is buying trucks from Mr. Srrofleld"
Myrtle cut in, to change the conversation, and also
to give Mr. Scrofteld a hint. "And I am going to buy
a ear from him, too, a small car. On the instal-
ment plan. He knows about it already."
"Well if I buy my trucks from him, he must
let you have a gpi.d bargain," commented Mr. Bur-
rell. saying exactly what Myrtle had hoped he would.
"I intend to," said Mr. Scrofleld. feeling that he
was called upon to say something. He knew that
Myrtle had mentioned the car she wanted in order
to make the matter appear to her people as one of
business only, and also to trap him into making

some sort of promise to her. But, he reflected, as
a business man he should surely be able to fnd a
way out of such a trap after Mr. Burrell had
purchased the two trucks he needed.
Lunch now being over, with Charles not having
upset anything more and with Susan satisfied that
hullt ring was her forte-a delusion resting upon no
tiniest basis of fact-the party rose from the table
and strolled on to the front verandah. Mr. Bur-
rell disclosed no dispisitiun to leave immediately;
it was, indeed, considered the height of bad manners
for any guest to depart as soon as he had had some
entertainment, however slight And Mr. Burrell was
a stickler for conventional behaviour in so far as he
knew of it. So were all the others upon formal occa-
sions. Each one was now anxious to do what was con-
sidered right and proper in the eyes of the world.
It might be inconvenient, but convenience and com-
fort must ruthlessly be sacrificed to good form if
one a.piired to be regarded as a person of decent
breeding and established social standing.
The sun had slanted a little to the west, but the
verandah was still flooded with its rays. Never-
theless, as a wind blew strongly from the south and
swept up the Mountain-slope Avenue, sitting out of
doors was not intolerable. The men perspired free-
ly, their foreheads beaded with water, their limbs

made hot and uncomfortable by the garments that
they wore; the women were in better circumstance
since, in the modern fashion, they wore as few clothes
as the imperatives of Sunday observance demanded.
But they all would have wished to be elsewhere
and diffrrenlly clothed just then: Mr. Broglie re-
sented his collar and reflected that a jacket after a
heavy lunch was a sort of straight-waistcoat not to
be worn by intelligent men, a feeling shared by
Mr. Burrell and Mr. Stanley. Only Mr. Joe Cris-
man seemed at ease. But he was more ligihly
dressed than the other men, was much younger, and
as he had managed to seat himself close to Myrtle
he did not seem to mind the heat at all.
Mr. Burrell had selected an easy chair and seem-
ed still inclined to centre the conversation on him-
self. He was, in truth, enjoying himself. For years
he had looked forward to nImetinig Jane and her
husband. Time had been when the marriage of his
sister to a man like Vincent Broglie had seemed an
almost incredible elevation for the Burrell family;
Vincent could patronise them if he liked; they
would have accepted this patronage with apprecia-
tion. The years had passed, Vincent had not de-
clined in status; on the contrary, he had prgr *ssed
But, meanwhile. James Burrell had progressed also,
had demonstrated a capacity for making money that
no one would have suspected in him while yet he
lived and worked in the little Iillagt' of Mount Ma-
And yet, as one now looked at his square, prom-
inent chin. keen eyes and firm expression of counten-
ance, one could see that this was a man born to suc-
He had long since left the Broglies far behind.
No wonder he experienced today an urge to relax
and to unroll the story of his life's success, especial
ly as there was present a man who, doubtless, was
considered well-off and whose demeanour and colour
marked him out as one who honoured the fami ly by
lunching at their board. Mr. Burrell had noticed-
for he was a very observant man, tlhnilich he seldom
boasted of so being that Mr. Scrofield had what
was called a crush on \Mviie- and had concluded
that Mr. Scrofield's real reason for being there that
duy was Myrtle and Myrtle alone. But why that
reason? Mr. Burrell, who had a questioning if not
indeed a somewhat suspicious nature, wanted that
question answered. He had quickly, and uncon-
sciously, made himself responsible for Myrtle's wel-
fare. He seriously doubted whether Jane and Vin-
cent could discharge such a responsibility effective-
I.king across from his chair to where Mr. Scro-
field sat perspiring, Mr. Burrell said to him:
"I understand you doing pretty well in your
business. Mr. Scrofleld."
"I can't complain," replied Scrofleld, who in-
wardly was complaining biti-rly that Mr. Crisman
should have placed himself so near to Myrtle
"And your family is well. I hope?"
"Ye's my poor wife's been dead some time now,
but me daughters are getting on very well."
"A man with children is well off, if he can keep
them properly and prevent them having to knock
about from pillar to p-st," commented Mr. Burrell.
"That is what you can do. That is what Vincent







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Phone 2718.






can do too. But you know the old saying: *father
have. mother have; blessed be the child that have
Its own.' "
"Yes." replied Mr Scrulield. somewhat puzzled as
to the present application of this uld saw.
"That's where the benefit of a uncle like me
comes in." calmly continued Mr. Burrell. "Myrtle
will be all right in the future, for she will 'ave her
own. She won't be dependent upon what her father
have or her mother; she will be blessed. She will
even be independent of her husband quite indepen-
dent. And I hope that when me niece married she
will marry good."
"No fear about that." laughed Myrtle. interrupt-
ing her talk with Mr. Crisman to add a few words
to her uncles conversation. "But. you must remem-
ber. Uncle Bill. that what yo;u have belongs to you.
not to me. so I am not better off because you are
rich aren't you rich. L'ncle?"
"Well. I wouldn't call meself rich." mumbled
Mr. Burrell "I am just so-so"
Mr. Crisman smiled. He knew his boss. He
hsJ long ago perceived how much Mr. Burrell Ikved
to be spoken off as a man of wealth. Not that that
gentleman ever lightly gave away or spent any money.
carefulness was a gospel with him. which was prob-
ably one season why he had amassed a fair pro-
portion of this world's goods. But he loved it to
be thought and known that he was more than com-
fortably off. and now and then Crisman gratified
the older man's vanity by stressing his superior fi-
nancial position.
"MAr. liurrell." said Crisman deliberately. 'is
the Mandeville Produce Export Company you ever
heard of it. Mr Scrofield"'
"What'" exclaimed Scrofield. once again filled
with awe not unmixed with envy. "but that is a
big thing I thought it was a company "
"So it Is- a private company." remarked Mr
Crisman. while Mr Burrell lolled back in his chair
and smiled complacently "Mr Burrell started It
in Manchester some years ago and owns practically
all of it. I have one share, and some other people
have a share each you can't have a ccirpany you
know. without a few shareholders." he explained to
Myrtle. who already was well aware of that "It
began small. it is now big Thai a the surt of man
Mi Burrell is."
"Nonsense. J,-, slt iildness." laughed Mr Bur
tell. hii srt-elly felt that what Joe hal said was
thie iitlnlltesie f w isdi it "I tiy time hand at a
few tlilHgs ind If one i twii i.f t heii sluc'eed. well.
I ate thankful .\ man like .Mr Scrofield. now. can
beat iile iiny dau hle like. especially as lie live in
Kingslon "
But 1 M. Scmillel-d did not think st. any more
than Mi Iliirrell did 'I he lMandeville Company
nientioniiedl niii, by this. lie cal'lulaled. have made
al least twenty ihthnisnld p lnllds iind was still a
growiiig concern And it Imelonged oI one man, the
man uhl sat near hinll alnd whomll no stranger would
suspect of earning mire than four pounds a week at
most Mit Srinfleild allowed his imuRgination the
wildest flights at the moment. the seven or eight
thousand pounds which he had accumulated in the
course of years seemed nothing compared with the

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wealth of this great man. And this great man spoke
of Myrtle as though he proposed to make her his
heiress. Into the Scrofleld mind there flashed the
question, what had he, Harry Scrofield. actually in-
tended and wished to make of Myrtle?
When he had given her some expensive presents
yesterday, what, in spite of all his pretence to him-
self, had he hoped for eventually in return? She
had asked him for a car; he had practically refused;
yet he knew in his heart that some day he would
give her one, should she insist, and he suspected
that she too was perfectly certain of this. But had
he in all this determination to be unusually gen-
erous meant nothing whatever beyond an expression
of platonic friendship? As he saw Joe Crisman
monopolising Myrtle's attention at this moment he
realized that platonic friendship the thing itself,
for he did not know the descriptive word -was all
folly in so far as his feeling towards Myrtle was
concerned. He had wanted the girl. had secretly be
lived that he would get her if he persisted, was
convinced that he and she could be "friends" with-
out her parents knowing anything about it. But
all that was of yesterday, when, compared with him,
Myrtle was in reality poor. Today there was
this rich uncle who alluded to her in a protective



fashion, and who looked like a man to be reckoned
with. This complicated the situation immensely.
Mr. Scrofield suddenly felt that he hated Mr.
Burrell. while also envying him. with a poignant in-
tensity Amongst other misdeeds, Mr. Burrell had
with a few words abruptly deposed him from the
proud position of being the immeasurably most weal.
thy man that had ever entered Vincent Broglie's
house. Mr. Scrofleld would have given something to
discover that this man was an impostor. Unhappily.
there was no reason whatever to hope that he would
prove to be one.
Myrtle was speaking, looking directly at her
uncle. "Father have, mother have," she quoted,
"'blessed be the child that have its own.' True: but
till the child have its own it can't be blessed. So I
must buy my own little car."
"That," said Mr. Burrell calmly, "will make'you
value it all the better." He had fixed keen eyes on
Myrtle's face. She did not move a muscle.
"I am aware of that" she answered calmly.
"But you will want a deposit," Mr. Burrell con-
tinued; "say fifty pounds. It's no use having a
uncle if he can't make you a little present. I are
going to give you the deposit for the car to-morrow.








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For answer, Myrtle rushed up to him, bent
down, and kissed him warmly on the forehead.
"I never yet met a man like you!" she breathed.
"And an extra ten pounds for you to buy a
couple of dresses," added Mr. Burrell with a lilt in
his voice. He laughed joyously: "It's time enough I
begin to do something for me niece."
He rose to go, pleased with himself, bubbling
over with affection for this girl whom he was com-
ing to regard as a daughter. He had promised her -
he who gave away little a handsome gift of
money, and he was delighted at this, though he well
knew that she had put the idea into his head. She
would receive the cheque to-morrow; indeed, he
would send it to the house this evening. Mr. Scro-
field now would understand that James Burrell was
no mere braggart, If, Indeed, Mr. Scrofield had ever
dared to imagine that. The man was after Myrtle:
that was plain enough. Well, he wasn't wanted.
What would a girl with her expectations do with
a man nearly fifty years of age? Myrtle must find
a husband worthy of her prospective wealth.
He went off, happy, to his lodging house, with
his young assistant, and then Mr. Scrofleld also
took his leave. "I'll come for you this evening,
Myrtle." he said, and was relieved when she answer-
ed: "All right, Harry."
She followed him to the gate.

"I want that car as soon as possible," she whis-
pered. "Look and see if you haven't a nice, small
car in your garage now, Harry." ,
"Well he conceded. "I may be able to find one:
I don't know. If you pay fifty or sixty pounds as a
"I'm not paying you a cent," she rapped. "and
you know it. Lord! why are you so cheap? You mean
to say that you don't want to give me a little car?
What is that to a man like you?'
"But your uncle just promise to give you sixty
pounds." he urged. "I can give you a car worth two
hundred pounds at half price: you can't want more
than that."
"Either you give me the car by yourself alone,
or you don't." she retorted. "You can make up your
mind. You're not seeing one penny of the money my
uncle gives me. And if you want to be friends with
me, you must stop being mean."
On that note she left him and went back into
the house. As he drove home he wondered what she
had meant by those words, "if you want to be friends
with me." They might mean much or little; with
so much money in prospect, why should she want to
be "friendly" with him? But perhaps she meant
only ordinary friendship. To that he felt, her
uncle could not object. But if he did object-well.
let him. Myrtle had lived without him up to
now. .. But surely Myrtle would only defy her

uncle's wishes if she loved a man to whom her uncle
objected; and though he, Harry Scrofield, was vain
enough he was not at all certain that Myrtle would
be ready to defy money for him. Would he himself
do so? Was he not even now impressed greatly by
Mr. Burrell's wealth, and did not that wealth alter
.Mylrthis position, even though her uncle was a man
of no social status to speak of? Harry thought
too highly of money not to recognize in it a god
to be dutifully worshipped in the persons of those
who possessed it. And because Myrtle was the niece
of Money she rose in Hlarry's estimation with every
revolution of his car wheels as he drove homeward.
The next day three things happened.
Mr. Burrell bought two trucks, for cash, from
Mr. Scrofleld.
Myrtle obtained from the same garage a car of
her own.
.Myrtle lodged sixty pounds to her credit in the
bank where, unknown to her parents, she already
had some money saved.
For she too loved money and the things that it
could buy. Something. some passion for possessions
and achievement, inherited by her mother and uncle
had been inherited by her also. And the more she
got the more she craved.

MRS. BLACKHEATH was one of Myrtle's friends;
she was a young married woman whose hus-
band held an accountancy position that brought him
a good salary; she was decided in character, good-
looking, lively in temperament, and twenty-seven
years of age. Myrtle liked her, in spite of the clash
of temperament that occurred between her and Nel-
lie Blackheath now and then. She would often go
round to Mrs. Blackheath's house, although the latter
hardly ever visited her.
"You would only meet old fogies round at my
place. Nellie," Myrtle had more than once said to
Mrs. Blackheath. "and though you would be welcome.
yoe and my other friends would have a dull time
of it."
With this view Nellie Blackheath heartily
agreed, and so did those others who formed Myrtle's
intimate circle. They were all young people. they
preferred to meet where they would be under no ob-
ligation to pay deference to the opinions and sub-


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scribe to the habits of those who had so far forgot-
ten the days of their own youth that they were in-
clined to regard the younger generation as an in-
soluble problem.
This Saturday afternoon there were, in addi-
tion to Nellie Blackheath. four guests, and one of
these was Lottle Moyne. Lottle was about twenty-
five. fair of complexion, distinctly pretty, and as a
rule of a vivacious and even saucy disposition But
this afternoon she was patently depressed. Already
her friends had rallied her about this.
They had been coming for the last quarter of an
hour. Myrtle was also expected. But Myrtle did not
make a virtue of punctuality. She always said it
was Ihelltr to keep others waiting than to be kept
wailing Iy them.
But now she came, in her new car, rolling up to
the front gate of the Blackheath residence as if she
were taking part in a triumphal procession. Charles
drove her on this occasion, for in her mind was the
desire tI. make an impression. Nellie and the others
had not yet seen her car. They should see it with
chauffeur driving and horn tooting, and in her heart
Myrtle wished that Charles had a regular uniform
Instead of a preposterous blue suit.
liHering the horn, the company tripped out to
the gate to inspect and admire the vehicle. "Fine."
excliinined Nellie. "who gave it to you. Myrtle?"
'-;.i it to me? I liiught it meself. At least, I
got part of the money from me uncle, and I will get
the rest from him."
"*'onme inside," said Mrs. Blackheath. "the car
can remain out here."
Mv rile ran inside with the rest, kissed them
all. and declared how glad she was to see them
after all these weeks. As the house fronted the east,
the sun was now well westward, hence the verandah
was the most comfortable place in the house in which
to sit formally. But formality was distasteful to
these young women, and now that Myrtle had ar-
rived no one else was expected.
"Corne into the bedroom and make yourself com-
fortable." suggested Nellie Blackheath to her guests.
"Lottie'd better lie down on the bed; she doesn't look
well. And she won't tell us what's the matter with
her "
"What's the matter, Lottie?" asked Myrtle,'as
they went inside, but did not wait for an answer.
She turned instead to answer the query of a girl
who was curious, and more than doubtful, about the
ancle who had so suddenly appeared In Myrtle's
life. bringing cars as presents. The others were more
than doubtful too. They looked upon Myrtle's ex-
planation as apocryphal. Myrtle sensed and en-
joyed this atmosphere of suspicion. She knew she
could dissipate it victoriously by producing, as It
were. an authentic Mr. Bill Burrell at any time.
Lottle had already taken off her hat; she now
threw herself on the bed, as suggested by Mrs. Black-
heath, a rather petite and well-formed figure. with
eyes now haunted by what looked like apprehension
and even terror. There was a large couch in the
room. three of the others seated themselves on that.
In the two rocking-chairs in the fairly spacious
apartment Nellie and Myrtle sat.
They had met that afternoon to discuss a dance
to whirh they all proposed to go, a dance which was
being given by one of their married girl-friends in
spite of the sultry weather. It was what each would
wear that would, presumably, form the chief topic
of the conversation; but each one of them would, in
describing her attire, endeavour to keep tack some
piece of information. This would enable her to ap-
pear at the function with something about her of
the nature of a surprise.
But first of all:
"Who is this uncle of yours, Myrtle?" asked Nel-
lie curiously. "Is he young? Is he sparking you?"
At this they all laughed.
"Perhaps." interrupted Lottie dully, "he is old
enough to be Myrtle's father, and he has plenty of
other nieces."
"Hlear my trial!" laughed Myrtle gaily "I see
you girls don't believe me. Well, listen to this.
"My mother had a single brother, and she never
saw him since I was a little baby in arms. When he
called to see us twenty years ago, he had just
come back from Panama. He had gone there when
a young man, and he worked hard and made some
money, an' not being a fool he kept it. Then he
went to Manchester and set out to work harder than
ever before and he got on well. Today he is a rich
man. and only last Sunday he drove up suddenly to
the house and made himself known. Boy! wasn't
he proud of me! Before he went away he promised
me sixty pounds, fifty for me to pay the deposit on
the car I, or rather he, will pay the balance of
the Instalments, though he don't know yet that it is
he that is going to pay them and the other ten
pounds was for any dresses I choose to buy. He
sent me the money that evening, so that next day
I got the car, and the following day at lunch time
you should see me buying some pretty things at
the stores! This is one of them" she Indicated
the dress she was wearing. "It came from America
and cost two pounds ten."
"Lord. you lucky!" exclaimed Mrs. Blackheath,

inclined now to accept Myrtle's avuncular story;
"and you say he's rich?"
"Rich! You should see the respect Mr. Scrofleld
showed him!"
At the mention of the name Lottle sat up in
the bed with a jerk and stared at Myrtle Nellie
Blackheath's eyebrows went up. Mrs. Brown. the
other married woman In the room, glanced signifi-
cantly at Nellie, then rapidly at both Myrtle and
Lottie. Myrtle at once perceived that something was
wrong, or at least that something needed explana-
tion. The two other girls, evidently not aware of
what was in the minds of Mrs. Blackheath. Mrs.
Brown and Lottie, nevertheless felt the tension that
had swiftly intervened. There was a moment's si-
lence. "Mr. Scrofleld was at your house on Sunday.
Myrtle'" Lottie asked.
"Yes. why"
"Nothing. How long do you know him?"
'Only some weeks now. He isn't a bad fellow: a
big shot sort of a man, but mean."
"How do you know he's mean?"
"I don't know it; I only guess it." answered
Myrtle impatiently. "but why you asking all these
Both Lottie Moyne and Mrs. Blackheath knew

Myrtle enough to feel almost sure that if she had got
the car from Mr. Scrofleld she would have been in-
clined to boast, if even covertly. of it. Her vanity
would have impelled her, they argued, to hint at
how she had been able to extract such a handsome
present from a big-shot gentleman Her answers,
therefore, caused a look of relief to sweep over Lot-
tie's face; but suspicion still lingered in Mrs. Black-
heath's mind. Perhaps, she thought swiftly, Mr.
Scrofleld did not wish it to be known that he had
given a car to Myrtle. who was therefore respecting
his injunctions as to silence. Yet there was that
story of Uncle Burrell. That sounded true.
Well. Mrs. Blackheath said to herself, the mat-
ter was none of her business. But she wondered
whether Myrtle knew how very friendly had been
Lottie and Mr. Scrofteld for quite a little time.
"It's some weeks since I saw you last, Myrtle'
she said, "so of course all you're telling me now is
new. I don't know Mr. Scrofield myself but Lottie
here knows him quite well. In fact, they are friends."
"Hullo!" cried .Myrtle. "well, I hope Lottie
won't think I am trying to cut her out. But I never
see him with her. ..."
"We used to go out together sometimes," said
(Continued on Page 35)





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Lottie. slowly: "we went for a lot of drives togeth-
This question came sharply from Mrs. Brown.
She was the oldest of the group, though not yet
thirty. She was of Lottle's complexion, and inclined
to be sharp-featured. Her eyes were shrewd.
"Hockfort and further; Spanish Town and Old
Harbour: over Stiny Hill and up to Hope all
about "
"And you mean to say he don't take you there
again'' demanded Myrtle.
"Yes. I only saw him once in the last three
weeks, and he never said a ,word that he knew you.
I suppose he's making love to you as he used to
do to me "
"Here's crosses!" exclaimed Myrtle: "hut, my
dear Lotllie. while it is every man for himself and God
for us all in this world, I wouldn't have bothered
with .Mr. Scrofleld if I had known he was a friend
of yours.
"Your uncle hadn't come up to Kingston yet."
laughed Mrs. Brown, "so you can't be sure what you
would have done, me dear. Still," she added quickly
and diplomatically, "you are the last one to try and
take away another girl's boy-friend."
"You can have him back whenever you like,"
protested Myrtle. addressing herself to Lottie; "but
if a man don't want to go back to a girl, nothing you
can say to him will force him."
"True," murmured Nellie Blackheath; then. to
everyone's surprise, Lottie began to sob.
She buried her head in the pillow, and her sobs
were audible. Her body shook under the influence
of her emint ion; she seemed stricken with bitter grief.
The other young women sprang to their feet and
hastened towards her. "Don't be a fool, Lottie!"
cried one of the girls, who was addressed as Mirrie:
"an old fellow like that isn't worth bothering your
head about. You are young and pretty, an' there is
as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it."
But the sobbing did not cease, and over the faces
of NMrs Brown and Mrs. Blackheath there stole an
expression of wisdom mingled with pity and with
SIet oI.tlie cry if she wants to," suggested Nel-
lie Bla kheath quietly. "It will do her good."
"'1 ~otildn't cry," retorted Myrtle. "if a man
il.s -ii. 'ting me and then suddenly gave me up for
sonehlody else. I would either scorn him and send
him in the devil, or fight the other girl for him it I
loved him Only, in this case, as I don't love Mr.
Scrofltld. and don't care whether he love me or not,
there is n1, need for any fight. Lottie can have him
"H.t doesn't want to come back." sobbed Lottie.
"I write to him several times, and he never comes to
see me gain. and when I go down to his place of
business lie is always too busy to give me a moment.
I knera he %as going after some other girl, but I
didn't K'.t to know who it was until you just told
"\\Well I am going to have nothing more to do
with him." said .Myrtle decisively "and as for you,
I advise you to put him out of your mind."
"I can't. I can't."
*"YIui say so now, but a few months' time-"
"It will be worse a few months' time," gasped
out Lottie.
A blank silence fell on everyone, though Mrs.
Blackheath and Mrs. Brown were not surprised.
Their suspicions were verified, that was all.
"My (;od."' at length exclaimed Mirrie.
"Yo' may as well say 'my God.'" agreed Lottie
mirerahlv "I don't know what I am going to do."
S"DItIin'i w:rry too much," whispered Nellie Black-
heath. "'we will all help you. We are friends, and
friends must stick to one another."
"And not talk," said Mrs. Brown emiphaticallv,
glancing at the others. "We mustn't go about an'
talk about I.ttie, for that will only do her harm.
And we can't only say we're going to help her; we
must see what we can do."
"Thank you, Ann," Lottie moaned; "but none of
you can do anything."
"But what sort of a man can he be," cried Mrs.
Blackheath angrily. "to let a girl get in trouble when
It Is so easy to prevent that in these days. He
must either be a fool or he don't care."
"It's my fault," confessed Lottie, "I didn't do
anything he told me."
*"You can defend him if you like, Lottie, but
the chief fault is his," said her married friend.
"Does he know?"
"Yes, in a way; but not for certain. I wouldn't
write it, and I haven't seen him since I was sure."
"Well. you'll have to see him now."
"And suppose he won't see me?"
"He must," broke in Myrtle. "You can leave
that to me You think he will marry you?"
"Not a chance." whimpered Lottie.
"Then you have been a fool," cried Myrtle un-
ceremoniously. "I am surprised at you, Lottie, let-

ting a man fool you up like this. You think any
man could fool me up?"
"How can you tell?" rejoined Lottie sadly, yet
now that she had taken her friends into her confi-
dence, and they all seemed disposed and even deter-
mined to help her, hope and courage were creeping
into her heart again. Strangely enough, although
Myrtle was her rival for Mr. Scrofield's affections.
she felt some confidence in that young lady's ability
to help her. She knew that as matters stood she
could do nothing against Myrtle. while Myrtle might
be able to aid her if she really did not, as she said,
care anything about Harry Scrofield.
"If he won't marry you," observed Mrs. Brown,
"because he thinks he is so great, at any rate he
shouldn't let any open disgrace come upon you. You
can go to Cuba or Panama, you know, to see a doc-
tor quietly. And when you come back. not a soul
except the few of us will know anything. If any of
us talk, we are only a set of traitors that's all. But
we won't talk."
"And it is little enough for Mr. Scrofield to pay
the cost," said Nellie Blackbeath. "'though some men
don't care what happens to a decent girl after they
have done with her."
"For the matter of that," said Myrtle. "even it
he is too mean to fnd the money, we would have to
do it. I will give Lottie ten pounds."
This astonishing piece of generosity moved the
others to admiration not unmixed with envy; but
there came a look of caution into their faces also.
Ten pounds. That seemed a colossal sum for one
young woman to give.
"You must remember, Myrtle." said Mrs. Black-
heath, "that even those of us who are married can't
put our hands upon five pounds at once with-
out difficulty: we don't have any rich uncle."
"But you will do your best, won't you?"
"Yes; we will all do that; but who is going to
speak to Mr. Scrofield? It will have to be Lottle.
She is the only one who can do it."
"But it he won't talk to me?" snapped Lottie.
who was now sitting up with a surprising resilience
of spirit. Backed by such friends, she felt, her ob-
vious difficulties might soon be overcome.
"Nonsense," exclaimed Myrtle, "he must talk
to you. But if you are too afraid to talk to him, I
will do it."
"You?" cried Nellie Blackheath incredulously.
"But how can a young unmarried girl like you talk
to him about sending Lottie away to be looked after?
If he was engaged to you, now, and you told him
you knew about Lottie and that he must do some-
thing for her or you won't have nothing more to do
with him. I could understand. But you say you are
only ordinary friends ."
As she spoke Nellie's eyes were centred on
Myrtle's face. Had 'Myrtle told them everything
about herself and Mr. Scrofleld?
"What I have told you is the God's truth,"
asseverated Myrtle. suspecting what was passing
through Nellie's mind. "He is ntthlng to me, noth-
ing at all. But I don't see that that is any reason
why I shouldn't speak to him about Lottie. I have
only to think out how to do it."
"Better you than me. my dear," laughed Mirrle
"but whether he is a big man or a small one. he
ought to marry Lottie. I long to go to a nice wed-
"A wedding would be fine," agreed Mrs. Brown.
"I would like to go to one shortly myself. But it
requires two persons to make a wedding, and it's not
possible for 31yrile to ask Mr. Scrofleld to marry
Lottie. That would kill all her influence with him."
"'S.re." agreed Myrtle; "but if I can bring Lot-
tie and him together again in some sort of way, she
may be able to do the rest. However, that is not
the trouble now. You say I am to go ahead, Lottie?"
"Yes," eagerly.
"And, Lottie, you mustn't fret in the meantime,"
Mrs. Brown advised. "Just go about as if nothing
has hapilI'ned Don't let anybody suspect."
A confidential note had now crept into their
voices. They felt that they all had something of a
really interesting nature to do, or at any rate to
participate in. One of their group of intimate
friends was in difficulties: they should be able to
save her from what they considered would be the
worst consequences of her indiscretion. Not for a
moment did any of them dream of dropping her, of
turning their backs upon her. Her situation was
unfortunate, it might even be grave. But it was not
one which they regarded as carrying such terrible
moral stigma or taint with it as to warrant their
desertion of her. A friend must bear a friend's in-
firmities. That was how they looked at the matter.
"I suppose," Lottle ventured, with a pang of
jealousy in her heart, "that Harry got to be friend-
ly with Myrtle because he wanted her too; he seems
to be the sort of man that can't be content with one
girl-friend. But most men are like that."
"Wanted me too? For what?"
Myrtle spoke sharply. The others noticed this.
Lottie did not answer.
"He could only want me for a wife," continued
Myrtle hotly, "and I wouldn't want him for a hus-
band. He may be rich, but I will be rich some day
































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myself. And even if I was poor I wouldn't want
him look at him, look at me! But if I am to
help Lottie with him, I can't drup him all of a sud-
den; I hope you all understand that. If nobody trust
me I can't do a thing."
"Go ahead in your own way, dear." said Mrs.
Brown suc.thlngly "You can do more than all the
rest of us put together."
Mrs. Brown at that moment was thinking of ten
pound gifts and wealthy uncles. She was also think-
ing with respect of Myrlle's strong and forthright


MYRTLE possessed an abundance of commonsense.
She also knew, almost instinctively. the dis-
positions of her friends and the manner in which
their minds usually worked. Hence she did not be-
lieve for a moment that Lottie had told her and the
others the whole of the story as to the reason of the
break between her and Mr. Scrofleld. That reason
was not entirely or perhaps chiefly the friendship
that had so suddenly sprung up between Harry Scro-
field and herself.
She lingered behind when the others were say-
ing goodbye. Nellie's husband would probably not
come home before seven that evening, it being his
habit to drop in at what he called his club, a place
of reunion where men met and drank and talked-
wasted their time, in Myrtle's opinion.
When she and Nellie Blackheath were left alone,
Myrtle said to Nellie:
"Well, here's a pretty kettle of fish. You believe
all that Lottle say?"
"No," replied Nellie deliberately; "the man
wasn't going to refuse to see her or to answer her
letters just because he fell in love with you; I think
he would rather try to keep her quiet, for he couldn't
know that she wouldn't make a nasty row."
"'Naturally. So there must have been a big
quarrel between them for some other reason."
"It looks so."
"That and now the other thing makes me
think that Lottie was worrying and tormenting him,"
commented Myrtle. "trying to force him to do
something he didn't want to do. You remember, she
said it was her own fault that she is in trouble?"
"I noticed that at once."
"I suppose she was trying to get him to marry
her, so she went as far as she could. Took all sorts
of risks, and then finds herself in a hole and raises
cain with him about it. And perhaps he didn't be-
lieve her, and so thought the best thing he could
do was to give her the go-by at once. She went too
far with him, you see. Nellie. I suppose she thought
he loved her so much that he couldn't do without
her. But it seems as if it is she who loves him most,
and now she don't know what to do. You think I'm
"It seems so," said Nellie thoughtfully. "and
though Lottie may have thought she is clever, she
is only a big fool. What can she do Scrofield? Not
a thing. If he don't choose to help her, she can't
even say a word, for she don't want everybody to
know what is up. Some girls don't think; but we
promised to help her, and we must. You have the
most to do, Myrtle everything."
"I know," complacently returned Myrtle, "but I
have to think out what I am going to do. It's easy
to say you're going to do something, but not so easy
to know what it is."
"But something will have to be done," said
Nellie decisively, feeling that she must stand at Lot-
tie's side.
"True. and I will find out what I can do. Didn't
I promise her that? I will tell you about it later...
when I know meself."



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On that note the friends parted, Myrtle wholly
confident of success.
Why was she throwing herself so wholehearted-
ly Into Lottie's business? Because she felt she was
the only one who could seriously assist Lottie, and
that gave her a place of importance in her little
scheme of things Also, she was Lottie's friend, and
wanted no scandal to attach to Lottie's name.
To be able to do what no one else could do, to
be the presiding and beneficent genius in a crisis
that meant so much to a friend and to that friend's
immediate circle, was to occupy a position that any-
one who was ambitious of shining forth and winning
admiration would desire. But to begin her work,
and perhaps complete it, she must have a helper.
To whom could she turn? Who would suit? Like
a flash she fastened upon the one agent who she
knew would perform her bidding.
Mr. Stanley. when he dropped in at Vincent's
house at about noon the following day, did not dream
that fate, or Myrtle, had singled him out to play a
momentous part (as he would consider it) in the
Lottle-Myrile-Scrofleld drama. He had rather been
painfully aware for some time that he counted for
less in the estimation of Myrtle and Miss Emma
than he had ever done before, that neither Mr. Scro-
field nor Myrtle's uncle seemed to think anything of
him, that the knowledge he had painfully acquired
of Myrtle's meetings with Mr. Scrofield was ab.
solutely worthless now. True. he knew what Mr.
Scrofleld s daughters thought and said about Myrtle,
but Miss Emma knew that also. And what was the
use of knowledge if one dared not put it to useful pur-
pose? He could not venture to step in and save
Myrtle from some evil. awful fate: the evil fate
would certainly be his did he dare but to open
his mouth! So he must sit still and watch the world
roll on its dangerous way; what was more, he must
even pretend to see nothing. A hard and bitter lot
for one who wished to be helpful.
He could hardly believe his ears, therefore, when,
on the pretence of showing him some new shrubs
planted in the garden, Myrtle drew him out of the
house three minutes after he had entered it and
whispered to him:
"Mr. Paul, I want you to help me."
"Of course, of course," he murmured, dropping
his voice to a conspiratorial pitch. "Anything I can
do, my dear, anything I can do. What do you want
me to do?"
"I want you to speak to Mr. Scrofield for me."
It suddenly dawned on Mr. Stanley that the job
he was about to be called upon to undertake did not
promise to be at all a pleasant one. Mr. Scrofleld had
given every indication of not thinking much of him.
And if Myrtle wanted him to talk to Mr. Scrofleld on
her account, instead of tackling that gentleman her-
self, the matter must be pretty serious.
"I want you to speak to Mr. Scrofield for me.
He has not been behaving himself at all as a gen-
tleman should; he has been acting oh, terribly."
Mr. Stanley's heart went somewhere down to
the region of his legs, being rapidly en route for his
boots. "What do you mean?" he blurted out.
"Sh-sh! I aon't want papee or mammee to
hear. Don't you think these roses look fine?" she
asked loudly.
"Why, yes." he gasped, not seeing at once the
relation between strict secrecy and the beauty of
roses. "But Mr. Scrofield doesn't want roses, does
"Oh, yes, he does," she replied enigmatically;
"he wants me, for instance."
"And I am to speak to him about that? What
am I to say. Myrtle?" cried Mr. Stanley shrilly. "I
hope I hope you have been careful I have
known your father all my life; I was best man at






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his wedding, you know and Mr. Scrofleld con-
aiders me low company."
Thus the poor gentleman floundered on. not ob-
serving that Myrtle was looking at him with ill-con
cealed amusement.
"It's nothing directly to do with me. Mr. Paul,
and you needn't worry about me: I can look after
myself. Besides. you're making too much noise."
"Of course, of course. I have never doubted
"BBut I can't tell you everything: that wouldn't
be fair to other people. Now about what I want you
to do: you promise me to do it?"
"I haven't heard what it is yet." he pointed out
"Well: If you can't trust me. and wcm't promise
before you hear. you needn't trouble." she retorted
coldly "I really thought 1 could depend on you as
a man who knew me before I was born and who al-
ways says how much he cares for me."
Such an appeal to his manliness and affection
stirred Mr Stanley to heroism. "You know I would
do anything you ask me," he protested. "Speak the
Quietly. slowly, distinctly, site told him what she
wished him to do. The reason for his doing it was
not made plain, hut partly at least he guessed at it.
He nodded every nm.'w and then as she gave him her
Instructions. sometimes repeating her words to Im-
press thelin (it Ills luiiniorIyv. lS e l uli lini hIow he
ilght go aliout the jhb. what should lie IIsI excuse
for demanding an interview with Mir. Srlillf'ld. "You
see, it Isn't anylhiing dimicult I nim ;tasking you to
do." she said at Inst; "bult 3o1 ;ire I lie tAnly pelroii
who can do it."
At this he smiled proudly, for at hie 'moitent
he could see no snags in hllP pithl lile was to
pursue. And he, us she said. would lie lihlping her
as nobody else could help. lie had always known
he was an extraordinary mail. Now lite was
more than ever sure of that.
At lunch a little while nticr Mr. Sianley en-
veloped himself in an atmosphere of mystery. lie
ate, as it were. In the midst of a vast silence created
by himself. answering all r'emnii ks in miuni.,,yllahles
and sipping his rumiand-water with a portentous
gravity which caused Miss Emiima to wander whether
he was sickening fur something.
The next morning found him embarked upon
his mission. tie would carefully dress for it; he
knew that a good appearance Inspired respect.
Hanging in a cupboard in his bedroom was a grey
tweed suit: morning coat, trous 's and waistcoat.

lie had owned it for twenty years, and had worn it
only on state occasions He would wear it now.
With it went a gray beaver with flat crown, not un-
like the kind of hat that Mr. Winston Churchill
affects. There was not another like it in Kingston.
1Mr. Stanley was loath to don it in these days ex-
cret. at funerals; such headgear, he knew, was out
.-f date. But he had nothing else to go with the coat.
lie hoped that the ltit ensemble would be con-
sidered inipressive. lie shuddered at the thought
that it might be regarded as ridiculous.
lie had decided to walk leisurely down to Mr.
Scrolleld's place of business, and as he was an early
I iier lie started out long before Mr. Scrofleld would
Ihe at work. But as has been previously remarked
in the course of this story, Mr. Stanley loved to
bt ill along the city's thoroughfares enjoying
the signs cd activity on all sides of him, the more
so as he was not called upon to be over-active him-
self. lie had never been out of Jamaica. Therefore.
although lie could compare the streets he knew with
the prices lih had read of. his comparisons were all
nwiy. though much to the advantage of his natal
The trnnsverse street, which ran westward un-
til t hticanme an avenue, and through which he had
In pair.s this morning, was alive with people and
tranme. SmIall shops lined it on either hand, with
churches here and there and, on its southern side,
innumerable little reslturants. There were also resi-
dences and talloring establishments, hairdressing
parlours, cablnet-making places and so forth every-
where. 'hlinee. natives of various hues, young and
Ild and middle-aged. were in their accustomed places
waiting with an unquenchable -ptimlism for the cus-
toier's that might or might not come. And the noise
and bustle of the thoroughfare grew steadily in
volume as the minutes passed and the heat grew
ilmi0re oppressive.
Little open carts laden, some with ripening
bananas, others with ripe, golden oranges, were
pushed along by youths who yelled to pedestrians to
get out of the way. and were sworn at in their turn
by motor car drivers who believed in making pro-
gress at forty miles an hour. Tiny contraptions,
earh like a box. were engineered about by other
lads. und on these contraptions were painted invi-
tations to "Stop me and buy one." Mr. Stanley never
stopped any of them. He never bought one. He
would have been shocked at the idea of eating in
the streets. his business was rather to set an ex-
ample in the way of proper behaviour. Of course
it was all right for the proletariat to eat wherever

It liked, provided it had anything to eat. But our
elderly friend felt it would be better to tarve
than to stop any food purveying vehicle and buy
one. Yet he sometimes thought longingly of the
curried patties which some of them contained: the
smell of these suggested that they were tastier by
far than the patties to be procured elsewhere.
It was not yet nine o'clock, and he knew that
Mr. Scrolield would not be down before nine. There-
fore, passing downwards, he walked by the Scrofield
(aurage as far almost as Kingston's waterfront, then
turned and walked leisurely up again. Truth was
that for the last hour or so he had been mustering
up courage for the task he had to do; for though it
had seemed quite easy to him yesterday, and even now
appeared to be in its essence simple, yet his mind was
haunted by the fear that maybe Myrtle had only
told him what she wanted him to believe and had
kept hidden from him the dark implications of the
words and sentences that he was charged to utter.
If that wa so, how might Mr. Scrofleld take
those words and sentences? How was he, Paul Stan-
ley, to know that he might not be delving deep into
the private affairs of a man who might resent this
action on hil part and proceed to punish it with
pains and penalties not to be imagined without a
shudder? The more he thought upon the matter
now, the more he perceived that he had perhaps let
himself in for a dangerous experience. His sincere
willingness. his eagerness to serve Myrtle. might
bring his white hairs in a very unpleasant sort of
sorrow to, well. If not exactly the grave, at least to
some place outside the garage with a thought-terrify-
ing suddenness. And the pavements of Kingston
were hard.
However, at last, as he once more paced by the
Scrofield establishment, he saw its proprietor going
Now for it, he thought.
He entered the garage with a fine assumption of
confidence and was asked by an attendant what
could be done for him.
"Tell Mr. Scrofleld that Mr. Stanley wants to see
him on professional business." he said, and looked
On the message being taken to Mr. Scrofleld, that
worthy wondered what the deuce this man could
pliibsilly want to see him professionally for: what
indeed did he mean by professionally? However:
"tell him to come into my office said Mr. Scrofeld.
"but tell him, too, that I am very busy this morning."
Mr. Stanley entered, and became seated, as bid-
den. He shook hands, he smiled pleasantly: "You



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weren't at the Broglies yesterday, Mr. Sciotleld," he
remarked, by way of a beginning; "I looked for you
at lunch."
Mr. Scrofield eyed him curiously. He simply
could not understand the coat and hat. No man in
his senses, he thought, could possibly get himself up
in such a warm and ridiculous attire on an August
forenoon: evidently this man was not sane. And
coming into a business office to discuss m Ahiig. at
such an hour, denoted that the insane person was
bent upon making himself a nuisance.
"No, sir," was his reply in a rather dry tone;
"I had to go out of town."
"I missed you." said Mr. lSanley. "it Is a
pleasure to meet you at the house of a mutual
This sally met with no comment. There was a
questioning look in Mr. Scr-onflld's eyes, a look of
questioning and impatience.
"If I had seen you yesterday," Mr. Stanley went
on, "I would have had the uoporlunity of interview-
ing you on the subject of motor cars and their popu-
larity in this country. I am thinking of writing a
series of articles on that subject, and I know of no
one who is a greater authority on that subject than
At once Mr. Scrofleld became interested. He
thawed. He smiled. This meant some free pub-
licity, which, as a business man, he could greatly
appreciate. "You have come to the right man, Mr.
Stanley," he agreed heartily. "Anything I can tell
you I will."
"It was only on Saturday that I said the very
same thing to Mr. ,M ione. whom I know very well."
continued Mr. Stanley, "but I think somehow he was
too disturbed to pay much attention to what I was
"Which Moyne?" Mr. Stanley believed that
there was curtness in Mr. Serofleld's way of asking
the question. that his voice held a threat.
"Moyne who lives in the Slepney Road; you
know him, don't you, Mr. Scrofleld?"
"Slightly "
"His daughter is a charming girl," Mr. Stanley
plunged on heavily. "A highly respectable girl, and
Moyne is a man with a position to keep up in this
country, I am very fond of him, Mr. Scrofleld."
"Very fond of him."
"You never hear him speak of me?"
"Can't say I have. Now, you want to talk to me

about motor cars, don't you? W'tll. fire away."
"Of course, of course; but as I know you know
Mr. Moyne, I am sure you know his daughter Lot-
tie also; don't you"''
Here, remembering Myrtle's instructions on this
point, Mr. Sauiilt. stared straight at Mr. Scrofield.
then quickly dropped his eyes, though this last ac-
tion was not included in his Instructions. It seemed
to him, however, that Mr. Scrofield was looking
angry, adand ger in a man of means it might be (x-
cessively dangerous to provoke. Wouldl Mr. Scrofleld
simply order him out or have him brutally thrown
out? He experienced some anxiety on that score.
Yes. I am acquainted with Mr. Moyne's ldamlCh
ter," said Mr. Serof(eld after a i,.rt'cplihl*- pause.
"Did she tell you to come and see me?"
"O dear, no, Mr. Scrofleld! As a matter of fact
I haven't seen her for some time. She isn't at all
well. I hear, not at all well. Nobody seems to know
what is the matter, but her friends are disturbed.
Myrtle. for instance."
"I didn't know that Myitle knows her."
"You haven't known Myrtle for very long." Mr.
Stanley pointed out; "now, I was best man at her
father's wedding. That makes all the difference,
you see."
"Did you come to see me about Lottie M11iynre'
asked Mr. Scrofleld bluntly. A dozen questions were
racing through his brain; he was convinced that
every remark made by Mr. Stanley held a double
meaning, that the car interview mentioned was only
a subterfuge for introducing Iottie's name, that
perhaps Mr. Stanley, having heard something about
him and Lottie, was trying to blackmail or intimi-
date him. And very cleverly too. Did Stanley guess
how fond he really was of Myrtle? That he would
much prefer that she should never hear anything of
the old connection between him and .Lttie? What
indeed did this precise, ridiculously dressed person
know? What was he driving at?
Mr. Stanley had said that Lottie was far from
well. What did that mean? He remembered what
Lottie had said to him on the last occasion they had
met, and how he had laughed at her. Mr. Scrofleld
became a trifle panicky now as he recalled that
scene. What did Mr. Stanley intend to suggest or
imply" What was in his mind?
It seemed to him that this man was swpakli.-
very smugly. His very mop of white hair appeared
cunning. Quite evidently Mr. Stanley was a villain.
"No. I didn't come to see you about Lottie," re-
turned Mr. Stanley with outward ease, but with

much inward periturbation what, he wondered, it
Mr. Scrofleld should discover that he had never in
his life spoken to the lady he so casually and famili-
arly alluded to as Lottie!
"But I :Iihunit I would mention her," he went
on. 'Souimithini: is wrong with her."
Mr. Scrofield making no reply, Mr. Stanley ask-
ed: "shall we have our talk today about motor cars
and their popularity, or shall we put the matter off
until another dl:iy""
"If another day will suit you, that will be more
convenient to me," said Scrofield shortly. "Monday
is always a busy day for me."
"Very well, sir. I will give you a ring some time
this week, and then we can fix a day," said Mr.
Sit:nlh.y, rising quickly. *'GCiod-iim.rniin. Mr. Scro-
t"(;i.ii hvy. Mr. Stanley."
Mr. Stanley did not t \arily run out of the build-
ing, for he was past the age of accelerated movement.
But he certainly got out of it in record time. He
was convinced that he had bearded a lion in his den
and come forth unscathed-a wonderful escape when
you came to think of it. It was quite clear to him
that his words had worried Mr. Scrofleld. But why,
,.\;i, li'" He thought he could guess; what was not
clear was .Myv i. connection with the matter.
Still, he felt that he had been successful. And
perhaps no one else could have succeeded as well as
THAT afternoon Mr. Stanley betook himself to
.Myi tle.s residence for the purpose of relating his
adventures with Mr. Scrofleld in the earlier part of
the day With mysterious signs he intimated to Myr-
tle that he wished to speak to her privately, and she
seized the opportunity of going out into the garden
with him. Here he described what had occurred at
Mr. Scrofleld's establishnimii. and in the course of
his story managed to convey the impression that he
had completely dominated that man of business by
his firmness, his coolness and his utter disregard of
personal consequences. "I was there for half-an-
hour with him, by the chronometer," he said, but
as Myrtle had never heard of a chronometer before,
that expression conveyed no particular meaning to
She nodded her head appreciatively. "Splendid,"
sho remarked. "I was right when I said I don't
know what I should do without you."
(Continued on Page 42)


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(Continued from Page 38)
She did not tell him that Mr. Scrofield had
cancelled that day an appointment he had made
to take her for a drive that night. The moment
she had received his message at her office she knew
that Mr. Stanley must have seen Scrofleld and had
been successful in disturbing his peace of mind.
She guessed that instead of coming to see her tonight
Mr. Scrofleld would endeavour to get into touch with
Lottie, to find out, if possible, the meaning of Mr.


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Stanley's vague suggestions or hints; and at lunch-
time she had rung up Lottie (who worked "down-
town,") to ask her if she had heard from Harry.
Yes, Lottie had; Harry had asked her to meet
him tonight; Harry had said he had forgotten to
answer her last letter and was sorry; Harry had
been very nice. Lottie even went on to suggest that
there now seemed no reason why Myrtle should en-
deavour to get in touch with Harry about her af-
fairs if Myrtle had not yet done anything in
the matter. Had she? Myrtle answered no, while
she thought to herself: "Yes; Miss Lottie getting
ungrateful already. I wonder how she can think
that Scrofield would have rung her up if I hadn't
done something? But they are all alike: the mo-
ment you help them they want to pretend that you
have done nothing, and they try to get you to leave
their business alone." But she continued to talk very
sweetly to Lottie.
She knew her friends would understand that it
was she who had pulled the wires to bring Mr. Scro-
field and Lottie together again in some sort of fash-
ion. And when all was over, when Lottie returned
safe and sound from whatever country she might
visit for private and particular reasons, she, Myr-
tle, could always inform her of what had been done
for her by the only friend who could possibly have
helped her. Myrtle did not believe in any perma-
nent obscuring of one's light under a bushel. She
believed in flares and beacons of information on the
proper and propitious occasion.
She had done some more telephoning that day,
too. Mr. Crisman had asked her on the previous
Saturday whether he could bring round a friend of
his to see her on Monday evening: having promised
Mr. Scrofleld to go out with him at about that same
time, she had been obliged to put Mr. Crisman off.
But as soon as Mr. Scrofield released her she
had rung Crisman up and told him that, if he and
his friend had made no other arrangement, they
might come round to the house that night. Joe
Crisman had promptly accepted this invitation.
"Splendid, Mr. Paul," purred Myrtle; "you are
as good as gold. Where are you going this evening?"
"I thought I would spend an hour or two here,"
said Mr. Stanley. "I love these semi-rural surround-
"And we are always glad to have you," replied
Myrtle with deceptive insincerity; "but it is only
fair I should tell you who are coming here tonight."
"Yes? Who is it?"
"Mr. Crisman."

"Nice young man A man with a future I
think highly of him."
"And Mr. Dawscn "
"Who is he?"
"Mr. Crisman told me he is Mr. Scrofleld's chief
assistant. I met him when I went to Scrofleld's ;ar-
age the other day toj bIy a var. an' it seems that
he knows Joe and has asked Jce to bring him here.
I don't kniow itf .vL -Ar.nild like to meet him tonight.
as it was only this m .rning you were round at Mr.
Scrofleld's I thought I would give you a hint "
"Thanks. my dear.- There is no reason in the
world why I should not meet Mr. Dawson what
is his Christian name?"
"He has the same name as the editor of the Lon-
don Times. I should not therefore be surprised to
find that hie was a young man of -uperit- intelli-
gence," said Mr. Stanley with heavy humour. "I saw
him this morning, he heard what I had to 'ay
to Mr. Scrofield. Happily. I spoke with restraint."
"Then you will stay here to meet him tonight?"
enquired Myrtle, with a scarcely audible note of an-
noyance 1ii her vnicre
"Do yu think ihat, in the circumstances, it
would be wise""'' r Stanley enquired. striving to
speak casually "It might look as though you were
connected with my visit of this morning to Mr
Scrofleld; the subject of motor vehicles might be
brought up. and and all that sort of thing. I
would prefer. you know. my dear. in view of all
this, not to be here on the first occasion of that
young man's visit That is. if you would excuse
Myrtle locked relieved. She certainly did not
want to have Mr Stanley on her hands that even-
"Well." qhe rapidly agreed. "if you would pre-
fer not to he here. that will be all right. You know
best, and I am sure you are right.'
Mr. Stanley was also very sure that he was
right. He wanted to be as little prominent in this
peculiar Ser.r,-ield Iusiness as he could possibly be,
after havinrc blut ri'eci:tly taken so personal a part
in it. H- left u!rhin rtn minutes
As for I :tie. she was awaiting Mr. Scrofield. a
couple of hours after this conversation between Mlyr-
tle and Mr. Sranley. with feverish delight and ap-
prehension Lottie was selfish. vain. and quite in-
capable of any real gratitude towards those who
helped htir. But 'he possessed .i certain eift of
pertinaciiy also. and a great (aparity for disliking




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thllcs whom she imagined were standing in her
way. She knew now that it was Myrtle who.
had attracted Harry Scrofleld, and she had
brought herself to believe that Myrtle had done this
on purpose. having heard that Harry was her beau.
She believed that Myrtle, having been discovered by
a rich uncle, and having perhaps her eye on one or
two other men, had now no further use for Mr. Scro-
field. which was the reason why Myrtle had decided
to bring him and her together again. But, even so,
not permanently. She remembered quite clearly
that Myrtle had said at Nellie Blackheath's that she
was not prepared to break off all relations with
Harry just now, and that seemed to Lottie a pecu-
liar and suspicious attitude for Myrtle to adopt.
Myrtle wanted, thought Lottie, to have all the men
running after her.
Having come to such a conclusion, Lottie grew
bitter towards Myrtle, and made up her mind to fight
for Harry Scrofield to the fullest extent of her power.
She was genuinely fond of him and had supposed
that he would marry her. He must, he must, she
repeated ti herself fiercely. Let them come together
once more. and she would strive her hardest to
win him to her again. There was an added in-
centive to the efforts she was resolved to make to
get back Harry. That incentive was the putting of
a spoke in the presumptuous wheel of Miss Myrtle
So when Harry Scrofleld called for her that
evening, he found, not a sick and distressed-looking
damsel. but a brightly dressed and animated little
lady. and her father and mother greeted him as
usual. Mr. Moyne not showing that worry and ap-
prehension of which Mr. Stanley had so broadly
hinted. Lottie had told her parents that Mr. Scro-
field was i oming to take her out for a motor car
ride: this was as usual, and they saw nothing wrong
in it. She. of course, had not breathed to them one
word ahiut her predicament. Sufficient to the day
was the good or evil thereof.
Mr. Scrofield was relieved to find the atmosphere
of the lMoyne home so normal, and to Mr. Moyne's
remark that "it seems like years since we saw you
last." lie gave with every appearance of truthfulness
an a( coint of his strenuous labours during the past
few weeks "I've been busy night and day," he ex-
plained. "You know, everybody says that war is com-
ing. and a man in my business has to prepare for
that sort of thing."
Presently seated beside him in his neat two-
seater, he driving with the touch of the expert, Lot-
tie felt elated. She had serious news to give him,
news that he had once before refused to believe. But
this time she would not quarrel with him and so
drive him away. She would deftly appeal to his
manly and chivalrous instincts. She believed that
h,, p,-esessed such instincts, though many of his clos-
est friends had never been able to perceive them.
He was silent, expecting that she would say
something. would hint either that she had previous-
ly been mistaken as to her condition, or that she
was even more certain of it now. She would prob-
ably. he thought, admit that she had been mistaken.
She nas tooe bright and gay for one who had any-
thing' weighing heavily upon her mind.
But ;he remained silent on this matter, only
answering his remarks with a word here and there.
This struck him as unusual in Lottie, who was
rather fond of talking. And in his own mind was
the urie to be certain, to know the best or the
worst at once. In the end it was he who touched
upon the matter that was uppermost in both their
"So you have found out that you were only mak-
ing a fuss about nothing, eh?" he said. "It was just
as I told you."
"And you were wrong, Harry."
He nearly jerked the car into an embankment
as she spoke.
"How do you mean I was wrong?" he demanded;
"w-hat nonnsense are you talking?"
"It isn't any nonsense; what I said is true. But
when I told you, you got vexed, and when I wrote
to \ou. you didn't answer my letter. What made
you come round to see me tonight?"
Her (question struck him. Did it indicate that
she knew nothing about Mr. Stanley, and had Mr.
Stanley meant nothing whatever by his remarks this
morning? He knew that a guilty conscience often
draws inferences from words that apply to something
quite diffe-rent from what the guilty party is think-
ing ahout.
"I wanted to find out how you were getting on.
The last time I saw you you made a row. That is
why I kept myself away," he replied.
"I won't make any more row now, Harry; I will
hear everything myself. But I don't know what I am
going to do."
She spoke plaintively, but with resignation. He
was frightened.
Lottie, after all, he knew, was a very respectable
girl: not one who could be treated as of but little
*conSequence. Even his two daughters spoke well
.of her. It would do him no good for it to be
known that he had got her into trouble and then de-
serted her, and nobody would believe any protesta-

tions of innocence on his part. True, he could not
be compelled to do anything. True, also, that the
family would try to hush the matter up. But how?
And, anyhow, such things had a nasty way of leak-
ing out. He was worried. He was in a jam. Well,
he must try to find the best way out.
"Does anybody else know?" he asked quietly, as
if afraid that the road and the trees on either hand
might hear him. In a similar tone of voice she
"No; I haven't said anything to a soul; but
they're bound to find it out in time."
"Don't say nothing," he urged; "the least said
the soonest mended."
"All right," she promised, "but what am I to
"I will think that out," he said, "if you keep
your mouth shut."
"And suppose I don't, Harry?" she demanded
with a sudden flash of spirit.
"Well, it will be very foolish of you, that's all."
"You mean you wouldn't help me then?"
"I don't say that; but why should you open your
mouth and tell other people what don't concern
"Haven't I promised not to do it?"
"Yes; that's so."

"But what are you going to do?"
"I must think that out."
Lottie grasped two facts. One, that he had no
present intention of offering to marry her; which
was what she wanted him to do. Next, that he would
send her away for a time, and pay all the expenses,
if she suggested that. But she would not suggest it
at once. For that there was still plenty of time.
She would not quarrel with him, not cry upon him.
But she would not let him escape all responsibility
for doing everything he could for her, now that she
needed help.
"This is a hell of a mess," he muttered after a
little pause, and more to himself than to her. "But
there must be some way out of it. Leave everything
to me."
"And 'ou will come and see me as you used to do
"Yes," he promised; for if he didn't she might
talk, and Myrtle would hear. And Myrtle's uncle. He
didn't really believe that Myrtle would care much if
she did hear; She was not a sentimental kind of girl.
But Uncle Burrell? A common man, judged by the
lofty standards of Mr. Scrofleld, but perhaps one who
held old-fashioned views as to the sort of men whom
his niece should mix with. And while his views
(Continued on Page 46)



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(Continued from Page 43)
would not have mattered tuppence if he were poor,
or even in but a moderate financial position, and with
nothing to leave his niece, those views were of the
utmost importance in the existing situation.
Mr. Scrofield, two weeks ago, had not once
thought of marriage with Myrtle. He would have
laughed then at the very idea. But he liked Myrtle's
company, liked her liveliness and today she had a
relative who clearly regarded her as the apple of his
eye, and who was rich. And Mr. Scrofield loved
money even more than he could love any human
being. Why, therefore, he now asked himself square-
ly, should he not marry Myrtle?
He did not realise that this idea of marriage had
been germinating in his mind from the day he had
met Uncle Burrell at the Broglie's; that even if he
had but thought at first of merely being on friendly
terms 'with Myrtle he had been brought to see
her in quite a new light of late. Myrtle had said
to Miss Emma that Harry Scrofleld was in love with
her, while she was not in love with him. He would
have laughed at this had he known it. But while
it is true that Myrtle believed most of the men she
came in contact with were in love, more or less, with
her, in this case she perhaps was wiser than he.
But should Mr. Bill Burrell hear anything about
Lottie, that might be fatal. Lottie must keep silent.
He would go to see her often until something could
be done for her. This something would have to be
done quickly. The whole affair was an accursed
"Do you still like me, Harry?"
Softly the question came from the girl at his
side; in it there was a subtle sort of an appeal.
He felt guilty. He knew that even now he was
deceiving her, that he was acting like a cad. And
she was doing nothing that could justify his losing
his temper and putting the blame for this and for
everything else that had gone before on her.
"Yes," he answered, and in this he was speak-
ing the truth. He did still like her, though he might
not long continue to do so. We soon begin to hate
those whom we-have deeply wronged.
"That's enough for me," she said, "I will do
anything you tell me."
Again there stirred in his heart a feeling of
Idissatisfaction- with himself. He liked her, yet he
was treating her badly.

They were on the journey back to her house
now; when they arrived she said:
"Won't you come in? It isn't late."
"Not tonight," he answered; "but I will drop
round soon again."
"Very well, Harry. And you can depend on me
not to say a word to anybody."
"Especially not to that girl, Myrtle Broglie," he
"Especially not to her, if you say so. Good-
night, Harry, my love."
She disappeared inside the gate. He drove off,
feeling more lousy than ever.


'*' HIS is Mr. Dawson, Miss Broglie." said Mr.
1 Crisman.
"We have met before," smiled Myrtle; "won't
you gentlemen be seated?"
The young men took the chairs indicated; they
were on the verandah, it being much cooler in the
open than inside.
There was no need there for artificial light; the
moon was bright; its radiance illuminated the
avenue, brought into relief the sloping mountain
that fronted Myrtle's house; lit up the garden, made
plain the figures and faces of the trio who sat to-
gether. Mrs. Broglie had decided not to make an
appearance; she knew that these young men had
come especially to see Myrtle, that Mr. Dawson
had been brought round to make her acquaintance.
As for Vincent, as his old friend Paul Stanley had
decided not to stay at the house after supper, he
had gone out with Mr. Stanley and would not be
back before ten o'clock.
It had seemed strange to Myrtle that Mr. Cris-
man should have been the man to suggest bringing
round Mr. Dawson to see her. She had guessed that
her uncle intended to make a match between her and
Joe Crisman, and she had been turning that proposi-
tion over in her mind. Mr. Crisman, too, must assur-
edly know of Mr. Burrell's wish; on his second visit
to the house Mr. Burrell had actually hinted at
something of the sort. Yet it was Crisman who had
arranged, or at least been a party to, the coming of
Mr. Dawson into her life, so to speak. She was
quick-witted. She had concluded that Joseph Cris-
man had his eye on some other girl and ranted to
follow his inclinations without offending his employer.
In a word, it was to be Myrtle herself who
should cross Mr. Burrell's desire, not Joe Crisman.

"I met Miss Broglie the day she came into our
garage to look over the car she bought from us,"
said Mr. Dawson. "Since then I have wanted to make
her acquaintance socially."
"You are very flattering," smiled Myrtle; at
the same time she did not feel too easy in her mind.
This Mr. Dawson had only spoken a few words
to her while she was inspecting the car at the gar-
age; he had had nothing to do with the "sale" of it
to her. But he was Mr. Scrofield's assistant and ac-
countant, so perhaps he would know that the car
had been a present, that she had paid and would
pay no money for it. This was unpleasant, to say
the least. What would he think were her relations
with Mr. Scrofield?
"Mr. Dawson asked me to bring him round,"
she heard Joe Crisman saying, "and I was glad to
do so, though I had another appointment for to-
night. I was glad when you rang me up, Myrtle, to
say that, after all, you would be at home tonight."
Myrtle did some quick thinking. Then made up
her mind.
"Yes," she said, "I had promised Mr. Scrofield
to go out with him, but he rang up to say that he
couldn't come, so I got in touch with you. Mr. Scro-
field is a friend of ours. I look on him almost as
an adopted father."
"He is quite old enough to be the father of young
ladies older than you, Miss Broglie," said Mr. Daw-
son, "and he is a nice sort of man when you know
him. I think he has gone to see another friend of
his tonight, a Miss Moyne, I believe. You know
"Yes, I know her well; but how do you know
that?" asked Myrtle, and her voice was cold.
"Heard a Mr. Stanley say so this morning," re-
plied Mr. Dawson lightly. "Funny old man that.
Came in to see Mr. Scrofield about motor cars, dress-
ed up in a coat and top hat, and left without talking
about cars. Seems to me that all he had to say
was about Miss Moyne and her father, who are
friends of Mr. Scrofield."
"Mr. Stanley is a friend of ours too," remarked
Myrtle quickly, "an old friend. My father says he
is a very clever man. We like him," she added de-
"Then I must like him also," said Mr. Dawson
"Because we do?' queried Myrtle with a laugh.
"This is high politics!" exclaimed Crisman. "I
must tell you, Myrtle, that ever since you went


- --




to his place to buy your car. Geoffrey here has been
plaguing me to brine him round to see you. This
is what I call a conquest. Love at first sight!"
"You're mad'" cried Myrtle. "This is only the
sechna time I've met Mir Dawson. and here you are
talking foolishness NMh Dawson didn't tell you. I
am sure. that lie had fallen in love with me. and,
if he had .aid so. it a nu ld 't lie true."
"*How ldo you know that?" teased Joe Crisman
"I just km-w it. that's all. and you needn't be
a pain. Joe. and make Mr. Dawonu and me feel un-
comfortable. Tell me. how did you come to know
one another""
Br:.th youne men laughed.
"I knew ;Geoffrey years ago." explained Crisman;
"long before I Il-ft Kingston We are -ld friends.
We have no secret firoin one another."
"Except business secrets," added Mr. Dawson
quietly. "Fr that is another matter altogether"
Myrtle felt (i tainn that this was said to assure
her that any tran-actions as to cars that she had
bad with Mr. Sirofield were not known to Mr. Cris.
man. But it also indicated that about such trans-
actions Mri Dawesou knew nitich.
She ioght t,.: have guessed be would, she
thought; she wa- in a business office herself and
she knew that if her employers gave away anything
valuable ther'- .vould have tco be an entry of some
sort in the books about it ery probably Mr. Scro-
feld had entered to himself the car she had got.
Very well. what about it? Surely a friend could
present her with a car?
But if anyvtline had been said about the matter
to Mr. Criisman. and Mr C(risman should mention
it to her uncle. tr.-uble might be expected. For her
uncle had given her Mifty pounds towards the car,
and believed ihat l he had bought it on the instal-
ment rian. It would never do for him tc- know the
Mr D)awson. howevt:r. had evidently not dis-
cus-ed this little transaction with Mr. Crisman; he
had indire.'tly ani as mu.'h S,.., for the present
at alny rate. she was sate.
And why h:d Daw-ton wanted soI munch to know
her '
She loInked at himn r.ritically: his face was dis-
tinct in t'ie moonlight.
He was I.f the same it.liplexion as Mir Crismau.
"fairer" than her lather. He seemed about twenty-
six y.ear.s if age. was g:-ud.looking too. and pleas-
ant. He must be -apable, or he would not be work-
ing with a man like Harry Si.rofield. Mr. Serofield
eni oirlaged no donee. ur incapable persons. In his
business- of that she was certain. Yet he must know,
if he knew about the moto'r car incident, that Mr.
Scrolield was fond of her, he must further under.
stand that anyone who cut in on his boss's preserves
(real rr imagined i was running a risk. Did he
think that she was Harry Scrofield's "friend"
and that he alo., could become her "friend" on the
sly. with Harry kept in the dark about it? Her
gorge rose at the thought. This was damned ims
pudence She n,-uld soon show him where he got
off. Her pride and \anary were wounded, and these
she was not prepared t.i sacrifice even in order to
retain the silent e of lMr. Geoffrey Dawson.
She knew- what she would do. She would pay

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Scrofield sixty pounds tomorrow morning towards
the car; fifty that her uncle had given her, ten
pounds out of her own savings; then, if anything
further were said about the matter, she would show
her uncle the receipt and warn Harry Scrofleld that
his clerk was discussing him and his business with
She felt easier in mind as she came to this de-
cision. She gazed at Mr. Dawson with fighting
"I wonder if you people would excuse me," said
Joe Crisman at that moment. "I put off an appoint-
ment tonight, but I would like to keep it if I can.
I could call back later for you, Geoffrey."
"I can go home by myself, man," laughed Geof-
frey; "I am not two years old."
"But what about you, Myrtle?" queried Joe;
"would you think me rude if I left now? If it
wasn't that I had a little business ."
"Whether it is business or pleasure, Mr. Cris-
man, surely you can do what you like," replied
Myrtle coldly. "I shouldn't have rung you up to-
"Oh, don't put it like that," interjected Crisman,
but' he rose with alacrity nevertheless. Myrtle was
piqued. He obviously wanted to go. She was no at-
traction to him. Yet she would be her uncle's

heiress. Evidently the girl he wanted to see to-
night for of course it was a girl must have a
firm hold upon him. Perhaps she too had money. It
was difficult for Myrtle to believe that any man
would abandon a girl with money or with good pros-
pects of it for any girl with nothing but a pretty
face. But some men, she admitted, were fools.
Crisman left; for a few moments the other two
sat in silence. Then Myrtle asked:
"Do you know the girl Mr. Crisman is in love
with, Mr. Dawson?".
"No," he replied; "he has never told me any-
thing about a girl."
"But he says you know everything about him."
"That's only a figure of speech, though we are
good friends."
"Well, it's some girl he's gone to see."
"It may be, but I can't see how any man could
leave your company for that of any other young
lady. I don't see how that is possible."
"Please talk sense."
"It is sense that I am talking. I mean every
word I say," he replied earnestly.
"0, yes? You forget that you have only seen
me twice."
"That's where you are wrong, Miss Broglie. I
have only met you twice, but I have seen you many

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times. And from the first time I wanted to meet
you. It is a long while now since then."
"Oh. So it is not since I I got the car
from your garage?"
"No." He laughed. "But when you got that
car I was certain that Mr. Scrofield was in love
with you. I used to think he was in love with Lot-
tie Moyne; but I guess he has changed. That old
man, Mr. Stanley, came in to see him about Miss
Moyne this morning: that was plain enough. And
what he said seemed to frighten Mr. Scrofleld. Our
Harry is in love with you, for he isn't naturally a
generous man, yet he gave you a car. But he is
more than twice your age, so ...."
"Does age matter?"
"A lot. Don't you think so?"
She did not answer this question. What Daw-
son had said about wanting to meet her long before
he had spoken to her at Mr. Scrofield's Garage, long
before Joe Crisman had come back to stay in King-
ston, had mollified her attitude towards him.' He
was not just trying to be "fresh," it seemed, and,
indeed, he did not look like a young man who was
"fresh." At least he had not said anything yet to
hurt her pride.
"I like Mr. Scrofleld," she observed casually;
"he gave me the car, as you know, but he doesn't
want a single soul to know a word about that."
"He wouldn't," commented Dawson dryly.
"What do you mean by that?"

"0, yes; you mean something. Anyhow, I am
going to pay him for his car. Youi wait and see."
"But why should you do that, Miss Broglie?
There is no harm in accepting a present from a
gentleman who is a friend. I don't see any harm in
"That's what you say now, because you don't
want to hurt my feelings, Mr. Dawson; but you don't
think much of a girl who will take a big present
from a man. You think that ... "
"0, nothing."
"I know what you have in mind; only you
can't say it. You are wrong, Miss Broglie. I think
nothing of the sort where you are concerned. I have
always admired you, and from the way you have
been talking I know 7 am right in thinking highly
of you. You see, Myrtle can I call you Myrtle?"
"Go ahead."
"Will you call me Geoffrey?"
"We hardly know one another."
"We know one another quite well now. Will
you let me tell you something?"
Her eyes were on his face, her heart beating
rapidly. There was no mistaking the earnestness of
his manner. A quick worker, she thought him; but
she was also conscious of a glow of pleasure, of
triumph; of a feeling of power. She liked a man
who would not dawdle and hesitate where a woman
was concerned; who would go straight to the point.

She imagined herself a sort of movie-picture heroine.
with the hero, whom she hardly knew, already at her
feet. So unconsciously she adopted the language of
the screen, and waited for him to "shoot."
"I love you," he said simply.
"What sort of fun you are making?" she laugh-
ed; but felt at the moment an intense thrill of de-
"I love you. I have been in love with you for
some time. If Joe hadn't brought me round tonight,
I would have found anm.ther way of making your
acquaintance, of telling you what I have just told
you. I think Joe has guessed it; that is perhaps
why he has left us together thb:.ugh he too may
know somebody that he loves."
"But I don't love you, Mr. Dawson; I can't love
a young man I hardly know. Then there is your
employer: he wouldn't be pleased if he heard you
were trying to cut him out. He might sack you."
"Let him. I can always get as good a situa-
"Then there is me. uncle."
"You mean to say, Myrtle, that you would put
your uncle's money before your happiness?"
N'. I don't mean that; but I have told you I
don't love you."
"I would be a fool to expect that you could -
yet. But later on?"
"I don't know."
"As for your uncle, I suppose he wants .you
for Joe. But if Joe is in love with somebody else.
and you don't care for him, your uncle can do noth-
ing. Leave your uncle to me, I can manage him."
"You have a nerve!" laughed Myrtle. "You don't
know me uncle. However, that is neither here nor
there now."
"But I love you; will you try to love me?"
"You talk like a novel, Geoff. But if you want
me to try ...."
He be-nt over suddenly and kissed her. Shf
had not Ite- exipecting that
"You're losing no time," she cried; and he
kissed her again. This time the kiss was returned.
After that thiiy talked in semi-whispers.
He left at about ten o'clock, just as Mr. Broglie
returned, The two men shook hands, after an in-
troduction and a mumbled good-night. Mr. Broglie
noticed his daughter's sparkling eyes, her extra-
ordinary gaiety, her outrush of affection towards
him. She kissed him a tender good-night; she
patted his bald patch, she was singing as she went
to her room.

12 BECKFORD ST. KINGSTON, IA. Telephone 2688.





He knew the symptoms. "She's falling in love,"
he thought. "It must be the young man who has
just left."
But \'incent Broglie had acquired wisdom with
the passing years; he knew better than to question
his daughter. He would learn all about this young
man shortly. Perhaps his friend, Paul Stanley, al-
ready knew something about Mr. Dawson, or could
find our. He nuuld see Paul about it to-morrow.
More and more was Mr. Stanley becoming im-
portant in Myrtle's life and affairs.


ON the following morning, Tuesday, Mr. Burrell
came into Kingston and telephoned his sister
to say that he would come up to the house that even-
ing for supper. At about seven o'clock he and Mr.
Joe Crisman appeared.
That same day Mr. Burrell had sounded Joe on
a marriage between him and Myrtle.
"Of cou'se." Mr. Burrell said, "it all depends on
her. but you are a decent boy, Joe, an' I don't see
as how she can have any objection to you."
'She may care for somebody else," Joe pointed
"Like lio,?"
*You and I wouldn't know that, Mr. Burrell."
Wle wnuild. for there is no necessity for no
secret, and Ahe herself said the other day that she
wasn't engaged Don't you see how it is, Joe? War
looks like it is coming now at any time, and I like
to have all me business settled. I can't think of
a better mat, than you to marry Myrtle. You
should prop,)oe to her."
To this Joe returned no answer; but it did not
seem strange to him that Mr. Burrell should take
for granted that, whatever he wished done, those
persons connected with him should do. That was
Mr. Burrell's way. Joe now wished that he had
taken Geoffrey Dawson to see Myrtle sooner; Geof-
frey. he reflected, could hardly have made any pro-
gress with the girl since but last night. But one
could stall for time, and in the interval much might
happen. Myrtle. too, was a factor to be taken into
account. Mr. Crisman did not see her yielding tame-
ly even to her rich uncle's desires.
Hardly had Mr. Burrell and Joe been made wel-
come that evening by Mr. Broglie, than Mr. Stan-
ley made his appearance. Mr. Stanley had gathered
that day from Vincent that Myrtle was falling in
love with Mr. ;crofield's principal assistant, but he
had already guessed that Mr. Burrell had Joe Cris-
man in mind as Myrtle's suitor. The matter, there-
fore. accordingly stood thus to his thinking: Mr.
Scrotield was out of the running; Myrtle evidently
did not want Mr. Crisman; Mr. Dawson was her
favc.urite. But Scrofleld, if he cared for Myrtle to
the point of offering her marriage and her uncle's
money would make a great difference to him -
would hIe angry at the very thought of a clerk of
his daring to aspire to any girl on whom he had
fixed his choice. And Mr. Burrell would be angry
also if Myrtle definitely preferred Dawson to Cris-
man. So both Myrtle and Dawson would be in
an unpleasant position if any engagement between
them look place. They would offend persons in a
position to do them harm.
But .Mr. Stanley did not care much for either
Mr. Burrell or Mr. Scrofield; neither gentleman had
treated hint %ith the respect which he felt to be his
due. And he did care very much for Myrtle. There-
fore both wc'unded self-esteem and affection for
Myrtle urged him to give her his assistance in this
matter of the heart, if he could possibly assist her.
But could he? How?
He couldn't guess at the moment; but he was
much bucked up by his apparent though not clear-
ly comprehended success with Mr. Scroffeld the day
before. Myrtle had praised him; his self-confidence
was now a hundred per cent greater than it had
ever been: he felt himself an important factor in
this situation Hence when they sat down to sup-
per he at once took charge of the conversation. He
was sure he knew more about this rapidly develop-
ing menace of war than all the rest of then put to-
gether. He was in consequence determined to speak
authoritatively and not to be put down by even
the man of money. That sort of thing had got to
"Germany will invade Poland shortly," he re-
marked. as he eyed the large helping of cold corned
beef that Mrs Broglie was putting in his plate.
Jane mtus-t hav. imagined him to be particularly
hungry this :evning; well, as a matter of fact, he
wa. Jane- na.' a thoughtful woman. He was glad
he had always liked Jane.
"So you think there will be a war, Mr. Stan-
ley'' asked Mr. Burrell with a shade of deference
In his tone. f'or he felt that on this subject Mr. Stan-
ley could peak like a pundit. "I feel sure of that
meself. hut would like your opinion."
"Of ,iurie-. of course," murmured Mr. Stanley,
gratified. "Ye-: there can be no doubt that serious
hoRstlites ar i immediately impending. Hitler means
mischietf. and if he strikes at Poland, England and

France are bound to fight. They have no alter-
"And they will win," observed Myrtle definitely;
"we couldn't lose this war."
"We couldn't," agreed Mr. Stanley; "that would
mean the end of freedom and the destruction of the
British Empire also. And that is unthinkable."
"You believe the war will affect Jamaica?" en-
quired Mr. Burrell a little anxiously.
"It must; we are part of the Empire. But to
what extent it will, is, of course, impossible to say.
Developments will take place. Of one thing, how-
ever, we can be certain: it will not be a short war,
as the Germans suppose."
"How long do you think it will last, Stan?"
asked Mr. Broglie, rather proud that his old friend
should be holding forth so authoritatively on so
vast a subject. Vincent had noticed how, in the re-
cent past, Paul Stanley had seemed to count for lit-
tle in the opinion of Mr. James Burrell.
"At least five years," asseverated Mr. Stanley
with confidence. "Perhaps longer. These, as you
know, are the days of mechanised warfare."
"That is so," said Joe Crisman, more for the
purpose of adding a word to the talk than because
he knew anything about mechanised warfare.
"It is so," returned Mr. Stanley. "Jane, I will

take a little more rum-and-water. It is so, Mr.
Crisman; yes, it is so." Mr. Stanley here drained
his glass once more and felt fortified. His moment
and opportunity had come, and to aid and support
them he sought a little spirituous encouragement.
"But of such a matter as mechanised warfare,
my young friend, Mr. Geoffrey Dawson, who works
at the Scrofield Garage," he continued deliberately,
"would naturally know much more than you. He
knows more about it than I or than any of us here;
he is, indeed, an extraordinary young man. I don't
know another in Kingston with such a grasp of
general affairs. You should make his acquaintance,
Mr. Burrell, if you are interested in the mechanics
of this war."
"But I didn't know you knew Mr. Dawson, Mr.
Paul!" cried Myrtle, while Joe Crisman looked with
some astonishment at Mr. Stanley.
"Of course I know him," lied Mr. Stanley. But
he felt he was lying, once again, in a good cause,
and he was proud of it: besides, he made up his
mind instantly that he would become a personal
friend of Dawson's the very next day. He had seen
the young man at Scrofield's Garage the day be-
fore, so he could not mistake him. And Mr. Burrell
was not likely to ask Dawson whether he was an
old friend of Paul Stanley's or not.




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"Do you know him, Myrtle?" Mr. Stanley en-
quired, being already well aware that she did.
"He was Lere last night."
"Oh, then, he is a friend. I am glad to hear it.
Sdch young men, Mr. Burrell, are not common in
these days. It was different when I was young."
"Well, I don't want to know anything about -
what did you call it? mechanisedasion. It is me
business and how best to fix it up if war should come
that I are thinking of just now," returned Mr. Bur-
rell, "and there Mr. Dawson can be of no use to
me so far as I can see. If war ...."
"Pardon me," Mr. Stanley interrupted firmly.
"You are Jane's brother, and therefore Vincent's
brother-in-law, is not that so?"
"Why, yes."
"That point being conceded, it follows that I
must take an interest in your affairs."
"That is very kind of you," remarked Mr. Bur-
rell dryly; "but I don't see why you should. You
see, Mr. Stanley, I are a man always used to de-
pend upon meself."
S "Of course, of course: Vincent, please replenish
my glass: these are momentous times when it be-
hoves a man to think clearly, and it is well known
that good liquor, moderately imbibed, strengthens
the intellectual power.


"As you have said, Mr. Burrell, you are a man
who has always depended upon himself. I grant you
that without reservation. But not in time of war.
You have never had a great war since you became
Wealthy, so you have never had, as a rich man, to de-
pend upon yourself in time of war, especially mechan-
ised war. Am I right?"
"Well, yes, so far," admitted Mr. Burrell doubt-
"I knew that; which is why, when I saw a while
ago you were disturbed, I ventured to name to you
my young friend, Geoffrey Dawson, who, I may point
out to you, bears the same name as the editor of
the London Times, and may actually be a relation
of his, as a man likely to be of use to you should
you want assistance; and this I did because you are
Jane's brother, and Vincent's brother-in-law, and
therefore, in a manner of speaking, an old friend of
mine; indeed I met you twenty years ago and I was
best man at Vincent's wedding. Do I make myself
"I can't say you do," bluntly asserted Mr. Bur-
rell. "I was thinking you wanted to get this young
man of yours, Mr. Dawson, a job with me."
"But why should I want that, Mr. Burrell? The
young man is well placed and has the refusal of ex-
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man, and his left-hand man also. I have seen him
at the Scrofleld Garage immersed in tomes of figures
and absorbed in the details of business. I have gazed
upon him with admiration not unmixed with that
high respect which one involuntarily pays to genius.
I have looked on him ."
Here Mr. Stanley reached for the rum-bottle, but
met with Jane's firm hand instead. "No, Mr. Stan,"
said Jane decisively, "I think you have enough al-
"Ah, mammee," cried Myrtle, "why shouldn't Mr.
Paul enjoy himself? A man with a brain like his you
don't see every day!"
"Of course, of course," murmured Mr. Stanley,
"but don't mention it, my dear. And, Jane, if you
please, I will have another drink: don't forget that
we are on the verge of war. And I will tell the
editor of the London Times that Mr. Burrell has
said he has no use for his services should those ser-
vices be required at any moment in this epoch of
mechanised war. The loss will be Mr. Burrell's, not
Dawson's. The loss .... the loss ."
"Don't tell him anything of the sort, if you
please," said Mr. Burrell flatly. "I are not above ac-
cepting advice and help from anyone who can do
anything worthwhile." Mr. Burrell was impressed
in spite of himself. Mr. Stanley had suddenly be-
come a dominant character, and of a certainty he
could have nothing to gain by thus offering freely
the services of Mr. Dawson to those who might wish
to make use of them.
Crisman saw his opportunity, and took it.
"I have known Geoffrey since I was a boy," he
observed, "and I think a whole lot of him. Of
course Mr. Stanley knows him better than I do; but
still ... ."
"Exactly, sir; as you rightly say, 'but still.'"
Mr. Stanley was now finding it somewhat difficult to
keep his eyes open; he was experiencing an almost
overwhelming desire to sleep. "But still, but still
.. ." he muttered sleepily. "Through the still
night I hear a trumpet blow, and it is Geoffrey Daw-
son who is blowing it. No, it isn't him, I mean it
isn't he. I would like to lie down a little while, Vin.
I was up all night last night thinking about this
"Take Mr. Stanley to your room, Vin," suggested
Jane quietly; "he don't look too.well."
Mr. Stanley heard her words as though they had
;been spoken far, far away, and felt that he must
rally his wandering faculties.
"All night lash night, and this morning too, I
gave myself over to the war. I am overcome ....
overcome. Lead me to the bed of asphodel and roses
.where I may rest my weary head, until night or
Blucher come."
Vin took him away, knowing, like his wife, that
Mr. Stanley had merely taken a little too much to
drink and anxious that this should not be guessed
at by Mr. Burrell. But Mr. Burrell knew it. Yet
that did not lessen the impression which Mr. Stan-
ley's praise of Mr. Dawson had made on him. Now
that he had placed Crisman in charge of the King-
ston branch of his business, he felt the need of an
active and able assistant in the country, though about
this he had as yet said nothing to anyone. The busi-
ness would need more looking after in days of war
than In normal times; besides, he was not now as
young as he used to be. He wanted help, he craved
for & little leisure, he hankered after seeing more
of Myrtle than he could do just now, and he was
feeling tired. So that if he could obtain the services
of a paragon like Dawson assuming that what had
been said of that young man was partly true some
.of his present difficulties might be solved. And then.
if Myrtle would marry Crisman, all might be well.
in spite of the outbreak of what Mr. Stanley had
described as mechanised war, which was evidently
going to be a war with serious repercussions on the
produce business.
He must see this Dawson; casually of course.
for it would never do for that young man to imagine
that he was a shining pebble on the beach. He
might offer Dawson a job, as a sort of favour. The
salary would have to be somewhat larger than Daw-
son was now receiving of course which, Mr. Bur-
rell thought, was a great pity but it needn't be
very much more. Glorious prospects could be dangled
before the eyes of the young man. Splendid prom-
ises, decidedly vague, could be made to him. If he
succeeded, these promises could be implemented in
part. If he failed, he could be incontinently sacked.
Supper was over; a car drew up at the front
gate. Myrtle hastened out.
Mr. Dawson descended from the car, and Myrtle
quickly whispered to him: "My uncle is here, and
Mr. Stanley has been talking to him about you -
praising you. Mr. Stanley said he is an old friend
of yours; don't deny that, Geoff. Mr. Stanley is a
nice old man, and he wanted to.doyou a good turn."
Then she and Geoffrey went inside, just as the
other folk were issuing on to the verandah, and Mr.
Dawson was introduced to Mr. Burrell.
SMr. Burrell gazed at the young man intently.
Had Dawson expected to find him at this house to-
((ontinued on Page 52)

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(Continued from Page 50)
night? That did not seem probable. But the young
gentleman had been there the night before. So it
was to see Myrtle that he was coming. Mr. Burrell
was sure that he didn't like that: what was Crisman
doing about it? He glanced at his favourite assist-
ant. Mr. Crisman seemed quite satisfied to see Mr.
Dawson a frequent visitor at the house. Mr. Burrell
was not amused.
Still, business was business, and he might have
to do business with this Geoffrey Dawson.
The talk again turned to the war. It was difficult
to keep long away from that absorbing topic now.
But Mr. Dawson did not speak about the mechan-
isation of armies; rather he discussed with Mr. Bur-
rell the prospects of business under war conditions,
and did so very intelligently. Not that he really
wanted to talk about either war or business; he had
come in the hope of seeing Myrtle by herself. But
he knew that he must be nice to Myrtle's uncle, and
he exerted himself to be so. Even suspicious James
Burrell was taken with Geoffrey, but did not fail to
notice that while he monopolised the young man's at-
tention, Joe Crisman did nothing with the chance
thus given him of paying any attentions to Myrtle.
Instead of that, Joe talked to Myrtle's father and
Myrtle had a rather thin time of it. Or appeared to
have. As a matter of fact she was delighted that
Geoffrey and her uncle were getting on so well to-
gether. She blessed Mr. Stanley. She wondered why
she had ever disliked that serious and well-inten-
tioned gentleman.
Then in about an hour's time Mr. Stanley him-
self appeared upon the scene. He had slept, he felt
refreshed, but the effect of his potations still lingered
upon him. Therefore he did not hesitate to go up
to Mr. Dawson and shake him warmly by the hand,
somehow conveying the impression of a regard and
respect that words could not adequately express.
"Tell Mr. Burrell," he suggested to Dawson, "about
mechanised war. He is dying to know about it."
"Not tonight, not tonight," hastily interposed Mr.
Burrell; "in fact I are going to me lodging house
now. It must be ten o'clock, an' in the country we go
to bed early. But if you could drop in to see me for
a bite of dinner tomorrow, Mr. Dawson, I should be
very glad. Maybe we can talk over a little business."
"I will come with him," interjected Mr. Stanley,

who felt just then like a foster-father to Geoff; "Daw-
son's knowledge of mechanised .."
"You can't go, Mr. Paul," interposed Myrtle
quickly; "don't you remember that you promised to
come here, to have supper with us? I would miss
you if you didn't come."
"Of course, of course," said Mr. Stanley, who
knew quite well that Myrtle was not telling the truth,
for some wise though as yet undisclosed reason.
"Well, Mr. Burrell, I hate to have to disappoint you,
but you must excuse me."
"Don't mention it, sir, don't mention it," said
Mr. Burrell quickly; "I shall be glad to see you some
other time. I are always pleased to meet you." With
these words Mr. Burrell made his escape. With him
went Joe Crisman.
"It's not so late," suggested Myrtle, with a glance
at Geoff, and he at once agreed that ten o'clock was
indeed very early.
"Vin, Jane, I have something to say to you both,"
said Mr. Stanley at once; "can you give me a minute?"
He led them into the dining room, and lowered
his voice to a whisper.
"Those young people want to be alone," he ex-
plained; "they are in love with one another. I per-
ceived that the moment I saw them together. In a
manner of speaking, I have brought them together.
Those whom I have joined," he added jocosely, "let
not father or mother put asunder."
"We couldn't venture to interfere," smiled Jane.
"I am retiring homeward now," continued Mr.
Stanley, "but I feel that I have done some useful
work here tonight, and it is the result of calm
thought and determined action. Some people say I
am a fool -"
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Broglie. "They
couldn't be so facety," added Jane.
"But I am wiser than they think. A little night-
cap, and I go: what about it, Jane?"
"If you think you can get home safely after
another drink ."
"Nothing can disturb my brain, Jane, nothing,
be it Jamaica rum or German Hitler. Don't you
think Myrtle is pleased with me?"
"No doubt of that," replied Vincent heartily.
"Then let me depart in peace, for my eyes have
seen the glory of my salvation." He drained his
glass. "I am going through the sidegate," he ex-
plained; "I will not disturb the young lovers."
He shook hands and took his leave. And, ex-
traord;nary but somewhat sad to relate, his voice

was heard singing as he passed down the avenue
the words of a once-popular Jamaica song-
The rose of June is not so sweet
As when two lovers' kisses meet.


M R. SCROFIELD was not easy in his mind.
There was Lottie's case to trouble him; there
was this coming war which might interfere with his
business; there was the certainty of heavy taxation,
which everybody was talking about; there was Myr-
tle. It seemed to him that Mr. Burrell wanted
Joe Crisman to marry his niece, but did Myrtle want
Crisman? Would she not much prefer a man like
him? He would propose to Myrtle, after endeavour-
ing to induce Mr. Burrell to make some sensible fi-
nancial settlement on her which would actually save
him some money eventually. He would see Mr.
Burrell about this as early as possible.
All this he decided on when he got home after
taking Lottie for a drive.
But what about Lottie? He was sorry for her,
he was sorry and alarmed. But, of course, the main
fault had not been his, but hers; he was now pre-
pared, most virtuously, to help her in any way he
reasonably could. She could go to Cuba for atten-
tion, for example; he would pay the expenses. Un-
fortunately, it seemed that he it was who must sug-
gest to her this solution of her difficulties, since she
herself had not even hinted at it. Perhaps she had
not thought of it. Women were not quick-witted:
that was what was wrong with them.
He rang up Mr. Burrell's Kingston office as
soon as he got down to work on Wednesday morning,
and was happy to hear that Mr. Burrell had come
to Kingston only the day before. He made an ap-
pointment to meet him that day, and at eleven
o'clock Mr. Scrofield was ushered into Mr. Burrell's
"What I came to see you about," said Mr. Scro-
field in a confidential tone of voice, "is trucks."
"But I bought two trucks from you only the
other day," Mr. Burrell reminded him.
"I know that; but I want to keep a good cus-
tomer like you Mr. Burrell, and also to save you
money. War is coming. Taxes will go up, and
prices; in another month trucks may cost twenty-five
per cent more than they do today, and some time
after you mayn't get a single one to buy. Have you
thought of that?"
Something in Mr. Burrell's attitude told Mr.


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Strofield that, indeed, Mr. Burrell had been think-
ing of that. which was encouraging. But the elder
man mad- no reply. He wore a suspicious air. The
fact is that Mr. Burrell did not believe in the disin-
terestedness of other people, especially strangers;
lie did not for a moment believe that Mr. Scrofield
had come to see him only in order to save him

Harry Scrofield guessed what was passing in Mr.
Burrell's mind, and went on calmly.
**If you buy another truck or two from me now,"
he said. "that will suit me, for I want all the ready
money today that I can lay me hands on. But it will
suit you too, for you will save on your future pur-
thasesb So we will both benefit if we can make a
deal That's why I came to see you."
"But I have enough trucks to last me quite a
long tiun:." Mr. Burrell answered, satisfied, now that
Mr. Scrofield had admitted that he also stood to
benefit by the suggested deal, that this visit had no
deep and subtle reason in which conclusion he was
"Very well, but think over what I have said,
Mr. Burrell I will keep my offer open for two weeks,
even if the price of trucks goes up in the meantime."
**Thank you," said Mr. Burrell, 'though I don't
think as I will change me mind."
'You can never know," casually remarked Mr.
Scrofield. making as though he were about to rise
and le.iav "As for me, I am taking no chances.
You kInow where I am going from here?"
No. Where?"
"To sr, me lawyer. I am going to make over
to thou-and pounds to each of me daughters: that
will be four thousand pounds. It will leave me
with rfit. enough; besides, the business is mine
and I make a good living out of it. The money I
have is all invested, you see."
**Ye-." said Mr. Burrell thoughtfully; "and of
cou's, f i'u give you' daughters some money now,
the income tax they will each have to pay will be
much les- than if you you'self have to pay tax on
the whole income you get."-
More than that," confided Mr. Scrofield with
an artful air. "Not only income tax is going to go
up, but death duties also. The Government here
may take away any amount in death duties. I may
save a lot by giving me daughters now what I would
leave' them when I am dead. In these times a man
has to think of all these things."
Y,..-u are quite right, me friend," agreed Mr.
Buirrll heartily; "all that a Government look to do
now is to rob those that work hard, to give to those
who won't work. I think you are very sensible.
*'Well." he continued, "if I decide to buy an-
other trnu.k I will let you know. Thank you for
coming round to see me about it."
Mr. Scrofield departed, well satisfied. He knew
he had sewn a good suggestion in the fertile mind
of Mr. Burrell. That gentleman would never have
succeeded as he had done had he not been in the
habit of acting promptly when there was nothing to
gain by delay, and had he not been influenced always
by a desire to save as well as make money. Besides,
what Mr. Scrofeld hAd told Mr. Burrell about his
intentions t.o make a present of money to his daugh-
ters at once, to save income tax and' death duties,
was perfectly true. He knew his girls would not
idly spend the money. In respect of carefulness
financially. they were true children of his.
Afterli e had left, Mr. Burrell sat in thought
for fifteen minutes. Then, his mind definitely made
up. lie rang .up his lawyers and fixed an interview
tor that -iame afternoon. He knew how often he had
benefited by acting on some piece of information
given him by someone to whom he might be talking
casually: and if he followed Mr. Scrofield's example
he ic'uld hloe nothing since he had already made up
his mind that Myrtle should be his heiress.
It was not true that he had no child. There
was a hoy. born before Mr. Burrell had gone to Pa-
naima. lut he was not legitimate and Mr. Burrell had
developed a passion for legitimacy. He himself was
legitimate. Myrtle was; and Myrtle was, as he had
put it. "a spanking young lady." Besides, the boy
was now grown up and had already been decently
provided fir. There was therefore only Myrtle to
consider. And himself.
Hie would give Myrtle five thousand pounds-
share'. in his Manchester business. On his death he
would leave her much more than that. and perhaps
would make her another gift later on; that would
depend upon how high the new taxes now being
talked about were made. He would employ this
young man, Geoffrey Dawson, also, and take him to
Mani-hester that would separate him from Myrtle
Ahile assisting the Manchester business, which did
need a clever young fellow to help look after it.
Crisman would remain in' Kingston, and should see
Myrtle often. If that did not bring about an engage-
ment between them, it would be surprising.
Having thus made his plans, Mr. Burrell felt
grateful to Mr. Scrofield for having put him on a
track likely to be of great all-round advantage. He
was almost inclined to buy another truck from Scro-
field, to show appreciation, though he did not need

one. But be suppressed this impulse immediately:
any such action would be foolish. He even decided
not to let Mr. Scrofield imagine for a moment that
his course of action had in any way been influenced
by what had passed at that morning's interview.
Mr. Scrofield might become swell-headed, and that
was bad for any man, Mr. Burrell concluded.
That afternoon Mr. Scrofield telephoned to Lot.
tie: would she go out driving with him tonight?
Lottie was delighted. This looked as though
Harry were actually coming back to her and want-
ed to be with her often. Her parents also were
pleased: they had noticed Mr, Scrofield's long ab-
sence from their house, had noticed also that Lot-
tie seemed to take it hard, though they had the night
before received Harry Scrofield as if nothing
whatever had happened. But now everything seemed
to be coming right; and though both Mr. and Mrs.
Moyne felt that Harry was rather old for Lot-
tie they knew that it was the young lady's wish that
must prevail, and they did not forget that Harry
had plenty of money and that his daughters main-
tained a fine social position.
It was nine o'clock when Mr. Scrofield called for
Lottie. He apologised for being rather late, and sat
down for a few minutes to talk to Mr. and Mrs.

Moyne. He touched on the now certainly approach-
ing war, Mr, Moyne's reaction to this was to suggest
that marriage was a duty incumbent on all loyal
subjects, since no one could guess what was going
to happen. The connection between war and mar-
riage was not at all clear to Mr. Scrofield, though he
understood very well that Mr. Moyne was suggest-
ing that he should come to the point with Lottie as
soon as possible. This did not diminish his uneasi-
ness. Not only the girl but her parents evidently
had expected that he would marry her. This was
made all the more plain by a remark by Mr. Moyne
that while young men never seemed to be able to
make up their minds, older men knew quite well
what they intended, and could be trusted to act hon-
ourably. Which remark was disconcerting to a man
who had every intention of acting dishonourably.
Lottie was gay as they drove along. The'night
was bright; the air, warm when they sat indoors,
had now as they sped quickly towards the hills a
coolness that was delightfully refreshing. In the
light of the moon the mountains in the distance
could be distinctly seen; the trees in which King-
ston and St. Andrew lie embowered stood out
with a peculiar silvery distinctness, the whole scene
was calculated to exhilarate the spirit to happiness.

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The coming war seemed so like a mere dream, an
evident impossibility, that Lottie thought of it not
at all, while Harry Scrofield had other matters of
more personal importance on his mind at that mo-
Then presently he said something that shattered
Lottie's supreme contentment.
"I've been thinking over what you said to me
last night, Lottie," he remarked slowly, "and I think
the best thing you can do is to go away to get your-
self looked after."
The blood raced through her heart. So it was
to say this that he had come to her tonight! It was
not because, as she had wished to believe, that he
was again in love with her. Well, in her heart of
hearts she had been fearing that he. mght take this
course, even while -ndealouring to persuade her-
self that he would not. What he suggested might
be the only thing to do, but not until she had fought
her battle with every weapon she could think of.
Hadn't it been Myrtle who had said at Nellie Black-
heath's house that she would fight any woman for
the man she loved? Surely that would be right for
her also to do!
But she would act as sensibly now as she had
done last night. Besides, Harry was evidently con-
cerned over her condition. That gave her a hold on
him which, but a few days before, she had not be-
lieved she had.
"You mean I am to go away alone, Harry? In
this wartime, to a place I have never been to be-
fore? What excuse can I give my parents and my
friends? What can I tell them?"
"There is no war yet," he answered impatiently,
"and Cuba is only a stone-throw from here. Surely
you can think out some reasdafor going?"
She shook her head sadly. "You must think
out the reason, Harry; I can't imagine what I would
say. But I suppose I must go."
"It will be the best thing," he assured her, re-
lieved that, on this matter of going to Cuba at any
rate, there was going to be no protest on her part.
"Very well, Harry, if you say so. But I don't
need to go at once?"
"The sooner the better, Lottie."
"Next month then, early?"
"Yes, that will do."
"And am I to go alone, all alone, Harry?"
Mr. Scrofield's heart smote him. Cuba was a
land where they spoke Spanish; how could this girl
go there for even a week without having with her
someone whom she knew? What would she do when

she got there? But to take anyone with her meant
that that person would know why she had gone,
and that person might afterwards talk, and his
name would get mixed up in the business. It was
damnable. Why did troubles fall so hard on the
heads of meritorious people like himself?
"No, you can't go alone," he conceded slowly.
"You will have to get somebody who you can trust
to take the trip with you, and then you can say you
always wanted to see Cuba, and had better do it
now before the war prevent you. I will pay all the
expenses," he added, feeling magnanimous.
"Thank you, Harry. I suppose it is all my fault.
I was a fool."
As he felt that it was all her fault or tried
to feel so he did not comment on this remark.
Her humility, however, was disturbing. Somehow
he would have preferred if she had raged and
stormed a little.
"I see," she observed, apropos of nothing in
particular, "that Myrtle Broglie bought a car from
you. She says her uncle gave her the money. She
is rich now."
He wondered: what did this speech mean exact-
ly? Had it any significance, as he had fancied the
remarks of Mr. Stanley to possess? But at any rate
there was no hint at his having given Myrtle the
car. "How do you know Myrtle Broglie is rich?"
he asked.
"She says so; she is boasting about it. I met
her at Nellie's the other day, and she was talking
about herself a lot, and about you too. She is
changed already."
"Talking about me? But what could she say
about me?" he demanded; "I only know her ordin-
"I know that, Harry, but she seems to think-
you are in love with her and that she can do any-
thing she likes with you. I know better of course,
but I wouldn't argue with Myrtle in these days for
anything. She's too great now, since her uncle find
her out."
"You didn't say anything to her about .
about "
"Of course not: what do you take me for? A
fool? I don't know if she guessed anything, or if
any of me other friends guess it; I can't tell. They
talk as if they believe I have something on my
mind, but how cen I help that? I keep quiet for
your sake and for mine: that's all I can do."
"Go on doing that, Lottie. As for Miss Broglie,

don't say a word to her; in fact I would avoid her
if I was you."
"If you tell me to avoid her, I will. I didn't
like the way she talked about you, just as if you
were nothing. After all, you're better than she is;
even if it is true that she is going to have some
money which I don't believe."
"But what can she say about me?" asked Mr.
Scrofleld, whose curiosity egged him on to probe
"Only that you are old, and that you love her,
-and that she wouldn't even look at you. All sorts of
nonsense. She was only showing off, but I didn't
want to quarrel with her, so I said nothing. Her
father and you are not in the same class, and while
I know your daughters, I am sure they wouldn't
want to know her."
"Don't bother with her," advised Mr. Scrofield,
somewhat angry that Myrtle should have been speak-
ing of him disparagingly. And just after he had
given her a car too. Then a thought flashed across
his brain. Was Lottie speaking the truth? Might
she not have been put up by someone to talk as she
had been doing?
"Do you know a man called Paul Stanley?" he
enquired abruptly.
"I have heard my father speak of him."
Mr. Scrofield swiftly concluded that It was Mr.
Moyne who had sent Mr. Stanley to see him yester-
day; this fitted in perfectly with Mr. Moyne's sug-
gestive remarks that night. So Mr. Moyne was sus-
picious! That made the situation more unpleasant
than ever. But for his own sake as well as for his
daughter's, Mr. Moyne could surely say and do noth-
ing: what indeed could he possibly do? Nevertheless
there was something to worry about, though that
thing was not yet quite clear. Lottie might prove
a snag in the path of a man who felt that he had
meant and meant no harm to anyone but who seemed
to be the victim of malicious circumstances.
Well, he would shortly find out Myrtle's true
feelings towards him; on the whole he was disposed
to believe that they were highly favourable. And
if Myrtle did happen to bear anything about Lottie,
which she might from Mr. Stanley. be could declare
to her that all the fault was on Lottie's side, and
explain to her that Lottie had spoken of her in
terms of distike and contempt. Myrtle would never
forgive -that; he himself experienced righteous in-
dignation as he recalled the words that Lottie had
just uttered about Myrtle. Myrtle was a fine girl,
with far more brains than Lottie. What was more,




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M.1rtle would 4non have mini-y of her own. it Mr.
Burrell acted a atd all sensibly. which he was very like-
ly to d(.. and Myrtle wuild have still more money
vwhmti her u(.le died. atn evetr which Mr. S .uubh. n i'.usly hoped would not be long delayed.
NM rtl- a eirl whose darker hue was more than
(Illntpt. .:ed fitr by intrinsic merit, and ersp.rcially
by casli He nould not talk abuhiut her any more
with Lottie.
The hrightl moonlight. the mountainA. the breeze
wele exhilaratii'.- but jpst no"w he felt pirrof'..udly
deprire-sed On)u thine was certain. Lottie's visit
to Cuba mnist rot he delay.-d a day longer than was
al.solutely inei sar. He said ,o. **I will Eee when
you an l get a ship fi i, SantiaEi.'." he said. "and to-
iiiorrow youl must invite a fri-nid you can tru-t to
go with you. T-ll lher yo'u i ill pay the expeiinss.'.
"Very nell. Harry." L:;tie r>,plied and made
un her mind n.i, to leave for Cuba a day sooner
than it was absolutely n.eieszsary that she must. By
uhich he nimeaunt only when it was apparent that
she had lo10 the fight -he wa- now waging
Everything m:ght depend upon wh.-ther bM.Nrle
had been t peaking the truth in saying that she
cared iuothing for Harry Srofitld and would not
have him were he the last tnau on thii earth. Let
Harry be ,.on\iuned n-i that, and th.n perhaps.
The same was wrth the candle. anyhow.


M R Buirell was a man of a tion: having made
up his mnind on anything. he acted promptly.
That Wedn-sday evening when Geoffrey came
to dine wirh him as invited, he broached the sub-
ject r-f Geoffrey's liei ouing his assistant in Manches-
ter. "It all depends on yourself." said he, "to be-
come a junior partner of mine in less than no time."
"Is Joe Crisuman a partner yet. Mr. Burrell?"
smiled Geotffrey
"N... but I intend to make him one very short-
ly. and he knows it. If he have an interest in me
busines-, he will work for himself as well as for
"I don't know that I want to leave Mr. Scrofleld
and Kingston." said Geoffrey thoughtfully.
"You will have a better chance with me; an
why young ng ien should love to stick in town, I
can't imagine. But you can cr-ne to Kingston
every now an' then. you know. What pay Scrofteld
give you'"
"Three hundred a year now. and I am to get a
rise shortly."
"Well. I will give you three hundred an' fifty."
Geoffrey thought over this offer. He did not
crave to live out (f Kingston: on the other hand
he wished to please Mr. Burrell as much as possible.
And. undoubtedly, there was greater prospect of ad-
vancement in Mr. Burrell's business than in Mr.
Scrofield's. He surmised that it was in the account-
ing branch :.-f that business that he was immediately
required. but he could easily learn the other
branches of it. for he was quick in the up-take.
And. in existing circumstances. it might be as well
that he should not for much longer be associated
with Mr. Strofield
He remembered the incident of the car that.

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Myrtle had got as a present from his employer. That
showed on Mr. Scrofiell's part a deeper interest in
Myrtle:than Geoffrey Dawson could approve.
"Tomorrow is the end of the month," he said,
after a while: "I will tell you my decision tomor-
row. I shall have to give Mr. Scrofield a month's
notice. And my salary must be four hundred a
He then proceeded to eat a rather bad dinner
in the ,.rl--ine of which Mr Burrell asked him how
lie h1dd conium to be so great an authority on mechan-
i-ed. warfaree, and discovered that Mr. Dawson knew
nothiniri about the subject. "That must have been
one of Mr. Stanley's little jokes," he laughed. -"But
I sspei t he knows a lot about mechanised warfare
himself and wanted you to ask him about it."
EIarly the next evening Mr. Scrofield called on
Myrtle and suggested that they might go for a lit-
tle drive together. Myrtle was eager to hear if
anything had happened between Harry and Lottie
and wondered whether Harry would hint at it. She
could not directly question Lottie herself, now that
that young lady had suggested that she and Harry
were on excellent terms once more; but indirect-
ly something might be wormed out of Harry.

Myrtle felt that she was in the centre of an intri-
guing situation. She was quite certain that Mr.
Scrofield was in love with her, while Geoffrey had
definitely proposed to her. Then her uncle, it was
obvious, wanted Joe Crisman to marry her, and
probably Joe would become a suitor for her hand if
Mr. Burrell insisted upon that. So three men were
or would be after her; the difficulty was that her
uncle, who represented wealth, was in favour of
precisely the person for whom she cared nothing
as a lover, and who had not displayed any particular
preference for her.
She thought she knew Mr. Burrell. Next to Joe
Crisman, whom he liked, he might prefer Harry
Scrofield because Harry had money and had already
acquired a settled position. Geoffrey would not be
high in his estimation as a prospective husband for
her. It was true that that dear old gentleman, Mr.
Stanley, had done something to cause Mr. Burrell
to think much of Geoffrey, but this good impression
might not last. She feared that her uncle Could be
an ugly customer if crossed. Yet in this matter, he
would have to be crossed.
"You know, Myrtle," said Mr. Scrofield, as soon
as they were in the car and were driving toward the
Windward Road, "I am very fond of you."

IT ii


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"Yes, I know that, Harry: you care for me al-
most as if I was a daughter, don't you?"
"No daughter stuff about it at all," exclaimed
Mr. Scrofield, nettled at this indirect reference to
his age. "I love you: that's all there is about it."
"Since when?" she asked calmly, though she felt
"From the first time I saw you, but I wanted
to make sure."
"Not since you met me uncle?"
"Certainly not! What has he to do with it?"
"Well, maybe nothing; but I was just wonder-
"Do you think that your uncle and his money
could influence me? I have money too quite
enough. I love you, and I want you to marry me."
"And what would your daughters say, Harry?"
"Hang me daughters! But as a matter of fact
they would be proud of you. You don't seem to
know how fine you look, and what an accomplished
young lady you are. I will tell me daughters that I
am going to marry you, and they will be pleased.
But even if they were not, what difference could
that make to you and me? They are not supporting
us. You're going to accept me?"
His love-making, it came to her, was of a rather
sober kind; it had not the directness and boldness
of Geoffrey's. But she would not refuse him out-
right; it tickled her vanity to play with him. And
she had a little grudge to pay off, partly against the
Misses Scrofield, partly against Lottie who had so
quickly shown ingratitude. She could tease this
lover of hers, too, knowing that if she lost him she
could lose nothing that she intended to have any-
way. So she said:
"Everybody is going to say how much older you
are than me; sort of December and May. You think
you are wise, Harry?"
"But I love you. Don't you think you can love
me in return?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not."
"What does that mean?"
"That you must wait a little, a few days. I
can't answer you now."
He ,was disappointed, yet he supposed that it
was natural that she should want a few days in
which to come to a definite decision. She resumed
the talk.
"I will speak to my father and mother about
what you say."
"But," he suggested quickly, "don't say anything
to your uncle till you answer me, and your parents


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JYttention..... you then

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fhle only exclusive men's op in famaica.

mustn't say anything either. You hear?"
"All right; though I don't see why I shouldn't.
But you'd better tell your daughters what you in-
To this he agreed, but made up his mind not
to say anything to the Misses Scrofield until Myrtle
had consented to marry him. He felt pretty certain
now that she would; but there would be no sense
in facing the fire of his daughters' indignation be-
fore he absolutely must. He hoped that they would
be converted to sane ways of thinking when the fact
that he was marrying a girl with money had had
time to sink into their minds. If this potent fact
had no effect upon them, they could do what they
When they got back to the house he wanted to
kiss Myrtle, but was not quite sure how she would
take this offer as they were not yet engaged. A
month ago he would not have hesitated to try to kiss
her; now, somehow, it was different. He had grown
a little afraid of her: he could no longer pretend
even to himself that he was patronising her. He
even wondered for a moment whether he really
loved her as much as he would have her and him-
self believe. As for her, she gaily bade him good-night
and skipped into the house. And straightway in-
formed her mother and father that Mr. Scrofield had
proposed to her, that she had not accepted him, and
that they could tell her uncle of this. That she
was breaking a promise did not worry her, for she
was certain that Mr. Scrofield had no present inten-
tion of keeping his word as to informing his daugh-
ters of his proposal to her.
But those young ladies would know. Of that
she would make certain.
She left her home early the next morning
and stopped at Miss Emma's place. That spinster'.s
room was in an untidy condition; she herself opened
her door to Myrtle with her hair sticking up at dif-
ferent angles and in an old and faded dressing
gown. But she was delighted to see Myrtle. During
the last few days she had felt that she was being
neglected and this had caused her much bitterness
of heart. Now she felt relieved.
"Miss Emma, guess what's happened?" Myrtle
blurted out. "No," she went on, in answer to Miss
Emma's suggestion that she should take a seat,
"I haven't time to sit down. I just thought you
would like to know that Harry Scrofield proposed
to me last night!"
"You don't say so, me love! Well, it's nothing

strange. I could see he love you. What did you say
to him?"
"Nothing; I had to have time to think it over."
"Yes; but you can't refuse a man like him,
Myrtle, even if he is a little older than you. And
that's not much. You will be in society with his
daughters. They know?"
"How can I tell? Their father may have told
them, but I don't even know them yet. You know
them, Miss Emma."
"Yes; but-"
"So you can tell them if you like; after all, it
is only right that they should know."
"But but suppose they should object, Myr-
"Let them; that won't make any difference to
"You going to accept him, then?"
"I don't know yet but I would like them to
know about this affair; I shouldn't want any women
to say that I snatched their father away from them,
under their very nose, without their knowing a word
about it. So if you want to tell them, I won't mind."
"They would like to hear about it," thoughtful-
ly said Miss Emma, her love of gossip asserting it-
self. To be the first outsider to convey this won-
derful news to the great Misses Scrofield that was
certainly something to be appreciated. They couldn't
be angry with her for telling them, too, since she
Would do so discreetly, and need not appear to be
taking Myrtle's part if the young ladies became
angry. Besides, Myrtle herself had suggested that
she should convey the information to the two girls.
"I will go round to see them this very morn-
ing," she said to Myrtle; "and I am glad, me love,
that Mr. Scrofield has approached you in a hon-
ourable fashion. It shows that he not only love you
b ut respect you."
"He couldn't do anything else," returned Myrtle
loftily, then hurried on to her work.
Two hours later she telephoned to Mr. Stanley's
office and left a message for him. If he should hap-
pen to come in, would they ask him to call at where
Miss Broglie worked at about one o'clock?
At a few minutes to one Mr. Stanley was patient-
ly waiting at the foot of the office stairs for Myrtle,
having sent up to her to say that he had obeyed
her command.
She came tripping down to meet him: "Let's go
and have lunch together, Mr. Paul," she suggested,
"I have something to tell you."
"You will have lunch with me," he protested;


that can


t2 ra&:ia




"let us go to some nice place." At the same time he
hoped devoutly that Myrtle would not suggest an
eating house where the prices might be exorbitant.
She named the restaurant where she had lunched
with Mr. Scrofield not long ago; he hailed a pass-
ing taxi and took her thither. He was proud to be
seen in her company, and hoped that she would be
taken for his daughter. Myrtle's present dependence
on him had an intoxicating quality about it. He was
certain that again she was about to appeal for his
aid, without which, clearly, she could not do, and
he would give that aid unreservedly.
"Do you know what happened last night?" she
asked, while they both were having soup.
"No; what?"
"Harry Scrofield proposed to me."
The soup was hot; it was therefore a pity that
surprise caused Mr. Stanley to bolt a whole spoon-
ful of it before giving it time to cool. He spluttered:
he did not like hot soup. He hastily swallowed a
mouthful of ice-water, then remarked:
"But I thought you liked Dawson, who is your
own age, more or less, and whom I praised to your
"But all that wouldn't hinder Mr. Scrofield from
proposing to me," Myrtle pointed out. "He don't
even know anything about you and me and Geof-
"Of course, of course. I should have thought of
that. But you didn't accept him?"
"Well, my uncle may like him, you know."
"I don't think so; your uncle likes Mr. Cris-
man, who seems to me to be a young man with no
particular aptitudes."
"He would prefer Harry to Geoffrey all the
same, Mr. Paul."
"That may be; yes, I can see that. But I pre-
fer Geoffrey; he is an astonishingly able young
"I expect to see him at the house tonight," said
Myrtle; "and my uncle may be at the house too. I
can't talk to me uncle about Mr. Scrofield, Mr. Paul,
but you can."
"I can, certainly, but what I am to say?"
"Why don't you tell him, privately, about Harry
and Lottie Moyne? After all, it is you that have
been trying so nobly to help Lottie."
Mr. Stanley tingled with delight. At last, it
seemed, he was about to learn something intimate
as to the reason of his mission to Mr. Scrofield the
day before yesterday. But it would never do for
him even to let Myrtle think that he had been
puzzled about that mission. So he looked wise and
said: "I shall continue the good work I undertook
for Lottie at your behest, my dear. How is poor
Lottie now?"
"I guess she is all right," answered Myrtle dry-
ly; "but don't you see that if I accepted Mr. Scro-
field he couldn't marry Lottie? And he ought to
marry her you understand, don't you, Mr. Paul?"
she asked, looking embarrassed.
"Perfectly," he said, feeling that his former sus-
picions were now fully verified. "Perfectly."
"I suppose he is thinking of sending her to
Cuba or some such place, but that wouldn't be right."

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"Of course not! But why should he send her
to Cuba, Myrtle?"
"How can you expect me to answer such a
question?" she blurted out pettishly. "I am only a
girl, Mr. Paul, and I don't want you o feel ashamed
of me."
"I could never do that, my dear: I was best
man at your father's wedding."
"Exactly. Well, if you tell Uncle Bill that you
don't think Mr. Scrofield is treating Lottie right,
and that you hear he wants to send her to Cuba
for an operation, Uncle Bill won't want me to 'ave-
have anything to do with him, and that will help
Geoff and, perhaps, Lottie too."
"I grasped that from the first," replied Mr.
Stanley with dignity: "the situation was perfectly
clear to me. But-" he paused suddenly as a
thought occurred to him.
"If Mr. Burrell should repeat my remarks to
Mr. Scrofield, that gentleman would have a suit for
slander against me. I might lose my job and have
to pay some money to boot. Our laws are very
funny, Myrtle; they help the man with money, not
men like me."
"Don't talk to me uncle before any witnesses,

and warn him not to repeat a word of what you say
to Mr. Scrofield. Besides, he wouldn't do that in
any case, for he couldn't One man couldn't go
up like that and say anything to another one about
that man's girl. Uncle Bill could cnly treat Mr.
Scrofield coldly, but that would be enough. It would
do Harry's forward daughters good. too, to know
how my uncle insulted their father who wanted to
marry me. It would pull them down a peg."
"Magnificent," exclaimed Mr. Stanley; "do you
know that, just before you said that, I was thinking
the same thing myself? Leave everything to me,
my dear: I will eliminate Mr. Scrofield. There will
then be left only Mr. Crisman to deal with. I will
eliminate him too."
"Leave that to me. You must trust me, Myrtle,
you must place absolute confidence in my ability to
deal with difficult situations. A way will be opened
up, and I shall pursue it. I would do anything for
you and for that fine young fellow, Dawson. This
steak is very good; but I suppose we shall have to
eat it quickly, or leave most of it, as you have to go
back to your work." This he said with sincere re-
(Continued on Page 58)

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(Continued from Page 57)
"You can go on enjoying your lunch, Mr. Paul"
- how often in these days, he thought with satis-
faction, did she address him as Mr. Paul, which was
surely a term of endearment- "I have had enough,
and will run back now to work. Well, we'll see
you tonight."
She jumped up and left, and he continued
thoughtfully to enjoy his meal. He would that very
night endeavour to take Mr. Burrell out of the
hearing of other persons and would whisper to him
his grave doubts about the moral integrity of Mr.
Scrofield. He would not pretend to know anything
about that gentleman's proposal to Myrtle; at the
same time he would delicately convey to Mr. Burrell
his impression that only Mr. Burrell of all the fam-
ily could handle Mr. Scrofleld as a man of that
stamp should be handled if he appeared as sui-
tor to a lady member of the family. And he would
pledge Mr. Burrell to secrecy as to his informant.
If trouble could be avoided, it should be. A slander
action had its terrifying aspects.
When Mr. Scrofield got home that afternoon he
found himself faced by two daughters who fairly
bristled with anger. So he had made up his mind,
had he, to marry beneath him, to marry a girl that
they had never spoken to and never would speak
to, no, not even if she trod upon gold! What was
he thinking of? He had been going about with Lot-
'tie Moyne: they had known that. Now he had
given up Lottie. But, at the worst, Lottie was in-
finitely above this Myrtle Broglie, and he must
know that. They would tell him this: they were
not prepared to have Myrtle Broglie a member of
their family. He was their father, and therefore
he must realise his responsibility towards them.
Let him understand that clearly.
How had they heard such nonsense? he de-
manded. Were they not old enough not to put faith
in every rumour that came their way? And was
he not a grown man and free to do what he liked?
He was sick of all this damned nonsense; he would
no longer put up with it. He would marry whom
he pleased, and they could make the best of it. But
they shouldn't believe everything they were told;
that was not fair to him, especially as he had been
a good father to them and did everything in their
interest. And so forth and so on, a mixture of de-
nial and bluster. And in Harry's heart was a stub-

born resolve not to be browbeaten out of his inten-
tion to marry Myrtle and her money.


EXT morning Myrtle sent a note to Mrs. Black-
heath saying that she was going round to her
house in the afternoon, about five, and suggesting
that Nellie might invite Lottie to be there at about
the same time. Nellie Blackheath at once concluded
that Myrtle's proposed visit was connected with Mr.
Scrofield, and that Lottie would come to the same
conclusion. There could be no doubt that Lottie
would put in an appearance.
Mrs. Blackheath was very curious as to what
Myrtle had done and how her plan, if any, had suc-
ceeded. She prepared tea for her guests. It was a
nice tea, with guava jelly and toasted cassava wafers
and biscuits. And it was all set out on her eastern
verandah, which, in the late afternoon, was always
in the shade.
Behind the greenery of a climbing vine, seated
in comfortable rocking-chairs, the three young wo-
men sat, waited upon by Nellie's very capable maid.
But this girl was dismissed as soon as she had
brought in and poured out the tea, Nellie telling her
that, for the rest, they would help themselves. The
girl gone, there was no one within earshot, as the
verandah was separated from the street by a wide
strip of garden with the trees in flower.
"Thought it would interest you to know what
a funny thing has happened," said Myrtle, with her
mouth half-full of crisp, crumbling cassava. "Last
night Harry Scrofield proposed to me."
"What?" almost screamed Lottie, while even
Nellie Blackheath started as if stung.
"It is the God's truth; and, mark you, the man
can't say I gave him any encouragement at all."
"But .. but Harry was with me the other
night," declared Lottie angrily, "and he never said
a word about it. In fact --"
"Yes; what?" Myrtle put the question coldly.
Nellie interposed. It seemed to her that a first-
rate quarrel might break out between these two un-
less it were prevented at once.
"You said you were going to help Lottie, Myrtle:
what did you say to Mr. Scrofield?"
"Of course I refused him! 'Or, if I didn't re-
fuse him right away, I made him understand that
I would. Didn't I tell you girls last week that I
wasn't going to have anything to do with Scro-
field, especially after the way he's been treating

Lottie? But I can't prevent him from proposing to
me if he wants to, though I can always tell him that
I don't want an old man."
"It's your money he wants," interjected Lottie
bitterly, undisguised jealousy and anger in her eyes;
"it's not you."
"He was coming about me before my uncle ever
turned up at the house, Lottie: perhaps you forget
"Yes; but it wasn't to marry you."
"Then what was it for, please? To treat me
like he has treated you? Please remember, Miss
Moyne, that you and I are different."
"Very different," retorted Lottie with spirit;
"and Harry Scrofield knows it."
Both Myrtle and Nellie Blackheath knew that
Lottie was referring to such things as the respective
social positions of the Moynes and the Broglies, to
the colours and complexions of these families also,
and that Lottie, now stung beyond the restraints of
prudence, cared not at the moment how rude she
might be to Myrtle or what the latter might say
about her to anyone. Lottie was enraged, and there-
fore, for the time at least, careless of all conse-
But Myrtle had now had her revenge, and much
sooner than she had expected. That telephone con-
versation with Lottie, which had given her an indi-
cation of Lottie's ingratitude, had at last been
answered. And the cards were all in her favour.
She coi..d have Harry Scrofield if she wished, and
she could spread some ugly news about Lottie
Moyne, too, if she chose; she could keep Harry from
seeing the young lady for days, for weeks, by sim-
ply dangling him on the string of expectation. So
she did not become as angry at Lottie's wild insult
as Nellie Blackheath feared she might; she simply
looked at Lottie and said: "I can understand how
you feel with all your troubles, my dear, so I won't
take any notice of you. But another girl might
act differently, and you'd better remember that."
"For God's sake," breathed Mrs. Blackheath,
"you two mustn't quarrel. What is there to quarrel
about? Lottie is in trouble, and you, Myrtle, prom-
ised like all the rest of us to help her. Yet the mo-
ment you meet again here you begin to quarrel.
Good Lord, is that right?"
"She has everything, and I have nothing,"
sobbed Lottie, "and she is taking an advantage of
that. But I don't care, I don't care. She can have
Harry Scrofield if she likes, and I can die in the
(Continued on Page 60)




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(Continued from Page 58)
gutter. But she needn't boast and brag over me, for
I am not going to put up with that."
"She is not boasting or bragging over you, Lot-
tie," remarked Mrs. Blackheath steadily, though she
felt in her heart of hearts that that was just what
Myrtle was' doing, intentionally as it seemed. "She
is only telling you about something that has hap-
pened, and which it may be just as well that you
should know. Besides, doesn't Myrtle say that she
isn't going to take away your boy-friend?"
"I say it and I mean it," snapped Myrtle; "but
what does she mean by saying that she is very dif-
ferent from me, and that Harry Scrofield knows it?
She means that she is fair and I am dark, and-"
"Myrtle, me dear, it was you who first told Lot-
tie that you were different from her: you forget
that already? You said the first provoking word,
you know, though I am sure you didn't mean it.
After all, too, Lottie is our friend, and is in mis-
fortune. We can't expect her to feel calm like our-
selves. You two must make friends again; I beg
you, for God's sake."
"I have nothing against Lottie," retorted Myr-
tle; "I said I would help her, and I am doing it.
Do you think she would have seen Harry already if
it wasn't for me?"
"What did you do?" asked Lottie sullenly.
"Never mind that. What I did was enough."
"But you say he proposed to you, and all he
said to me was -"
"What did he say?" urged Nellie, as Lottie
"That I should go to Cuba. He wants me to go
to Cuba so that he can marry Myrtle."
"Perhaps so," Mrs. Blackheath admitted, "but
even if you stayed here that couldn't prevent him
from marrying Myrtle if she wanted him. And
what more did you expect from him, Lottie? I thought
that you wanted him to send you to Cuba."
To this Lottie made no answer, and Myrtle
smiled. She knew Lottie's persistent hope, which
she considered vain: Harry was not going to marry
Lottie. That was Mrs. Blackheath's own feeling also.


are Sole Aentrs for:-












Both Myrtle and Nellie wished it otherwise, but the
facts were against the wish. Harry Scrofield was
after, not a pretty girl only, but money, and of money
Lottie had none.
It was clear to Mrs. Blackheath now that Myrtle,
though she wanted to save Lottie from open dis-
grace, had come round to the house this afternoon to
triumph over Lottie; Myrtle's complacency as she
sat at the tea-table demonstrated that. She was rap-
idly succeeding in life, and already her heartlessness,
as Nellie Blackheath regarded her conduct, was
displaying itself. Nellie stiffened inwardly. If Myr-
tle could treat poor Lottle o, how would she act to-
wards her other friends? Might she not become in-
solent and overbearing towards them too? Nellie
had been thinking much in the last few days about
Myrtle's unexpected good fortune; she was not sure
now that she was so pleased that it had happened.
As a matter of fact her pleasure, and that of Myrtle's
other friends, had from the first been tempered with
some stirring of envy. It would not take much for
that envy to blossom into full-bodied dislike. Myrtle
sensed something of Nellie's new feeling, remembered
that Nellie and she had often, though never serious-
ly, clashed in the past, and knew that Nellie was in-
dependent in character and had influence with her
other young friends. She did not want to lose Nel-
lie's friendship; presently she would tell Nellie how
ungrateful Lottie had begun to be the moment she
and Harry Scrofield had come together, in some sort
of fashion, again. Just now she must seek to hold
the confidence and good feeling which she seem-
ed on the verge of losing. And, anyhow, she had put
Lottie in her proper place, which had been her prin-
cipal object that afternoon.
"If I have said anything to hurt Lottie," she ob-
served with every appearance of sincerity, "I am
sorry; but I thought she would believe me when I
told her I had no sort of use for Mr. Scrofield. If
she likes him, that's up to her: everybody to his
taste. I have other fish to fry."
"Who it is?" asked Lottie quickly, not believing
a word that Myrtle had uttered.
"Can't say now," returned Myrtle; "it is his
business as well as mine, and he mightn't be pleased
if I talked about his business. But it is true."

"You're lucky," said Lottie dryly. "Well, I sup-
pose I had better be going home now."
"And there is no ill-feeling between the two of
you?" asked Nellie.
But Lottie did not offer to kiss Myrtle on part-
ing, as she would ordinarily have done, and Myrtle
noticed this. She shrugged her shoulders slightly.
Real friendship between Miss Moyne and her had
She lingered until Lottie had gone, and then
was at pains to tell Nellie about the conversation
she had had over the phone with Lottie. Nellie lis-
tened closely.
"I see," she said at length, "but there's no use
being sharp with her, Myrtle; her mind is disturbed:
if it was you or me we might be almost mad. Of
course, I suppose you know that the first time she
sees Harry Scrofield again she's going to repeat
every word you have said about him."
"I expect that," said Myrtle, "though I can't see
that it will do her any good."
"It won't, but she won't mind that. She'll
think it will injure you."
"Well, it can't Nellie, for I really don't want
Harry Scrofield: I have told you already that I have
other fish to fry."
"And when you are going to tell us the other
fish's name?"

Lottie went right home, and rang up Harry
Scrofield. Could he come round to see her tonight?
She wouldn't go for any drive, but she would like
to see him.
Mr. Scrofield was sure that Lottie had already
arranged with some friend to go away with her, and
desired to tell him about it. This was commendable
promptitude; he appreciated it. Yes, he would be at
her house at about eight o'clock. She must try to
get her father and mother to leave them alone after
a while.
Which was what Lottie intended to do. But, also,
she hinted to her mother that Myrtle Broglie was
setting her cap at Harry Scrofield, confident that her
mother would take the first possible opportunity of
expressing her opinion of Myrtle to Harry. Mrs.
Moyne always took the first possible opportunity of
expressing her opinion of persons she had no rea-
son to like. She was a lady with a shrewish, deter-
mined countenance who did not approve of some of
the friends that Lottie had. Myrtle had always been
one of these.
It was with deliberate purpose, as a sort of clue
to mamma, that Lottie remarked that night, when
she and Harry and Mrs. Moyne Mr. Moyne had
gone out were seated in the drawing-room:
"I had tea this afternoon with Nellie Blackheath
and Myrtle Broglie at Nellie's house: I hope the tea
won't keep me up tonight. 'ea don't affect some peo-
ple, but others, like me, can hardly ever take it
after one o'clock in the day. Now Myrtle says she
can drink it any time."
Mrs. Moyne sniffed. "I wouldn't expect Miss
Broglie to have any nerves," she observed severely:
"where is she to get them from?"
"But we all have nerves," Mr. Scrofield pointed
out. "Only, of course, some of us are more nervous
than others."
"Well, I have only met this Miss Myrtle Broglie
twice in my life," said Mrs. Moyne, "and she seemed
to be a brazen kind of young woman who wouldn't
know what nerves are. I don't approve of her as
Lottie's friend, and Lottie knows it; but young girls
don't care in these days what their parents think."
"Oh, mamma," cried Lottie, "Myrtle is a nice
girl. I don't know why you don't like her."
"I neither like nor dislike her," protested Mrs.
Moyne, "she's just nothing to me, but I don't like
to see a child of mine friendly with her. What I
always say is that people should keep to their own
class,: don't you agree with me, Mr. Scrofield?"
"Why, yes, Mrs. Moyne; yes." But Mr. Scrofleld
did not like the tone or trend of the conversation.
"Poor Myrtle's class is quite all right," asse-
verated Lottie, with spurious warmth. "She's been
well educated, and she has a good job. She may be
dark; but what about that? That is all stupidness."
"No stupidness at all," asserted Mrs. Moyne firm-
ly. "Look at her father. Look at her mother. You
are friendly with her, but do you think your father
could have Mr. Broglie enter his house? Could his
wife ever come here? The woman is as fat as a bar-
rel" Mrs. Moyne herself was of the angular des-
cription which Julius Caesar is said to have detested
"and looks like a cook. Perhaps she used to be a
cook before she got married, for all I know. She
and her husband are nobody, and it is young ladies
like you who make their daughter somebody by asso-
ciating with her. I don't know what Jamaica is com-
ing to! However, whatever you choose to do, Lottie,
I am not changing. I suppose you must go your way
and I mine."
Lottie laughed good-naturedly.
"You are too severe, mamma," she remarked.
heart-glad that her mother had spoken so plainly.

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And, indeed, Mr. Scrofield could almost have imagined
that it was one of his own daughters who had been
laying down the law about Myrtle and the Brog-
lies. How foolish all these people were, he thought;
they lived in the past and in their own narrow cir-
cles, they did not understand that it was virile
people like Myrtle, and especially her uncle, who
commanded the destinies of the present. Lottie
knew better; she was a sensible girl. He hoped that
Lottie and Myrtle would continue to be friends after
Myrtle had become Mrs. Scrofield.
"Shall we sit on the verandah, Harry?" asked
Lottie: "it may be cooler there, though it is hot
He gladly consented, and as they went out to
the verandah Mrs. Moyne, asking to be excused, went
to the back of the house. She was pleased that she
had expressed her true feelings about the Broglies,
though she felt she had not said half enough. How-
ever, she had given Mr. Scrofield a hint as to what
all people with a sense of the fitness of things thought
about a family with whom, it appeared, he was on
some terms of intimacy.
"Well," said Harry, as th"y sat down out of
hearing of anyone, "you fixed up that little matter?"
"Not quite yet," Lottie replied. "I spoke to one
or two people today, and they said they would let me
know if they could go with me. Of course, I only
told them I was thinking of a trip."
"Yes, of course," agreed Harry; but he felt a lit-
tle disappointed. He wanted quick action.
"I could get a regular nurse, I suppose," sug-
gested Lottie.
"For God's sake don't do that," he interjected,
alarmed. "Why, people might guess."
"That's what I thought meself," said Lottie. "I
have to be careful for your sake as well as for mine."
"Quite so."
"And when I am gone you will get engaged to
Myrtle Broglie, Harry?"
"What nonsense you're talking! If you are
going to go on harping on Myrtle Broglie, Lottie, I
will stay away again. This is enough to drive me
mad. What is it you want to say?"
"I met Myrtle at Nellie's this evening; I was
invited round by Nellie. It wasn't I who arranged
to meet Myrtle, so you needn't be vexed with me.
It was while we were having tea that Myrtle said
out plainly to both Nellie and me that you had pro-
posed to her the other night and that she had put
you off. Sh3 didn't say she had refused you, but

only that she was playing with you but, of course,
that might have been all a blind."
"She was lying," rasped out Mr. Scrofield.
"I thought so meself, Harry; all the same I
didn't like to hear what she said And I didn't like
to hear her laugh at how old you are for you're
not old and talk of how she had other fish to fry.
I don't go to her house, so I don't know if other men
are going there. You must know. But she talked
about you as if you were dirt, and as if her other
'fish' know all about you. I thought I would tell
you, for it doesn't suit a man like you that people
should laugh at you behind your back. Don't you
agree with me?"
"They wouldn't dare to laugh at me," he fumed;
"they wouldn't be so forward. But don't you see,
Lottie, that Myrtle is only making fun?"
"She's making fun at you, yes."
"She can go to hell!"
"She believes you would follow her there."
"She's a fool to think so. But tell me, did you
say anything to your mother about what Myrtle
said this afternoon?"
"Me? Why should I? My mother doesn't like
Myrtle and her parents as it is, and if I told her
that you were going to marry Myrtle she would have
a fit. After all, you are a gentleman, Harry."
"That's all right; but what has that to do with
what we're talking about?"
"Well, you hear what my mother thinks of Myr-
tle and her people, a .,1 you know that a lot of oth-
ers like my mother have the same opinion. I don't
want mamma to think less of you than she does, so
I wouldn't breathe a word to her about what Myrtle
said. Besides, I didn't believe it. I know how Myr-
tle can boast; and she has other young men tailing
after her. She says so."
Mr. Scrofield was silent. Myrtle had spread the
story of. his proposal, and must have done it de-
liberately. Why? Through her infernal vanity, he
imagined. Or perhaps she had heard something
about him and Lottie from Mr. Stanley, the man who
spoke in such a mysterious fashion, and wanted to
let Lottie know that she hadn't a chance. Women
were like that; heartless and cruel where other wo-
men were concerned: they had not the magnanimity
of men. And they couldn't keep their word. A
secret with them was something to be blurted out
as soon as possible. Mr. Scrofield's feeling of honour
was revolted.
Another thought struck him.
If Myrtle had told Lottie and Mrs. Blackheath

of his proposal, she had probably informed her
uncle and other persons as well. It would soon be
all over the town. Then, if she did not eventually
accept him though that was almost incredible -
he would look like a fool, and ev4h if she but kept
him guessing he would be in an embarrassing situa-
tion. That would never do; Myrtle must make up
her mind quickly: he would press her to do so. And
Lottie must leave for Cuba as soon as a ship for
that country should sail from Kingston.


ON Friday night Mr. Stanley had taken Mr. Bur-
rell apart, at Myrtle's house, and had given to
him his candid opinion of Mr. Scrofield. Mr. Bur-
rell listened patiently, then had remarked that
he could not see that what Mr. Scrofield did was any
business of his. He did not seem in a happy frame
of mind. He had been working hard, he was fatigued,
to Mr. Stanley's eyes he even looked somewhat ill.
Mr. Stanley agreed that what Mr. Scrofield
did was really not any business of Mr. Burrell or
of his; he stressed this. But he felt satisfied that
at any rate he had imparted valuable information to
the man of money.
"Where's Mr. Crisman tonight?" he enquired
"The young fool say he couldn't come up here
tonight because he promised to go to some foolish
moving picture or the other," Mr. Burrell answered
irritably. "Why do he want to go to a moving-pic-
ture show? I never go."
"Of course, of course," murmured Mr. Stanley
sympathetically, but his wits were working quickly.
"I suppose Crisman likes these entertainments," he
observed casually.
"He must, though he don't get much of them in
the country, I can tell you," said Mr. Burrell. "He
says he'J going on Sunday night, too, to some place
called Palace, though I was hoping he would dine up
here not that it matters," he added, as he did not
care that Mr. Stanley should know anything just yet
about his plans.:
Mr. Stanley was about to suggest that Crisman
could have supper at .the,house and then, take Myrtle
to the show, but halted just in time. Mr. Crisman
must have some special reason for wanting to go to
the picture theatre on Sunday night, even though
Mr. Burrell desired otherwise. He changed the con-
versation. "You will be in Kingston next week?"
he asked Mr. Burrell.




"I are going back to Manchester on Monday,"
replied that gentleman, "but will come up again
During the week. I have lots of things to do."
"You are perfectly wonderful, sir," exclaimed
Mr. Stanley, and Mr. Burrell smiled.
Yes, he knew he was wonderful. Dawson had
decided to come to him, and had given Mr. Scro-
field notice. Mr. Scrofield hadn't liked this, but had
not said much about it. 1ir. Burrell's legal busi-
ness had all been fixed up too; his lawyers had
been expeditious, and though Myrtle would not know
it for a few months yet she was now placed in a
fine position financially. He had not only made a
deed of gift on her behalf, he had left her most of
his property in the new will he had made. But he
was bent upon her marrying Crisman, and she
must know nothing cf her good fortune until that
little matter was finally arranged.
As for Mr. Stanley, he also was convinced that
he was wonderful. Especially as he turned over in
his mind the idea that he had conceived. On Sun-
day he would ca-ry it out.
So on Sunday morning he hurried to Myrtle's
house and asked her to lend him her car that even-
ing. He explained why he wanted it. She cordial-
ly, even enthusiastically, consented.

This was, he thought, as it should be: had he
not, even in the realm of prophecy, proved his pos-
session of a remarkable foresight? On Friday Ger-
many had attacked Poland and the war was now
merrily in progress. He had foretold that war,
and also a greater war between England and France
on the one side, Germany and Italy on the other,
which he expected would break out at any moment
now. It is true that as much excitement was not
locally shown in the German-Polish conflict as he
had expected, and no one had yet congratulated him
on having foreseen its approach. Envy, pure envy, he
thought, was the cause of this silent dismissal of
his claim to be considered a prognosticator of
events; the envy that embittered the lives of all
Truly great men. He did not pause to reflect that he
had only spoken in general terms about the war to
such limited audiences as Mr. Burrell and Jane and
her husband, and that there were hundreds of
other persons who had been saying the same thing
for weeks. He did not, however, allow himself to
be depressed by what seemed to him the spirit of
depreciation which animated men against him: he
was, he felt, fighting a little war of his own on
Myrtle's behalf, and just at present his mind was
taken up with the strategy and tactics of that par-
ticular struggle. His plan pleased him, he was cer-




because only Goodyear's famous All.
Weather Tread gives you all these time-
proved features:




That's why "You get the most for Your Money
in a Goodyear!"

tain it would meet with success. Hence his com-
plete satisfaction this Sunday morning.
With remarkable self-sacrifice Mr. Stanley re-
frained from going round to Vincent and Jane for
supper that evening. Once at the house, he might
have been induced to stay: besides, Mr. Burrell
might be there, and he did not want Mr. Burrell
to have the slightest inkling of what he proposed to
do. He thought regretfully of supper: it would
probably be cold cornbeef, and he was very partial
to cold cornbeef. And, if Mr. Burrell should be
there, a cold chicken would very likely be added to
the menu, and Mr. Stanley remembered that, above
all other things, cold chicken was a favourite of his.
In addition to good old Jamaica rum, also, there
might be whisky he had noticed whisky of late
among the libations poured forth in honour of the
Man of Money, and whisky was not a drink that
could be procured, gratis, on ordinary occasions.
But tonight he would sacrifice all these delicacies
in order to serve Myrtle; and as he thought of this
great abandonment of personal interests on his part
his soul was suffused with a glow of supreme hap-
piness. He ceased to regret anything. He felt that
the halo of martyrdom, worn on rare occasions,
added much to the satisfactions of life.
When Myrtle's car came round for him at about
eight o'clock that evening he was already fully
clothed. He had again donned his grey coat, with
waistcoat and trousers to match, and all down his
body little streams of perspiration were trickling.
There wasn't a breath of wind blowing, tropical
summer weather held full sway, and the material
of his suit was thick and heavy. Happily, he would
not be obliged to wear his beaver. Times had
changed since he was a young man; men of the
better classes hardly now wore hats at night,
especially at moving-picture shows, and it was to
the Palace Moving Picture Theatre that Mr. Stanley
was going. He did not leave his house immediately.
Instead, he ordered Charles to wait a while; he was
resolved that every one in the neighbourhood should
notice that a neat little car had called for him and
could be kept waiting; besides, he wished to time
his arrival at the Palace so as to be neither too
early nor too late. Therefore it was not until a
quarter past eight that he left the place at which he
lived, arriving at the Palace ifi about five minutes.
He entered the gates, bought his ticket, halted in
the lighted Palace yard looking about him, wandered
towards the eighteenpence entrance of the Theatre,
glanced scrutinisingly over the occupied seats, then
took a vacant seat in the front row of his section,
from which, by a dexterous system of turning and
peering, he could spot almost anyone within the
range of his sight.
He did not see the persons for whom he was
looking. His heart sank a little: had he miscalcu-
lated, after all? Was his far-seeing plan to fall?
Mr. Burrell had said that Joe Crisman would be at
this moving-picture theatre tonight, and Mr. Stanley
had concluded that Joe would take with him some
lovely damsel to whom Joe was paying his atten-
tions. To learn the young lady's name, to get a
clear line as to Joe's intentions towards her, and
then to be able to report to Mr. Burrell that Joe was
in love with, perhaps engaged to, another girl than
Myrtle: that was what Mr. Stanley had in mind. It
could not harm Joe Crisman, he thought, and would
do Geoffrey Dawson and Myrtle an immense amount
of good. Mr. Burrell would be compelled to accept
the inevitable and make the best of it. But he
would want facts before he reached a definite con-
clusion. Mr. Stanley was resolved to supply him
with those facts.
It did not occur to Mr. Paul Stanley that un-
kind persons might have suggested that he was spy-
ing upon Joe Crisman. He himself would have been
shocked at any such malicious interpretation of his
actions. The difficulty was that he would have been
much put to for any other reasonable explanation
of them. Happily for his peace of mind and self-
respect, it never occurred to him that anyone could
find the least possible fault with what he was doing.
And he had received Myrtle's approval, which had,
as it were, put the seal of righteousness on this en-
deavour of his.
But now he was assailed with a feeling of dis-
appointment. What if Mr. Crisman had decided to
go to some other picture house? In another minute
the lights here would go out, the show would be-
gin. There was no time to wander from place to
place seeking Mr. Joe Crisman. And if Crisman
came in later, when the Palace's auditorium should
be dark, he might easily be missed by Mr. Stanley
when, at the conclusion of the show, the crowd
would stream out from all sections of the theatre.
This was hurrah!
For, walking rapidly, in came Joe Crisman with
a girl, and they passed Mr. Stanley within a yard
of him without even seeing him,, which was exactly
what he had hoped for; They sat at the other end
of the eastern section of eighteenpenny seats, some
four rows behind Mr. Stanley's row. It looked as
though Providence had arranged everything at the
last moment to facilitate Mr. Paul Stanley.


_ __C ___


The screen-play was full of love and kisses,
which was probably the reason why Joe had brought
the young lady to this theatre. But Mr. Stanley
followed the plot and the emotions of the players in
a very perfunctory fashion. His mind was on other
matters. He congratulated himself on having di-
vined that Joe would buy eighteenpenny tickets,
eschewing as snobbish and as needlessly ostentatious
the more expensive seats, and, of course, never
dreaming of taking his lady friend into the shilling
section. He congratulated himself on not having,
after all, wasted a precious one-and-sixpence. He
congratulated himself on and about everything. He
had displayed a foresight and a power of planning
that not even a member of the German Gestapo
could have bettered.
Just before the termination of the night's per-
formance Mr. Stanley slipped out. He lingered in
the vicinity of the exit, patiently enduring the push-
ing of the emerging crowd, though his coat suffered
severely in this process. Then he saw Joe and
his lady come forth. He fell into step behind them.
Not until they had reached the brightly illuminated
pavement outside, which was thronged with merry,
moving people, did he surge forward and accost
them, endeavouring to throw into his voice a sug-
gestion of surprise, that, of all persons in the world,
he should find them there that night.
"Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Crisman!" he ex-
"Fancy meeting you," replied Joe dryly.
This was a trifle disconcerting, but Mr. Stanley
would not allow himself to be dismayed. "Oh, now
and then," said he, "I like to see a good show. It
stimulates the emotions." He fell into stride be-
side Mr. Crisman.
"Well, we might as well say good-night here, Mr.
Stanley," remarked Joe, coming to an abrupt halt.
"We are going up South Camp Road, and you live in
the other direction, I believe."
"Of course, of course," murmured Mr. Stanley;
"but couldn't I give you a lift in my car? I should
be delighted."
"We are taking a taxi as my car is undergoing
repairs," said Joe shortly.
"O, Joe," cried the young lady; "why not take
the car as your friend has so kindly offered? We
may have to wait some time before we get a taxi."
That did it. Joe wondered where Mr. Stanley
could possibly have procured "my car"; he had
never heard of it before. Meantime he was com-
pelled to introduce the young lady. "Miss Hepburn,
Mr. Stanley," he muttered, and they bowed. "Glad
to know you," said the lady.
"Not Katherine Hepburn?" asked Mr. Stanley
jocosely, "not the great moving-picture actress?"
"I am Clarice," laughed the girl, who was about
twenty, and pretty. Mr. Stanley again congratulated
himself. By a clever ruse he had learnt the young
lady's Christian name.
They were now standing on the edge of the
Palace's broad outer pavement and Charles, spying
them, brought his car to the spot.
"Here's the car," Mr. Stanley announced, and
Joe knew it at once for Myrtle's. He supposed that
Mr. Stanley had borrowed it for the night, though

I -

it did not dawn upon him that he was the quarry
that, in a manner of speaking, the car had been bor-
rowed to hunt down. "You two will sit in the back
seat," said Mr. Stanley, "and I will sit beside
Charles." He entered the car proudly. He would
like to have said "Home, James," but Charles's
name was not James, and it was certain that had
he pronounced the word "home," Charles would
straightway have driven towards the humble lodg-
ing house of Mr. Stanley.
Besides, he wanted to know where Miss Hep-
burn lived. So he suggested that she should give
the necessary directions, to which he listened care-
A traffic block held them up for a few minutes;
the way cleared, Charles turned up South Camp
Road, driving in carefree fashion as befitted one
who was garbed in bright blue and conscious of
being chauffeur to a small group of distinguished
persons. The car's lights, and the lights of other
cars, gaily illumined the road and brought into glar-
ing relief two dogs that seemed to have been hav-
ing an altercation in the very middle of the
thoroughfare. Charles suddenly remembered his
long-sustained ambition to run over a dog, an in-
hibited ambition, since Myrtle frowned severely
upon all such wild adventures. But Myrtle was now
far distant, the dogs were right in front of him,
there was none to say him nay, and he could com-
mit canine murder and escape before anyone could
think of taking his number. For one intoxicating
instant he decided that he would do the thing which
he had always craved to do. The next instant his
courage failed the fear of Myrtle's anger was too
powerful for any other passion or emotion to dom-
inate it. That dog never knew what saved its life
that night, as the car's steering wheel was twisted
violently by Charles, the vehicle swerving sudden-
ly to the left hand side of the road, which sloped
rather steeply towards the concrete gutter. A cou-
ple were walking lovingly along the very edge of
that slope. Naturally, they leaped for safety as
they saw the car swerve in their direction, and the
gentleman, who was a member of the working
classes, suddenly found himself sitting ignominious-
ly on the kerb, while the lady had fallen prone into






the gutter itself, which fortunately for her was
dry. Mr. Stanley emitted a yell. Sharp confused
noises from within the car indicated consternation
on the part of Mr. Crisman and Miss Hepburn.
Charles, realiairji that some sort of accident had
happened, which might be very serious was seized
with an impulse to drive on with all the possible
speed of gasolene, but Mr. Stanley shouted out to
him to stop. Mr. Stanley did not believe in taking
risks with the law, and in any case he dimly felt
that, if anything had happened, he should not be
held responsible for it.
The car was brought to a standstill, turning in
his seat Mr. Stanley observed that Joe's right arm
was round Clarice Hepburn's shoulder, and he dis-
tinctly heard Joe saying, "Don't be frightened, dar-
ling, it's all right." Here was evidence enough of
love, probably of an engagement; he had found out
all that he had desired to know. But just now he
himself was badly shaken and did not care much
who was in love with whom; besides, the couple
whom they had frightened into the gutter were
rising in a vociferous wrath before which the very
soul of Mr. Stanley shrank. Nevertheless Mr. Stan-
ley alighted from the car, knowing that he was in
present possession of it, so to speak, and that some
one would have to assume some sort of responsibil-
ity and make whatever apologies the occasion seem-
ed to demand. He alighted with great reluctance.
The man in the gutter was helping the woman to
her feet, but that did not prevent him at the same
time from addressing to Mr. Stanley many particu-
larly ill-chosen words, some of which sounded like
a threat to cut Mr. Stanley's gizzard out and also to
break his neck; what was worse, the fellow looked
hefty enough to carry out his threats.
Joe Crisman did not get out of the car, which,
Mr. Stanley felt, was extremely mean of him and
savoured of desertion. So mean, indeed, that Mr.
Stanley made up his mind to seek again the shelter
of the car's interior forthwith; he wanted to put
something tangible between him and the irate giant
- the man now seemed to Mr. Stanley to be at least
seven feet tall whose one desire at the moment
apparently was to see the size and colour of Mr.
Stanley's gizzard. But a little crowd of persons had









120 Barry Street, Kingston, Jamaica.








I ~_

~~ ~ ~__

-- -



gathered, and in this crowd was a black, autho-
ritative-looking person with a long stick who, un-
invited, took charge of all affairs and demanded de-
tails in an incisive tone of voice. "Who does this
car belong to?" he questioned, and Mr. Stanley, who,
on a normal occasion, would have been glad to give
the impression that he owned it, said at once that
it belonged to Miss Myrtle Broglie, and that the
chauffeur's name was Charles.
"Let me see your license?" requested the man
with the stick, going up to the car, and Charles
obediently took the license from his pocket and
handed it to his interlocutor.
Here Mr. Stanley thought that a word or two
from him might be useful if spoken impressively.
"My good man," he began, whereupon the gentle-
man with the stick turned sharply upon him with
the query: "Who you calling' your good man?"
"My friend," amended Mr. Stanley, and was in-
terrupted with the assertion: "I am no friend of
yours, sir."
"Well, if I am not to be allowed to speak," be-
gan Mr. Stanley plaintively, but again he was stop-
ped short. "You will speak when you are spoken to,
probably at the police station where I am going to
take you," said the authoritative person. "I am a
plain-clothes policeman, you understand, an' if you

J. E. KERR & Co. (suC.) LTD.














and your driver try to kill people in the road, it
is my business to arrest you."
Arrest! The word rang like a knell in Mr.
Stanley's ears. Was there no way of placating this
officer of the law whose eyes flashed such baleful
lightning? Something must be done, some magic
word be spoken, to avert the threatening danger.
"I am a journalist!" he exclaimed, not being able
to think of anything else, but the policeman scorn-
fully replied that that wasn't his fault and then
turned to interrogate the fellow who had, with his
lady companion, been forced to seek safety in a
concrete gutter. But here Mr. Crisman, at long
last as it seemed to Mr. Stanley, descended from the
car and addressed the representative of law and
"Officer," said Mr. Crisman quietly, "I saw
everything that happened. The chauffeur had to
turn his car towards the gutter suddenly, otherwise
he would have run over that dog there, and killed
it. And it doesn't look as if this gentleman and
lady have suffered anything, though they had to
jump out of the way."
"What about our clothes?" the male member of
the angry couple demanded truculently. "Besides,
how you can know whether we broke any bone or
"Your mouth don't break, anyhow," unfeeling-
ly remarked the policeman, who resented the other's
interruption. Crisman had spoken respectfully, and
with due regard to the majesty of the Police Force.
And the man and woman who were complaining
were obviously members of the lower classes. The
plain-clothes policeman was a snob. He did not be-
lieve in equality. He did not believe, either, that
the man and woman had suffered anything, and he
thought little of their clothes. He decided at once
upon his policy.
"Well," said he, "the chauffeur was right to
avoid killing the dawg, an' it seem that he was
driving quite safely. If this man and this woman
didn't jump so sudden, perhaps nothing would have
happenedd to them. But if they think they have a
case, they can bring up the chauffeur in the court.
There's nothing to arrest 'im for." Whereupon the
male -omplainant, who had hoped for a few shil-
lings at least as compensation for fright, said loud-
ly of the policeman that "you couldn't expect jus-
tice from a nagur," but subsided on the policeman
offering to arrest him for abusive language if he
would only be so kind as to repeat his words.
All this while Charles had not opened his
mouth, he had been trembling with fright at the
very thought of arrest. Gone completely now was
every vestige of his long-cherished wish to run over
a dog, gone was every desire to defy anything that
savoured of law and order. Mr. Crisman thanked
the policeman, who was pleased to have settled
everything to his own satisfaction. Mr. Stanley got
back into the car. The crowd dispersed. Charles
proceeded on his way, ard a few minutes later Mr.
Stanley dropped Joe and Miss Hepburn at the lat-
ter's house, and did not even offer to wait and take
Joe home. He merely begged Charles to drive slow-
ly and carefully as they moved away, and breathed
a prayer of gratitude when Je found himself back
at his residence once more. The next morning he
went round to Mr. Burrell's lodging, to inform that
gentleman, casually, of the discovery he had made
in regard to Joe and Miss Hepburn. He was in-
formed that Mr. Burrell had left on the previous
evening, unexpectedly, for Manchester.
This was disappointing, but the news, thought
Mr. Stanley, could wait for a few days, when Mr.
Burrell should have returned.
Then Monday morning dawned and the news-
papers shrieked across their front pages the news
that war had broken out between England and Ger-
many. That would bring Mr. Burrell immediately
back to town, was the confident conclusion of Mr.
Stanley. But on Monday evening Jane received a
telegram saying that her brother was ill, had had
a slight stroke, and would she come down to Man-
chester? Mr. Stanley heard and his heart fell. All
his planning and his exertions had been wasted.
He would not dare whisper to a sick man what he
had discovered, at the risk of going to prison for
aiding and abetting in the injury or death of pedes-
trians. Life, said Mr. Stanley to himself, was but
one wretched thing after another. Many persons
who heard him curse Hitler with a personal bitter-
ness for the next few days did not guess that the
elderly gentleman was really coupling the German
dictator with a fate that he considered personally


MYRTLE looked about her, and was charmed. The
single-storied house stood on a rising that com
manded a wide view of the countryside; it was large
and rambling, having been built long years ago
and solid after the fashion of such country houses
Mr. Burrell had bought it some time since and done
nothing to it, but his "boys" had kept up the flowe:
garden in front of it, and in the Manchester soi

flowering shrubs that would have attained but a
modest height in Kingston were here as giants of
their kind and covered in a flame of magenta and
scarlet. There were roses too, beauties of their
species, and the view swept away for long distances,
ending always in a clear blue horizon. Above
glowed an azure sky flecked here and there by light
white clouds; towards the east now was the fiery
sun which, in another couple of hours, would reach
the zenith and inflame the landscape with as much
heat as could be felt in a region so high above sea-
level that it never became anything as warm as the
coast and the valleys below in summer.
It was Sunday forenoon. Myrtle had come down
to see her uncle. Her mother had been with Mr.
Burrell for some days, having set out for Manches-
ter the day after receiving the telegram which said
that her brother had fallen ill. Mrs. Broglie had
remained with her brother until Saturday, by
which time he had fairly well recovered, though he
was not at all quite well and (though he did not yet
fully realise it) would never again be quite the same
man that he had been before.
The doctor had put the matter tersely. "Your
brother," he had said to Mrs. Broglie, "has been a
hard worker all the days of his life, and never
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have had more on his mind than usual --perhaps
he was too preoccupied with this war and its prob-
able effect on his business. The stroke he has suf-
fered is a slight one, nothing whatever to be
alarmed about, but now he will have to take it easy.
If he doesn't, he will have another and a very much
worse attack."
He insisted that Mr. Burrell should keep bed
until, at least, a week had passed. And he strongly
counselled that someone else should be got to at-
tend to his business.
All this Jane had laboriously detailed by letter
to her husband, and this letter had been handed
over to Myrtle. That young lady had promptly
made up her mind.
She applied for and obtained two weeks' holi-
day leave from her firm of employers. She wrote
to tell her mother that she would be coming to Man-
chester on the approaching Sunday. She sent her
car for her mother on Saturday, and asked Geoffrey
Dawson to drive her down. Mrs. Broglie had no
hesitation about leaving her brother, as there was
a trained nurse in the house, and, also, the wife of
Mr. Burrell's illegitimate son. Mr. Burrell had
done well by this son and his wife expected that
there would be something more for her husband
later on. She was a sensible and handy woman
who treated Jane as a superior, and Jane had con-
fidence in her. Therefore Jane felt she could safely
leave her brother for a night, until Myrtle arrived.
She also completely acquiesced in Myrtle's decision
to take charge of the situation on her arrival.
"What a lovely view, Geoff!" exclaimed Myrtle,
as with young Dawson she alighted from the car
and looked about her. "You know, I am sure now
that I can live in the country, in a place like this,
so long as I can get to Kingston any time I like?
And Kingston is not more than two hours away
too .... And you will be here.'
Geoffrey Dawson smiled happily. On their way
from Kingston he had asked Myrtle to say plainly
whether she would marry him. Her answer had
been decisive. She had made up her mind. Her
uncle's illness seemed to have brought matters to a
"Yes, Geoff," she said; "I.love .you, and I
kripw yoa love me. And. Uneld Bill' won't object.
now when we tell him, for he will have to depend
on you, and I will take care of him here. Besides,
Crisman has a girl of his own Mr. Stanley told
me all about it and he wouldn't give her up for
me, even if I wanted him. But I want you alone."
She was seated beside him when she said this,
and he was driving. He bent over and kissed her,
and after that they talked-any amount of romantic
nonsense in which the reader will not be in the
least interesteL -
And now that they had arrived, Myrtle's prac-
tical sense reasserted itself. When married she
would live in Manchester, but would make frequent
trips to Kingston weekly trips if necessary. And
Geoffrey would manage Uncle Bill's business; which,
though Myrtle did not herself clearly understand at
the moment what she meant, meant really that Myr-
tle believed that she would ultimately manage the
business through Geoff! She had not yet realized
that, in matters of business, Geoff Dawson would al-
ways have his own way.
They were taken in to see Mr. Burrell by his
son's wife, who deferentially addressed Myrtle as
"Miss Myrtle," an. arraigemuen which Myrtle Brog-
lie regarded as entirely appropriate. Mr. Burrell
was reclining in bed propped up on pillows and
reading a newspaper. Had he been allowed, he
would have been up and about already. His brain
was not affected, his voice was unimpaired, though
the shock had rendered him unconscious for a couple
of hours. If he obeyed the doctor's orders he would
live and be able to do some work for years and
His eyes lighted up when he caught sight of
Myrtle. "I was so glad to hear yesterday morning
from your mother," he said, "that you was coming
down to look after me; I wanted somebody just like
you. And Dawson brought you, eh? Your mother
didn't say anything about him."
"She didn't know anything about him, Uncle
Bill," Myrtle calmly answered, kissing her uncle
affectionately. "Only yesterday I asked Geoff to
bring me. I knew you would be glad to see him."
"I are," said Mr. Burrell, holding out his hand
to the young man. "How is Crisman?"
"I haven't seen him for a week," said Myrtle.
"He's busy attending to his work, sir," quickly
interpolated Geoffrey. "He does not neglect your in-
"No,' agreed Mr. Burrell, "I don't suppose he
would do that; in fact I are sure he wouldn't. I
like-him, and I treat him well. But he don't have
work to. do every night,,surely?"
To this' neither Myrtle nor Geoffrey made any
reply, and then Mr. Dawson turned the conversation.
"I am going back to Kingston tonight, Mr. Burrell,"
he remarked, "but I will come back next Saturday
afternoon I have a half-holiday on Saturdays. you
know and go over my work here till I am ready

to start back to Kingston. The sooner I get into it
the better, now that you are a little indisposed."
"Don't worry about me, me son; I are quite
well already. But you know how doctors go on.
Still, I'll be glad for you to come down until you
can come for good, which won't be long now. You
show the proper spirit."
"Well, we mustn't talk any more about work,"
said Myrtle decisively. "Uncle Bill has fixed up
things so well in advance, I am sure, that every-
thing must be going all right though he is in bed."
"You bet," concurred Mr. Burrell, well pleased
with the compliment. "But Geoff here will be of
much assistance to me; otherwise," he added grim-
ly, "I wouldn't want him."
Mr. Dawson and Mr. Burrell got on famously
that day, though Geoff could see that the older man
was wondering why Crisman had not been the one
to bring down Myrtle, and why Joe had not yet
come to see him. To give Mr. Crisman his due, he
would have been there that day, but Dawson had
told him that he was taking down Myrtle and Cris-
man knew that Geoff would want to be with Myrtle.
Besides, he had written two or three letters to Mr.
Burrell, though the latter would not be allowed to
see them before Monday.
"Joe said he was coming to see you next Satur-

day," Geoffrey volunteered at last; *"ihy he hasif
come before is because he understood that you were
not to be disturbed about business. Your sister
wrote to tell him so."
"Oh, now I understand," said Mr. Burrell; but
he did not look quite satisfied.
In the afternoon, while the old man was dozing,
Myrtle and her fiance went for a walk. "I looked
into the room Joe used to occupy when he was work-
ing down here, Geoff," she said, "but it wouldn't do
for you at all as it is; it is not properly furnished.
I will see about that. And when we are married
and we are living here-"
"I think we would prefer our own house, Myr-
tle," suggested Geoff quietly.
"Then who is to look after the old man? It
isn't now like it was when he was quite well, and I
don't want that son of his and his wife to come
here: that wouldn't do at all. You can't trust peo-
ple, Geoff; they might worm their way into me
uncle's affections, and then you don't know
what might happen. No. We'd better live here, for
some time anyhow; you will see that it is all right.
Poor Uncle Bill won't interfere with us, and he will
do everything I tell him I know."
(Continued on Page 68)



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RTLE A D MEY Vin; it was a question of tactics: tactics depend
Y L N N I upon general strategy, don't you see?"

(('Cotilaurcd from Page 65)
"But how can we let him know we are en-
gaged?" enquired Geoff dubiously. "That might give
him another stroke, he's so fixed on Joe and you."
"It will be all right," said Myrtle; "he will just
come to know about it. Leave it to me." And Geoff
had to be content with that
The rolling land stretched far away; they could
see fields planted out in citrus fruit, the dark green
leaves of the coffee, hundreds of cattle browsing in
pastures, and it was cool, the atmo-phere stimulat-
ing, and the peasants. that they met as they strolled
along were simple and courteous and smiling, seem-
ing to admit without hesitation their superior posi-
tion in the social order of things, In Kingston the
lower classes, as Myrtle thought of them, were some-
times inclined to be cheeky. Here, it appeared, this
modern disease of bumptiousness was unknown,
The dark faces that they saw wore pleasant expres-
sions. The dark figures were well clothed and
seemed well-fed and prosperous.
"And to think I used to say I didn't like the
country," cried Myrtle more than once; "but," she
added shrewdly, "perhaps I like it now because I feel
that a part of it will belong to me some day."
"You can't be certain of anything in this world,"
prosaically observed Geoff Dawson.
"I am certain of this," said Myrtle with de-
Geoffrey left her at about eight o'clock that
night, after dinner, to return to Kingston. At the
end of the month he would take up his residence in
this central parish, and as shortly after as possible
he would marry Myrtle. This was arranged between
them before he set out for the city that evening.
The next day he informed his friend, Joe Cris-
man, that Myrtle had accepted him, but that Mr.
Burrell did not know of it, and must not know of
it for a little lhil.: yet. He told Jane and Vincent
also, and this news was corroborated by a letter
from Myrtle. It was to be expected that Vincent
would pass the information on to Mr. Stanley, and
Vin was not surprised that Mr. Stanley looked upon
himself as having made the match between the two
young people.
"You may not have understood, Vin, why I so
persistently praised Geoffrey Dawson to Mr. Bur-
rell," said Mr. Stanley, "but that was part of my
general strategy."
"Why strategy?" enquired Vincent.
"I employ a military term because we are now
at war," said Mr. Stanley, "But, if you prefer it, I
will say plan. You see, I perceived at once that
Myrtle was attracted to Dawson and Dawson to
Myrtle: it was of consequence to be perfectly clear
as to that."
"Yes, I thought meself that they were in love
with one another."
"The next step," continued Mr. Stanley, "was
to discover Mr. Burrell's reactions to such a situa-
tion, and to act accordingly."
"That was not a question of strategy, my dear

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Mr. Broglie said he did, but did not.
"Very well; we now know that Myrtle and Daw-
son are engaged. We know that Crisman, whom
Mr. Burrell wanted to marry Myrtle, has had the ex-
ecrable taste to prefer another girl: I discovered
that myself at the grave personal risk of being sent
to prison for nearly running over a man."
"So you told me."
"Then there is that fellow, Scrofield, who, when
he learnt that Myrtle was a young lady of great ex-
pectations, desired her hand in matrimony."
j "He has never said so to me."
"But I know it, Vin: do you doubt my word?"
"You know I wouldn't do that, Stan," insisted
Mr. Broglie in a tone suggesting pained surprise.
"I know you wouldn't, but Scrofield did aspire
to Myrtle's hand; he, however, may now be dis-
missed as a discarded suitor. And Mr. Crisman has
also put himself out of the running. Therefore
there is now but ycang Dawson left, and he has
been accepted by the party principally concerned.
But Mr. Burrell has not yet accepted him, and it
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man, she will be willing to give up her uncle's
money if it come to that. After all, money is not
"I am not at all sure of that," said Mr. Stan-
ley sagely; "it might almost have been written that
'when my father and mother forsake me, then my
purse will take me up.' I have known what it was
to lack five shillings, and I can assure you, Vin,
that, with the exception of yourself, I had no friend
to whom to turn for the loan of that small amount.
That is to say, I had friends. And they had the
amount. But they manifested the utmost objection
to my turning to them; and I do not believe that
anywoman can be happy certainly ct not Myrtle -
if she is convinced that she has abandoned a large
fortune for love. There would be times when she
would think the lost money worth more than the
love and that might be true. I want to prevent
Myrtle and Dawson having to suffer so sad an ex-
perience. Hence my intended resort to tactics."
"Very good, Stan, very good," warmly agreed
Mr. Broglie. "But what is your tactics?"
"Those," said Mr. Stanley portentously, '"you
must give me time to think out."
The truth was that, just then, Mr. Stanley did
not know what he should do. Myrtle was not there
to suggest any line of action to him, and his plan


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to discover the truth about the Crisman ilve affair
had f'rl the tin c heiug exhausted his Ingenuity. Hie
could not now dare \\rie to Mr Burrell about it:
ht had no sort 't excuse to offer foir such a letter.
But. he thoutihlt. perhiap Mliss Emma might be help-
ful in such an impasse he would drop round at Miss
Emma'a and hear what .he m.ght have to suggest.
She wa. a fool. but even from a ifoi..l wisdom might
somttimnles be drawn lIy a thinker truly atrute.
On Wednesday afternoon, then, Mr. Stanley paid
lis-i Enlimi a call. and tould that angular spinster
depressed in spii its and feeling sorely negle.ted. It
ste-emed to her that during the last week or two
she had fallen into the background of the world cf
Broglie and Burrell: at one tiite almost a central
figure uf the Brogie circle. she had non. bteconi
sonleone h.. -ellleed t, hanve b hen forgotten. "It's
tb.r cay of the? world che mu i-ed to hlersi-lt contin-
ually. "NMyrtlE have a lot ot young ticn couLing to
see h r. nrot\. so shi- r.aLi't b..th-r think of mne: and
Jane i-. thinking cif Mlyrtle. an' I am too poor for
anybody to want my ('-npany any niore' \ll. I
should have% expected it I am a Ionely leinale with
a disgrace atta-hed to lui nalne. and it I was to
die tomorrow. tnolbody would miss nie -- not even
Jane." \helreupip he "would weep a littl-. and
wonder when again -he would Ibe asked by any of
the Bioglie! to driip in to "have a hbile on Sun.
day-. of course. she wouldd always drop in wiith,:ut
an invitation. and did but nw she 'w.as thinking
of cr'her special and important oti..asions.
So when she heard on Weduesday afternoon the-
vI.ice ot Mr Stanley outside her room. her he-art
leapt with delight Mr. Stanley only 'cameu to see her
when great events were oc'.ur lng or inipending.
He %.as. as it were. an ambassador of the higher
ord, r. mainly self-app.:.-nted She hurried out to
meet him. Onme again they sat in the old. dilapi-
dated front-piazza of the second story of the house:
once again they sat alert: and oni:e again Mr. Stan-
ley launched forth on a reLital I;f MNlrtle's affairs.
"Then they're actually elnage?' gasped Miss
Eumma. "an' nobody ever said a word to mne"'
"You haven't been round to the. house since
Sunday." Mr. Stanley pointed our. "and events
move fast in this changing wc-rld. I only heard
ahout it today .And lr. Burrell himself doeS; not
yet know."
"Who will tell hiiu" enquired Miss Emma.
Somebc-w I don't think he wants Da.1Iso for Myr-
".That is the problem." admitted Mr. Stanley

"If he is not well disp.~ed

to the match, he might

disinherit Myrtle, and I think with you that he is
not well disposed to the match."
"But they can't keep it a secret all the time,"
.11s Eninma pointed out.
**That is oh\ oust-." agreed Mr. Stanley.
".An' if they keep it a secret too long, and he
find it out fI:i himself. he will be vexed like any-
thing." said Mliss Emma positively.
"That is what I am also afraid of," said Mr.
-"Yet they all afraid to tell him, I am sure,"
said M1iss Emma.
"Natuiially." said Mr. Stanley.
"Then the only person who had better tell him
is you NMr Stanley."
i"lrh, "'"
"Ye-s. don't you say he think a lot of you? And
\oi, could soit of lead up to it like, with a hint
here. an' a hint there, till he believes he find it out
all f'..r hminelt an' ask them about it; then, as he is
really fti..d of Myrtle. It may be all right. They can
tell him that they nere waiting till he was better to
tell him. I don't see as how anybody else but you
C.an d,' it." concluded Miss Emma.
"Ever''thing seemn- to devolve upon me," said
.M1. Stanley. yet of late. having undertaken so many
deli-at.e affairs, be had ceased to feel terrified about
th-em and eL\er spoke of them in a slightly pomp-
: and self-satisfied sort of way. They had all
trnmed on ex,.ellintly well handled that Mr. Stanley
had come to believe that, but for him, nothing satis-

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factory would or could be done affecting the happi-
ness of Myrtle. Still, being constitutionally timid,
he now fell back upon the obvious. "You see, Miss
Emma," he said, "Mr. Burrell is unwell in Manches-
ter, while I am in Kingston; these physical difficul-
"What's to prevent you from goin' down to
Manchester at the end of this week with any of the
young men going?" asked Miss Emma. "Beg one of
them to take you; he won't refuse. An' then you
can talk to Mr. Burrell."
"Do you know," exclaimed Mr. Stanley, "that
that is just what I was thinking myself, only I
didn't like to suggest it? You have echoed my own
thoughts, Miss Emma. You have echoed my
Miss Emma did not believe him, and she was
right. She felt certain it was she who had point-
ed out the good and perfect way to Mr. Stanley. But
she.did not much mind his taking the credit for this
if she could serve Myrtle, so she beamed upon him
and clapped her hands, while he murmured: "Of
course, of course; it is one tactic of my general
strategy, a tactic of importance." She did not un-
derstand this, but concluded that Mr. Stanley was
murmuring to himself an apology for lying.
"I am going to tell the Miss Scrofields as soon as
I can," Miss Emma hurried on; "I want them to
know that Myrtle didn't want their old father. Fancy
a man as old as he having the forwardness to want
to marry a young girl! These old men getting quite

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"Do you think Myrtle would wish you to inform
the Scroflelds?" Mr. Stanley dubiously enquired.
"Why should she object if she is engaged? Other
people know already. It might be as well that I
should tell those two stuck-up young ladies; be-
sides," naively confessed Miss Emma, "I would love
to be the first to do it."
"Very well," consented Mr. Stanley pontifically.
"you have my permission to do it."
Miss Emma sniffed, but said nothing. "When
you going to Manchester?" she questioned.
"At the end of the week, with either Dawson or
Crisman: I am sure that neither of them would re-
fuse me a lift, especially Crisman, for I gave him a
lift to his intended's house over a week ago, and
nearly went to prison on that account."
"Prison? You?" cried Miss Emma, her excited
attitude and the look on her face suggesting that
that must have been a very pleasant experience in-
deed for Mr.' Stanley. "Tell me all about it, Mr.
"It is now of no consequence," said Mr. Stanley,
rising. "I take risks continually for the benefit of
my young friends, and make nothing of them. A
man must not live selfishly in this world, Miss Em-
ma. It is not for that that we were created."
"You are right, Mr. Stanley," said Miss Emma,
"but for what was we created?"
As Mr. Stanley did not know, he pretended not
to have heard the question. He hastily bade her good
afternoon. And by the same time next day he had
made all arrangements to accompany Mr. Crisman to
Manchester on the approaching Saturday.

"' THOROUGHLY approve of these rural surround-
1ings," said Mr. Stanley, as he greeted Myrtle on
the stone platform of the flight of steps that led up
to the main entrance of the house; "one can be
happy here."
Saying which, Mr. Stanley made up his mind
that no power on earth could induce him to live in
the country, though he would be willing to visit it
often, provided that a hostess like Myrtle would be
there to receive him and make him comfortable.
But he knew that if Myrtle married Dawson, an
event which he regarded as now certain, she would
have to live in Manchester, and his kindly intention
was to approve most thoroughly of Manchester so as
to make Myrtle feel that it was indeed an earthly
paradise. He himself was a townsman, one who
loved the dust and the heat, the noise and confusion
of Kingston, where he was, as he felt, in the very
centre of affairs. There too was his old chum Vin-
cent, and a few other persons who looked upon him
as an oracle. But if he was to be successful in all
his efforts to bring about a happy marriage between
the two young people whom he had now, unknown
to them, taken under his palernal wing, he must
pretend, that life in the open spaces was the only
true life for intelligent human beings. Himself, he
much preferred a street to all the open spaces in
the-wprld. Those who wanted open spaces could
have them.
"Come in, Mr. Paul," gushed Myrtle. "and you,
too, Joe; I am glad to see you both. Geoff Is coming
down later; he'll be here at about four o'clock. I
have fixed up two of the spare rooms for you gen-
tlemen but they're not well furnished. You must
take it in p;icni, style"
"Anything will do for me, my dear," Mr. Stan-
ley assured her, "and the same is true of Mr. Cris-
man here. I can speak for him."
At this speech Myrtle smiled slightly, as did Joe
Crisman' also. Both noticed how Mr. Stanley now
spoke as though he were a sort of providence.
"Come this way," she said, leading them to their

rooms. "When you 'ave-have-washed up you can
join uncle; he's expecting you."
"You told him anything yet about your engage-
ment to Geoff?" Crisman whispered to her, for fear
lest his words might reach his employer's ears.
'"No," she replied quietly, "not yet. I am wait-
ing." She hesitated. "are you going to tell him any-
thing about yourself, Joe?"
"Well," said Mr. Crisman slowly, as the three
of them stood before the bedroom he was to occupy,
"perhaps I'd better wait a little too."
Mr. Stanley overheard and said nothing. A good
part of modern strategy, he reflected, was the ele-
ment of surprise.
Mr. Burrell was sitting in an easy chair on his
western verandah, gazing out at the broad acres he
had acquired with the passing years, looking at
his cattle and computing their rising value in these
times of war, feeling better than he had done a few
'days before, but now, at last, conscious that some
of his old strength and energy had gone and that
he could hardly ever be again the man he was.
SSomehow he.didn't mind this so much now as he
would have done but a few months before. Myrtle
had now been with him for several days, was al-
ready making decisions for him, surrounded him
with every attention, listened to him patiently when
he talked about himself and his early struggles
and emphasised his own remarkable qualities. This
was soothing, especially as he felt tired, though he
would not confess this to anyone. He knew that
Crisman had arrived, and would be seeing him
within a few minutes. He wondered what Cris-
man would do today; he would be with Myrtle:
would he propose to her? And would Myrtle accept
him? Mr. Burrell had tried to talk to Myrtle about
Joe since she had been at Heatheombe the name
of Mr. Burrell's Manchester property but he had
noticed that she did not seem interested. She had


turned the conversation whenever it had veered
round to Joe and herself. This had made Mr. Bur-
rell doubtful as to his plan's success. But he was
tired, and he would not worry about the matter too
much at present. In fact, he felt that he could not.
And he was by no means certain that he cared so
much about that plan now.
He welcomed Joe and Mr. Stanley cordially.
"Glad you came to see me," he said to both men.
"I might have passed out, you know."
This was the first time he had made such an
admission, had even hinted that he understood that
he had escaped from danger.
"Nonsense, sir," cried Crisman, "nothing much
was the matter with you."
"So I thought meself, Joe, at first; but yester-
day the doctor was plainer with me than he was
before. He knows I are getting better, so he talk
out plain to warn me. I have to leave me business
largely in the hands of you and Dawson now,
though I will still be here to help."
"And I'll be here too, Uncle Bill," interpolated
Myrtle firmly. "I am going to make your business
my business."
"You see, gentlemen," laughed Mr. Burrell, "that
I got a boss in my old age, a female boss too, and
that's the worst kind. How do you like it, Joe?"
"Men let women think they are running the
show," said Joe pleasantly, "that's best for peace'
"Think!" exclaimed Myrtle scornfully. "Why
can't women run a show as well as men?"
"Look at that mouse," cried Crisman suddenly,
and Myrtle shrieked and ran.
"That's perhaps why," answered Joe, with a
laugh, and Myrtle realized that she had been
mocked. She tossed her head and walked away.
(Continued on Page 72)




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(Continued from Page 70)
"You better follow her, Joe," smiled Mr. Bur-
rell, "she'll need a man to keep away mice."
Crisman having obeyed this order, Mr. Stanley,
who had settled himself comfortably in an old
leather-backed, leather-bottomed armchair, and who
had himself started fearfully when Crisman had
cried out about the mouse, thought that this was as
good a time as any other to introduce the subject
that was uppermost in his mind. He would do so
by careful degrees. At the slightest sign of annoy-z
ance on Mr. Burrell's part, he decided, he would
switch away from the contentious matter and dis-
cuss instead the glorious weather they were having
just then in Manchester, and the fine property own-
ed by Mr. Burrell.
For Mr. Stanley, although a dyed-in-the-wool
townsman, could not but admit to himself as he
lolled in his arm-chair and looked to the front
and to the right of him, that Mr. Burrell's property
was indeed a fine and well-kept one, a landed pos-
session of which its proprietor had excellent reason
to be proud.
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stood the large garage in which Mr. Burrell kept his
trucks and the two cars which he and his assistants
used for making journeys about the parish- and is-
land. The garage was a far more recent structure
than the house itself, with its painted wooden walls
and green-painted corrugated iron roof. Near to the
garage were stables, for Mr. Burrell owned a few
horses which he carefully looked after; he bred rid-
ing horses and sold them at. a fair price, for in spite
of motor traffic there were still people in Manchester
who loved horse flesh and who liked to ride.
The land spread away, gently rising and falling;
an orange grove would be carefully fenced off from
the depredatione'6f cattle, the oranges at this time
of the year being' for the most part still green and
small, although on some of the trees there glowed
here and there clusters of golden fruit. More than
one pond with lichen-covered water could be seen
from the verandah, with cattle standing in them
knee-deep and ruminating. Among the pastures
other cattle wandered slowly or stood motionless
gazing at nothing. A road paved with macadam ran
through the property up to the garage and beyond,
it was part of the road which, branching off, led
direct to the front steps of Mr. Burrell's home. Huge
trees sprang upwards here and there, thick-limb-
ed and umbrageous; clumps of fruit trees were to
be seen, and on the hillocks to the left, which bound-
ed Mr. Stanley's range of vision, the dark glossy
green of coffee shrubs was visible. Labourers moved
here and there slowly, but evidently attending to
their business, for they knew that the master's eye
was upon them; Mr. Stanley also thought he could
see in he distance some labourers' houses, and he
noticed with deep appreciation the atmosphere of
peace and quietness that pervaded the whole plan-
tation. He himself felt at peace with everyone and
everything just then, but not for an instant did the
matter uppermost in his mind cease to urge him to
continue his efforts to bring Mr. Burrell to take a
favourable view of the engagement between Myrtle
and young Geoffrey Dawson.
For the moment, however, he continued to speak
of Myrtle and Joseph Crisman.
"Those young people like one another," he ob-
served generally; "they are likely to be good friends.
That is excellent, if Crisman is to look after some
of your business."
"It would be better if they should get married,"
said Mr. Burrell frankly. "Friends are one thing,
but married people know it is to their interest to
work together. You never got married, Mr., Stan-
"Never," said Mr. Stanley, "I have too much
"But, I can assure you, Mr. Burrell" Mr.
Stanley had just remembered that Mr. Burrell had
been married, and was prone to believe that every-
hlfng he had done was the perfection of good
sense "I can assure you that I sometimes doubt
whether I have been so sensible after all. Without
marriage how can a man have a home? How can
a man have a niece?"
"You don't need to be married to have a niece,"
Mr. Burrell pointed out.
"Of course, of course. Never having been mar-
ried and I see now that that was a mistake I
tend to get confused when discussing these intimate
subjects. But I was best man at Vincent's wedding.
Did you ever know that?"
"You have, told me so yourself over an' over."
'I am so glad."
Silence fell for a little while. Mr. Stanley felt
that his tactical plan had rather miscarried, though
he could not exactly say how that had happened.
It was Mr. Burrell who reintroduced the topic
they had been talking about. "If Myrtle was to
marry Joe," he said, "I would be happy. They are
made for one another."
"Are you sure of that?" asked Mr. Stanley,
eagerly, determined now to stick to the Joe-Geoffrey-
Myrtle line so long as Mr. Burrell did not seem to
"Don't you think so?" asked Mr. Burrell.
"Well, since you ask my opinion, Mr. Burrell, I

must say that it is not quite the same as yours.
You see, two young people may like one another,
but that is not the same thing as love. And if one
should have fallen in love with somebody else be-
fore meeting the other, what is he to do? You
can't force love, you know. It, it, it, it is like the
wind which, as you yourself know, bloweth as It
listeth. We have scriptural authority for believing
"You mean you believe Crisman you -aid 'he'
is in love with somebody else besides Myrtle?"
"Yes. I fancy that he was in love with another
girl before he met Myrtle; otherwise, of course, he
couldn't have helped falling in love with Myrtle.
But if he is in love with somebody else, he will be-
lieve that she suits him better than Myrtle, and
you and I could hardly say that she doesn't. Do you
agree with me?"
Mr. Stanley asked this question with the anxious
mien of one prepared to change his opinion it a
man of Mr. Burrell's wide experience and financial
standing should take another view. He was not
feeling at all comfortable just now.
"But Joe didn't say a word about it to me,"
-muttered Mr. Burrell; "that's what I can't under-
"Ah, you must make allowances." Mr. Stanley
now felt more confident. Mr. Burrell had not ex-
plicitly disagreed with him. Had rather, it seemed,
shown a disposition to agree.
"A young man like Crisman," he pressed on.
"would naturally think twice before differing from
you in anything. So would I. You are a man to
be followed; what you think is right commands uni-
, yersal attention. Crisman would hesitate, delay:
that is what I would do myself. But I fancy he
has been in love with a Miss Hepburn for some time
now, and of course he would have told you about
it some day."
"So you know the girl, eh? How?"
"Slightly. A most estimable young lady. one
that you will be pleased to meet."
Mr. Stanley was glad Mr. Burrell did not
again ask him how he had come to know Miss Hep-
burn. He now perceived that that "how" would be
rather difficult to explain.
"Then there is the case of Myrtle. I believe
she is very fond of Dawson," Mr. Stanley went on.
"Or he is fond of her," commented Mr. Burrell
"That is not surprising, considering what and
who Myrtle is. Everybody is fond of her. But" -
here Mr. Stanley brought his broad lines of strategy
into play "but I don't think that Myrtle would
have given any thought to Geoffrey if she hadn't
seen how much you approved of him. You showed
everyone, when you decided that he could be use-
ful to you; that you had a high opinion of him;
and you mustn't be surprised if other people think
that what is good enough for you is good enough
for them too. That is only natural. It Is, In fact,
"So you are putting the whole thing on me. Mr.
Stanley," remarked Mr. Burrell good-humouredly.
"Can you blame me?" cried Mr. Stanley. greatly
heartened by Mr. Burrell's tone. "I am sure that if
you said plainly to Myrtle that Geoffrey Dawson
isn't good enough for her, she would drop him like a
hot potato."
Mr. Stanley devoutly hoped that Mr. Burrell
would not be so foolish as to try to denigrate Geof-
frey to Myrtle: he feared the consequences to
Mr. Burrell. That gentleman also thought for a mo-
ment. Perhaps he agreed completely with Mr. Stau-
ley's apprehensions. He wanted no clash of will
with Myrtle.
"Well," he- said at length, "we older people
make plans for the younger, but if the younger ones
want to go their own way, maybe it is better for
us not to try to prevent them."
"I had never thought of that." said Mr. Stan-
ley mendaciously, "hibt now that you have put the
matter so clearly I am bound to agree with you.
Still, I am certain that any young couple would fol-
low your guidance to any extent. In this case, of





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course, you have approved of both young men, or
you would not employ them."
"I are not marrying them," said Mr. Burrell,
and laughed as though he had made a good joke.
Mr. Stanley also laughed heartily. He felt like
laughing. It seemed to him that he was winning his
battle without the loss of a single word.
Mr. Burrell again fell into thought, and Mr.
Stanley discreetly did not interrupt the flow of his
reflections. "You know," said Mr. Burrell at length,
"I have been guessing what you tell me for some
time now? Only, I didn't care to say anything about
"Is there anything that escapes you?" asked Mr.
Stanley, as though in ecstasies over Mr. Burrell's
powers of perception. "I wouldn't venture to ad-
vise you, but if I were you I would let the young
people know you have seen what's what all the time
and don't object to it. That will make them know
once more that nobody can throw dust in your eyes.
If I had had your financial ability, Mr. Burrell,
your insight into practical affairs, I might have been
a rich man." Mr. Stanley paused for a moment,
then proceeded firmly. "But I always preferred
matters of the pure intellect. I am a philosopher,
and I don't regret it."
"Why should you, sir?" asked Mr. Burrell re-
spectfully. He didn't exactly know what a philoso-
pher was, but guessed it meant someone who cared
nothing about money but devoted himself to studying
the stars or something of the sort. He had for some
time been certain that, at first, he had greatly un-
derrated Mr. Stanley. One should be careful not to
think meanly of philosophers, especially when they
paid high verbal tributes to successful men of the
Here Myrtle appeared again on the verandah
and brought to Mr. Stanley a large rum-punch. The
ice in it clinked pleasantly against the sides of the
glass; its odour smote Mr. Stanley's olfactory nerves
delightfully. "Uncle Bill mustn't take anything
strong to drink," said Myrtle; "but you must be
thirsty after your long drive, Mr. Paul."
"Thoughtful, always thoughtful," murmured Mr.
Stanley, who secretly hoped that Myrtle would in-
deed be henceforth always thoughtful for others,
but doubted it. He took the glass and sipped its
contents. "Perfect," was his comment.
"How is Joe getting on, young lady?" enquired
Mr. Burrell.
"So-so. He's in your office looking over the
"Not looking at you, eh?"
"He must look after your business, uncle:"
"And you don't mind?"
Myrtle glanced apprehensively at Mr. Stanley,
as if for a cue. She observed at once that Mr. Stan-
ley appeared extremely satisfied, happy, bursting
with self-contentment. This could not be due to the
rum-punch; he had as yet but sipped it, and its ef-
fect would, in any case, not be so immediate. More,
he was gazing at her roguishly. She leapt to a con-
clusion. "No, Uncle Bill, I don't mind. Perhaps I
would if I were in love with him. But I am not,"
she said.
"I know that," her uncle nodded; "I have known
it since ever so long. You ask Mr. Stanley here if
I didn't just tell him so. It's Dawson, isn't it? Or
am I wrong?"
"You ever wrong?" jubilantly cried Myrtle.
"You could never be wrong, Uncle Bill." She
stooped down and kissed him on the forehead. "I
knew you would find it out for yourself," she purred,
which remark offended Mr. Stanley, and even
alarmed him. Was he thus to lose credit for all
that he had done, even (as he put it) to the extent
of risking prison when spying on Mr. Joe Crisman?
"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Burrell judicial-
ly. "I are not a man to praise meself, but I can
put two and two together and make it four. When
people think I not seeing anything, that is when I
see most. I will speak to Geoff this evening."
"Then you don't object?" enquired Myrtle joy-
"Of course, of course," interpolated Mr. Stanley.
"What do you mean?" Myrtle asked Paul Stan-
ley sharply, and in her eyes at that instant there
was no friendliness. Was Mr. Stanley going to blun-
der now?
"Of course not," returned Mr. Burrell, which
was what Mr. Stanley had intended to say. But Mr.
Burrell had ignored Mr. Starnly. and Myrtle now
had eyes and ears only for her uncle.
"Then," she stammered, "you mean -"
"Yes, my dear, I mean I have no objection. I
saw it coming long ago."
Myrtle kissed him joyfully, then rushed away to
tell Mr. Crisman: she knew now that it would be all
right with him and the old man too. Mr. Burrell
closed his eyes, and Mr. Stanley went on sipping his
rum-punch. But now there was much bitterness in
his heart. He had done everything, and suddenly
he found himself disregarded, in fact on the point
of being spoken to very sharply by Myrtle. And
Mr. Burrell was taking far more credit than he de-
served for foresight; he had had to be brought to

see things clearly. But that was the way of the
world, reflected Mr. Stanley bitterly; it was not
those who did the work who were rewarded for it.
.They were far more likely to be kicked. But for
his adroit flattery of the man of money there was
no saying what line he might have taken; yet
it was this Uncle Bill who would be looked upon as
good and gracious and kind and farseeing, never
poor Paul Stanley. It was beastly. But what could
a philosopher expect? Not even consolation from
his philosophy! What a world to live in! Mr.
Stanley finished his drink, put the glass on the
floor beside him, and, like Mr. Burrell, closed his
eyes. He would shut out all view of the world
while he contemplated its ingratitude. He would
think deeply, but would not let anyone know how
he felt. He would carry on with a masterly indif-
ference, and "Lunch is ready." said a voice in
his ear just when he felt that a violent earthquake
was shaking the house. "You. had a nice sleep," con-
tinued the voice, which he knew to be Myrtle's.
"Uncle Bill is gone to lie down."
"I never slept a wink," Mr. Stanley retorted in-
dignantly, "I was simply thinking with my eyes,
closed when the earthquake came."
"Rum-punch earthquake," said Myrtle blithely.
"I know."

Before he could answer anything she had bent
down and, for the first time in her life since she
had passed thirteen, she kissed him lightly on the
forehead. "Thank you, Mr. Paul," she said, "I know
you have been talking nicely to Uncle Bill about
me and Geoff. I will tell Geoff."
So that was that! Mr. Stanley was suddenly
convinced that the world was not, after all, but a
vale of bitter tears. Merit was sometimes recognized.
And by precisely the right people.


N the verandah that night the party at Heath-
combe, excluding Mr. Burrell, who had retired
to bed at six o'clock, sat and made plans for the
future. Behind them lights from the sitting room
glowed; before them the countryside was wrapped
in darkness. Above, golden stars illumined the vast
expanse of velvet sky.
It was cool, almost chilly, and the four who sat
there were content and happy. The man of the mo-
ment to three of them, to Myrtle and Joseph
Crisman and Geoff Dawson, was Mr. William Bur-
rell, who that afternoon had briefly outlined what
he now proposed to do for the two young men who
were connected with him, and for his niece. He


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had accepted with good grace Joe Crisman's engage.
ment; he had told them he had decided to make
both Crismuan and Dawson salaried partners in his
business. Crisman had for some time expected
something of the sort. And he was satisfied, for his
position would be higher than that of Geoffrey for
the present.
Mr. Burrell had informed them that he had
made a new will, and a deed of gift giving Myrtle
five thousand pounds in the business. "But now I
must make another will," he had said; "I are going
to do that as soon as I get to Kingston." Crisman
was to have six hundred pounds a year and a bonus
on the earnings of the company; Geoffrey five hun-
dred pounds as he was to marry Myrtle. "And of
course," Mr. Burrell added, "as Myrtle is going to
live here, that will save her house rent and a lot of
other expenses. For she will spend my money on
house-keeping instead of her husband's."
"And will protect your interests also, which will
be worth a lot to you," Myrtle had interpolated, and
had not been contradicted by Mr. Burrell.
Myrtle had written a letter to her employers.
She had suggested to them that her two weeks'
leave might be regarded as two weeks' notice, be-
cause she could not conveniently return to work
with her uncle on the sick list and she herself en-
gaged in making preparations for an early marriage.
She had no doubt that the people she had worked
for and who liked her would accept this arrange-
ment. She asked Mr. Stanley to deliver the letter
early on Monday morning.
"I will," said Mr. Stanley, "and if they make
any difficulty I will use my influence."
"Better not use anything, Mr. Paul," said Myr-
tle gently, and Mr. Stanley subsided.
"Next week Saturday I will go back to King-

71 ore

ston," continued Myrtle, "with Uncle Bill. He will
stay with us for some days. At the end of this
month Geoffrey will take charge here. My uncle
will be quite better by then, and in any case I
couldn't stay here with Geoff in the house. That
wouldn't be proper."
"Those things do not matter now," said Mr. Stan-
ley. "The old conventions have been modified."
"But that wouldn't prevent my friends in King-
ston from thinking all sorts of funny things if I
was to be in the same house with my intended and
only an uncle day after day and night after night,"
said Myrtle, "and I couldn't blame them. Besides, I
have to get things ready for my wedding."
'"Of course, of course," agreed Mr. Stanley.
"And when Geoff and I are married we can go
up to Kingston every week-end to see our friends.
This is a large property, and I can keep poultry and
ducks and turkeys: that will bring in money after a
while. Prices will go up if this war last much
longer, and I am not going to sell my dumb things
for nothing. Don't you agree with me, Mr. Paul?"
"Absolutely," said Mr. Stanley. "The laws of
political economy-"
"What's that now?" demanded Myrtle.
"I will explain," said Mr. Stanley.
"No, don't,.Mr. Paul; that would take too long.
I wonder if people care for turkeys in Manchester?
But we could send them by train to Kingston; and,
of course, we can buy all we want in Kingston, as
that will be cheaper than buying it here. We
must get a storehouse: don't you think so, Geoff?"
"I think whatever you do, Myrtle," laughed
Geoff; "but just now I am thinking of you only,
while Joe is thinking of Clarice."
"You are sweet," cried Myrtle, and lapsed into


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silence to dwell upon the great happiness she would
enjoy as Geoffrey's wife.
Joe Crisman was silent also, and so was Mr.
Stanley. But while the young folk were picturing
the future, his mind went back to the past. He
saw himself a young man again, a young man who
talked carelessly, hardly bothering about a correct
pronunciation of words, never caring whether what
he said or did might affect the fortunes of others.
He had been gay in those days, not tending to
solemnity. He had even been in love more than
once. This he had kept a profound secret to him-
self, not even murmuring about such affairs to Vin-
cent: the girls to whom he had been attracted had
not believed he was serious, and now he realized
that they had seen deeper and farther than he. He
had always, as he now realized, wished for no fem-
inine entanglements; he had always preferred his
freedom. Yet was he not tied up, as it were, with
Myrtle's fortunes? Had he escaped entanglement so
completely, after all?
Did he wish to now? He thought of Myrtle liv-
ing in Manchester while he resided in Kingston;
but he knew he would come to see her often. There
would be a blank in his life were it otherwise. The
money he had saved it was but little, he thought
ruefully would go to Myrtle on his death: it
mightn't mean much to her, yet he felt happy that
he would be able to leave her something, and
now he determined upon further economies for her
sake. She would have children. He hoped that her
eldest son would be christened Paul Stanley: he
would suggest that himself. He wanted to do so
now, but knew that he had better not. Myrtle and
Geoffrey would be shocked. People were far too
easily shocked, thought Mr. Stanley, when facing
the facts of life.
Myrtle's first boy would be his godson. On that
he would insist. He supposed, with a twinge of jeal-
ousy, that Joe Crisman would be Geoffrey's best
man; yet, after all, a best man must be a bachelor,
and wasn't he, Paul Stanley, a bachelor? It was
true he was no longer young. But neither was he
an old man: he might rightly be considered middle-
aged, and extremely active and vital at that. But
Myrtle and Geoffrey would not think of asking him
to become best man at their wedding; though such
a position seemed to him to be his by hereditary
right. Age middle-age was no longer rever-
enced in these days; he must write somnttliin about
that. But these young people would not read it.
They were more interested- in the mechanism of
motor cars and aeroplanes.
He dozed and dreamed that he was walking up
the aisle of a church, while an organ played a fu-
neral march. It was he, Paul Stanley, who was to
be married. The bride garatly resembled .Myrtle.
and she was just behind him, contrary to all the
rules of weddings. On either side of him were Joe
Crisman and Geoffrey Dawson whose Inisinsts it
was to see that he did not escape. He reached the
altar; the lady like Myrtle grasped him firmly by
the wrist and ordered him to repeat after her the
fateful words, "I will." He struggled against doing
so; Myrtle was all very well as a dearly beloved
adopted daughter, but not as a wife he panted
for his freedom. But Joe and Geoff were obdurate;
he must marry or die. He screamed aloud in his
dream, then awoke with a start.
"I have had a terrible nightmare," he muttered,
"I had better go to bed."
"What was the nightmare, Mr. Paul?" asked
Myrtle kindly.
"The war, my dear; some sort of war. I was
about to be .hlot."
'Continued on Page 76)






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(Continued from Page 74)
"I would prefer that they shot me rather than
you, Mr. Stanley," laughed Geoffrey. "I think I
could stand it better."
"You are going to stand it," blurted out Mr.
Stanley; "but young people get used to it after a
"What are you'saying, Mr. Paul?" cried Myr-
tle. "How can anybody get used to shooting?"
"Only experience can teach that lesson," shud-
dered Mr. Stanley, and bade them good-night.
"The old gentleman is not awake yet," remarked
Joe Crisman; "he's talking at random."
But Mr. Stanley reviewed his dream as he went
to his room. He loved Myrtle dearly. But how
lucky he had been not to have married a girl with
her strong and impetuous will. It would be all
right for Dawson, but he, Paul Stanley, would long
ago have perished from the earth had he taken to
himself a wife like Myrtle. She was going to keep
her fowls and her ducks, her turkeys and her Daw-
sons in good order, and no doubt they would be all
the better for that. But Paul Stanley would much
prefer disorder. "I am not a turkey," reflected Mr.
Stanley as he took off his shoes. -"And I can see
that it is better to be a father,than a husband."

"So," said the elder liss Scrofirld to her father,
"that girl, Myrtle Broglie, is going to marry your
clerk. I suppose you pave heard of it?"
"I guessed so all the time," replied Mr. Scrofield.
"and that is why I could never understand why it
was that you and your sister talked such nonsense
about me and Miss Broglie. What did you take
me for?"
"Well," sniffed Miss Scrofield, "we don't seem to
have been the only ones who thought you were going
to make a fool of yourself: Lottie Moyne thought' so
"Lottie Moyne?" enquired Mr. Scrofleld quickly,
"when last did you see her?"
"She came round here this afternoon: we were
surprised, for though we know her we are not exact-
ly friends. She said she was trying to go to Cuba
but couldn't possibly get a passage. What on earth
can a girl like her have to do with Cuba?"
"I really don't know," said Mr. Scrofleld uncom-

fortably. "Or why should she have come to tell you
about her business."
Miss Scrofield smiled indulgently.
"I have suspected for some time that Lottie has
a liking for you, papa, though you are so much older
than she is. Yet she is of a different class from
that Myrtle Broglie, who seems, as Lottie told us,
to have gone about saying that you wanted to marry
her. You are sure you didn't ask her?"
"Of course I am sure," Mr. Scrofield asserted
positively. "I was very nice to her, I admit, but
that was business. What you and your sister don't
understand is that a man in business must be nice
to the female relatives of the people who deal with
him, he must pretend that he likes them very much.
Often a woman can put a spoke in your wheel, you
know, and if Myrtle Broglie had done that with me,
her uncle wouldn't be one of my best customers to-
day. But she has no right to, go about saying I pro-
posed to her. People might believe her."
"Some people do," said Miss Scrofield dryly:
"Lottie Moyne seems to."
"She's a fool," was Mr. Scrofield's verdict.
This talk was taking place after dinner. Miss
Emma had carried the tidings of Myrtle's engage-
ment to the Misses Scrofleld, and these had received
it with joy. But they had said nothing to their
father about it, waiting for sure and certain confirma-
tion of Miss Emma's news. This had come from var-
ious sources, and not less authoritative than others
had been Lottie Moyne that day. Lottie had heard
and had doubted; then she had received a brief note
from Nellie informing her of Myrtle's engagement;
after that she was compelled to believe. A wonderful
joy had possessed her. She had never seriously con-
templated going to Cuba; now she was certain that
nothing would make her go. Harry would simply
have to marry her; if necessary she would tell his
daughters the facts of the case and see if that would
not have an effect upon Mr. Scrofleld. The Scrofield
girls- would be shocked; they would not like to think
of their father being talked about as a deceiver
and seducer. But Lottie had decided that she would
merely approach them in a general and not in a speci-
fic fashion just at present; hence her visit to their
house today. Mr. Scrofleld noticed that his daughter
had said Lottie couldn't find any means of transpor-
tation to Cuba, though he knew that the young lady
could always fly over in the last resort. He rightly
interpreted her words as a sort of message and ulti-
matum to him. And that ultimatum had been sent

through his daughters! It seemed, then, that Miss
Moyne, whom he had always thought of as a gentle
and yielding sort of girl, had a streak of the fighter
in her.
Mr. Scrofield was bitterly disappointed about
Myrtle. He had been prepared to marry her in the
face of his daughters' opposition: for wealth must
stand before a desire to live peaceably with one's own
children. But all that he had got for his decision to
sacrifice himself socially (as the Misses Scrofield
would put it) was a base deception. Myrtle had
never meant to marry-him: he saw that now. She
had only used his kindliness of disposition, his wish
to make her happy, to cheat him out of a motor car.
He believed too that she it was who had been instru-
mental in enticing from him a good assistant like
Dawson; and he would have believed that Lottie
Moyne was in league with her but for the hate that
Lottie undoubtedly had for Myrtle. But Lottie her-
self was now becoming obstreperous. And his daugh-
ters seemed to have some kind of liking for Lottie.
Well, so he had himself, but Lottie's people had no
money. A very liave moral defect in them, thought
Mr. Scrofield.
"Do you know why Lottie should want to go to
Cuba?" Miss Scrofield suddenly asked her father.
"Me? how could I? She wants to have a trip, I
suppose." As Mr. Scrofield answered he avoided his
daughter's eye.
"She didn't talk like that," mused the young lady;
"she spoke as if she wanted to go to Cuba on urgent
business but couldn't do it now. What kind of busi-
ness can she have over there?"
Mr. Scrofield felt desperate. Would his daughter
never cease to harp on Lottie Moyne and Cuba?
"Would you like me to ask her for you?" he en-
quired bluntly.
"Why should I, papa? Lottie would think me too
fast Besides. what is it to you what she does or
"I am interested in Lottie," replied Mr. Scrofield
boldly, dread, disappointment, desperation driving
him to a sudden resolve. "I have always found her a
nice girl, and her parents are fine people."
"But you are old enough to be her father," said
the younger Miss Scrofield, speaking for the first
"And what about it?" shouted Mr. Scrofield, now
thoroughly angry.
"Nothing. but ... and I believed you would re-
main a widower for the rest of your life."





.L L



"Well, and who says you are wrong?"
"You yourself, papa," quietly returned his
younger daughter. "First there is this talk about Myr-
tle Broglie-which nearly drove us mad. Then Lottie
talks about you in a peculiar sort of way, as if she
loved you. And now you look disturbed the moment
you hear that she might go to Cuba, though it seems
that she is not going. And-you say she is a nice girl,
and that her parents are fine people. If we put two
and two together-"
"You will make it twenty-two," interrupted her
father roughly, .
'Exactly. But, perhaps it would be better to
put one and one together and make them two. Well,
better you and Lottie than you and this Myrtle Bro-
glie, that's all I have to say. But when December
marries May-"
"The two of you have no damn respect for me,"
vociferatedl r. Scrofleld, and in five minutes* time
he was driving rapidly towards the Moyne residence.
Lottie eyed him apprehensively when she met
him in the sitting room: what had he come round to
the house to say? She had expected him. She had
known that sooner or later his daughters would men-
tion her visit to them and what she had said about
Cuba: she had spoken about Cuba with emphasis and
more than once. But in her heart she was afraid




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that Harry's reaction to her move might be bitter
and stormy. As she looked into his face she could
not guess what he might have to say.
"Come to take me for a drive?" she enquired
eagerly; "I was just longing to go for a drive."
"Yes, I thought I would drop around and invite
you out. Your father in?"
"No, he went out, but mother is inside: do you
want to see her?"
"Not exactly. I came to see you."
"Wait here for a little, then, till I tell her I am
going for a drive with you. I won't be a minute."
She came back almost immediately. They went
outside together and got into the car.
"So you went round to me house to talk to my
daughters about you and me, eh?" he questioned.
"And you talked about me and Myrtle Broglie. though
I told you again and again that there was nothing
between us. What you doing all this sort of thing
"I said nothing to your daughters except that I
couldn't get a passage to Cuba, Harry: surely there
was no harm in that?"
"But you can go over to Cuba if you want to."
"I don't want to," she answered softly; "good
God, don't you know what it means? I may die; even
if I didn't our baby must die. Do you.really want
that, Harry?"
He was startled, the thing had not occurred., to
him in that way before, probably because in pursuit
of other aims he had not wished to think of it from
such a point of view.
The baby must die. She had spoken plainly,
almost brutally. And she herself might be running
a great risk. He quailed at the thought.
"Then what have you made up your mind to
do?" he asked, and was not surprised to hear her
say: "Face it here. After all, people would guess
what I went to Cuba for. I shouldn't be surprised
if they were suspicious now. So what's the use? If
a girl makes a mistake she must pay for it. I am
sorry for my poor father and mother."
"But what do you mean by hinting to my daugh-
ters that I ever had the slightest intention of marry-
ing a young woman like Myrtle Broglie?" he demand-
ed, as though cut to the quick by such an unjust
suspicion on her part. "Didn*t I tell you it wasn't
"And didn't I believe you, though she herself
was spreading the story? But I was miserable and
jealous, Harry, for I love you. And then there was
this this--, 0 I wish to God I was dead!"
"You are always saying that; and if you were
dead you and I couldn't get married, so that is a
foolish Wish."
"Married! You and me, Harry?"
"Why, of course. What is there in that for you
to be frightened about?"
"I am not frightened: I am ... I am ..." She
threw her arms about his neck and kissed him
violently. "Look out!" he cried, "or there will be
an accident."
"I don't care, I don't care! I am so happy I
could die. You must tell my mother tonight, Harry,
and I will tell my father. You will, won't you?"
"Of course I will, as soon as we get back to
your house."
"And when shall we get married, Harry? I
want to know, because ...".
"I understand. We'll get married by special
license as soon as possible."


BAD news travels more quickly than good news;
that is probably because most persons find
greater pleasure in spreading news that is account-
ed bad. But good news also has a fairly rapid and
considerable circulation, especially if the incident to
which it relates is considered personal and private.
Then indeed there are persons, anxious to claim ex-
clusive information, who will exert themselves to
the uttermost in shouting from the housetops what
is whispered in the house; and so it was that Mr.
Scrofield's decision to marry Lottie quietly, and by
special license, became known an hour after he had
applied for the license, and was communicated from
man to woman and woman to man by those ac-
quainted with the two parties and also by thqse
who hardly knew of them by name.
Mr. Scrofield's daughters were thunderstruck
when told of his intention by their father. Yet,
greatly to his relief, they did not protest. Lottie
was of their class, they felt, and they were not'sure
that their father had not recently been exhibiting
distinct symptoms of senile decay. It was much bet-
ter that he should take as his future trouble in life
a girl of whom they did not strongly disapprove
than a young woman whose very name stirred them
to anger and wrath. 'And perhaps the quicker this
business of getting married was over the better it
would be for a man like their father, whose daugh-
ters apparently could no longer supervise his ac-
tions effectively.
Lottie told her parents of her forthcoming
marriage; Mr. Moyne was inclined to forbid any-


thing like a registrar function: people would talk,
he said.
"Let them," said Lottie. "What can they say?"
He appealed to Mrs. Moyne. but that lady dis.
agreed with him. Until Mr. Scrofleld was safely
booked, until the bonds of holy matrimony had
been securely' fastened upon him, she felt that one
could not, be- sure of him, and she believed in se-
curity. She was also wise in her own way. With-
out saying a word about it, she had noticed that now
and then lately Lottie had looked haggard, dis-
tressed, and the mother in her had grieved and
wondered-and watched. And now she, with an abil-
ity which Mr. Stanley would have commended, found
at once a good reason for an early wedding. She
gave voice to it in tones of confidence and finality.
When she spoke in this fashion her husband always
knew that the question was closed.
"We are'at war," said Mrs. Moyne, "and a busy
man like Harry ,Sirofield knows that every minute
is precious if. he is to look after his business pro-
perly. Besides, he, has been courting Lottie for a
long time now, and he is.no chicken. Why should
he wait?"
Mr. Moyne mentioned the forthcoming event in
the strictest confidence to one or two of his friends;
they imparted the news in strictest confidence to

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everybody else. The Misses Scrofleld could not re-
frain from whispering it to Miss Emma, also in
strictest confidence, when she came round to try on
two home dresses on them. Miss Emma told Jane;
Jane told Vincent and Mr. Stanley. Mr. Stanley
hinted that he had had a lot to do with this satis-
factory development.
There would be a honeymoon of but a couple
of days, from Saturday to Monday, and until a new
house was secured and furnished the bride would
live with Mr. Scrofield's daughters. These were not
prepared to give up the house in which they lived
to their father and his wife. As it had been made
over to them, Mr. Scrofield did not venture to argue
against their decision.
So when Myrtle came up to Kingston with her
uncle early on Saturday night she learnt that Lottie
and Harry had been married that day. She was so
happy herself that she wished she could congratulate
them immediately. She said she would do so in
person as soon as possible, but would not call on
them while they lived with the Misses Scrofield.
Myrtle did not see herself going into the Scrofield
home and being coldly treated by Harry's daughters.
And she knew that those two would stick at noth-
ing if they were inclined to be rude.
On Sunday she hastened round to Nellie Black-
heath, bursting in upon that lady like a whirlwind.
It was high noon, Mrs. Blackheath had returned
from church; her husband had gone fishing from
the night before, so there was every opportunity for
a heart-to-heart chat. And there was much to say.
Myrtle felt that she could talk by the hour without
a pause.
She kissed Mrs. Blackheath enthusiastically and
flung herself into a rocking chair in Nellie's bed-
"I have lots and lots to tell you, Nellie," she
began, "and you have a lot to tell me too. So Lot-
tie got married yesterday, eh? I heard of it as soon
as I got back to Kingston last night."
"And a little bird's been whispering that you
too are going to be married soon, Myrtle; my hus-
band heard it and told me. Why didn't you write
me about it?" asked Nellie.
"I wanted to tell you all about it meself, Nel-
lie, and besides I was too busy to write anybody. I
had to look after Uncle Bill, and what with one
thing and another every moment slipped away.
Yes; I took Geoffrey; we've been engaged for
a week now. He's a nice boy, Nellie; I don't see
one in this country that can compare with him."

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"You wouldn't yet," remarked Mrs. Black-
heath, smiling.
"Neither now nor yet," asserted Myrtle positive-
ly. "I know a lot of young men and not one of them
can compare with Geoff: there isn't one that can
come within a mile of him. He wrote me every
day after we became engaged, and sent me a tele-
gram every day, too. He hates the thought of going
down to the country without me; in fact he said
yesterday that we should follow the example of
Harry Scrofield and Lottie and get married by spec-
ial license, but of course I couldn't do that. Peo-
ple would talk they're talking already about Lot-
tie, though they don't know what you and I know.
But now she is married, what should she care about
what they say? She has the ring on her finger, Nel-
lie, and that is all that matters."
"I cried with joy when I heard of it," confessed
Nellie. "Poor Lottie; she must have had a terrible
time fretting. I was sorry for her from the bottom
of my heart."
"Me too; and I hope she will be grateful to us
for all we did for her. Did she ring you up and
tell you anything about it?"
"No; but perhaps her husband told her to keep
it secret for the time. I want to go and see her
when she comes back to Kingston. Only -"
"I hear Mr. Scrofield's daughters are very full
of themselves. I don't know that I want to go into
their house."
"That's what I feel myself," admitted Myrtle;
"but they couldn't be so forward as to object to
you, Nellie: they couldn't forget themselves so
"Well, what about you?"
"I am dark and you are not, and my in-
tended is still only their father's clerk. They would
think of that, and not of my uncle's position if
they want to be nasty. But Lottie will know better,
so I tell you what we'll do. When Lottie comes back
to Kingston -"
"I think she's coming back tomorrow," inter-
rupted Mrs. Blackheath.
"Good. Well, we'll wait until about Wednesday
and then go round together to see her. If one
alone went we would feel, perhaps, a little funny;
not because of Lottie and Harry, but because of
those two Scrofleld women. But if we go to-
gether -"
"Great," exclaimed Mrs. Blackheath. "Say about
six o'clock Wednesday afternoon?"


"That'll be fine. And now, tell me about your-
self, Nellie. I was saying to Geoff only last night
that you and I had been friends ever since I can
remember myself as grown up, and that if you
couldn't come to our wedding I wouldn't get mar-
ried at all. And Geoff laughed and said -"
Mrs. Blackheath settled herself to listen to the
recital. She knew it would be all about Geoff.
When Myrtle had been married for a few years,
or even a few months, she would understand that
other people had husbands and that there were many
other topics of conversation. But now it was going
to be Geoff and Geoff and Geoff. Well, a wise woman
would listen patiently. That was one way of keep-
ing friends.
The following night witnessed a reunion at
Mr. Broglie's house. Mr. Burrell was there, but had
retired early to rest. Myrtle had given up her room
to him and now shared her mother's: Mr. Burrell
had been deeply touched by this evidence of his
niece's solicitude, for she had made it clear to him
that for no other person living would she have left
her room. Miss Emma had come round to talk over
with Mrs. Broglie the momentous question of Myr-
tle's trousseau, or -rather of that part of it that she
would be entrusted to make. If the wedding dress
would be made by a stylish dressmaking establish-
ment, and some of the afternoon dresses also, and
if some of the latter would be bought readymade at
a handsome price, and if some of the day dresses
even could not be entrusted to Miss Emma, and none
of the underwear since that must all be imported
stuff there were still many articles of wear
which Miss Emma could undertake: indeed, her
hands would be full until December, when the wed-
ding would take place. She would have to get some
help, so numerous were the things which Myrtle
considered absolutely necessary. Myrtle had made
it clear to her parents that she would not go to
Geoff as a pauper, but had generously offered to
contribute out of her private funds about one-third
of the cost of the trousseau she deemed imperative.
Vincent and Jane had concurred without a murmur.
In Mr. Broplie's bedroom Vin and Mr. Stanley
sat and discu-.e-d the approaching marriage of Myr-
tle. To Vincent and Mr. Stanley it appeared that no
marriage had ever held such a profound significance.
Mr. Stanley had decided to order a new suit of
(loth hs to wear on the occasion. He gravely doubted
if any tailor in Jamaica could do him justice now.
On the verandah sat Myrtle and Geoffrey, Mr.
(Continued on Page 80)



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(Continued from Page 78)
Crisman and Clarice Hepburn. The girls had never
met before; Joe had brought Clarice round to in-
troduce her, and 3.Myrle and Clarice had taken to
each other at once, as of course they would in
the circumstances. MNII'tle even wanted to know why
there couldn't be a double wedding, both couples
being joined in wedlock at the same hour and the
same church, and with the reception at the same
It was while they were in the midst of this
conversation that a large car drove up and stopped
about five yards away from the gate. From it alight-
ed Mr. Scrofield who walked back to the gate, opened
it, and then stepped towards the verandah. Those
seated immediately rose to welcome him: the visit
was quite unexpected. "Harry," cried Myrtle with
unaffected pleasure, "we are so glad to see you. But
it looks like there are some other people in the car."
"My wife and daughters," replied Mr. Scrofield,
shaking hands with an effort to appear at ease. "I
dropped in just for a moment to see Mr. Dawson; I
knew he would be here. I want to ask him to do
something for me as soon as he gets down to work
"Oh, but Lottie and your daughters must come
in," laughed Myrtle, "and you must all stay a while.
Lottie doesn't need an invitation to my house! I
am glad your daughters have come, too, Harry; Mrs.

Blackheath and I were going round to see them
Mr. Scrofield, however, did not sit down;
neither did he answer. He merely beckoned to
Geoff, who came towards him.
But Myrtle hurried on. "I will run outside and
bring in the ladies; they needn't be afraid of in-
terrupting us because we are engaged!"
Suitiig the action to the word, she went out-
cide and ran up to the car. Those on the verandah
could hear her voice though not her words. She
was bubbling over with friendly excitement.
"Well, Lottie, so you are Mrs. Scrofield now, eh?
I knew it would happen, my dear, I was certain of
it. Come inside and tell us all about your wedding;
and your friends will come in, too, of course. I have
never met them, but--"
She paused for an introduction. As she did so,
she was conscious of something peculiar in the atti-
tude of the three young women who sat in the back
seat of the car. They were gazing straight in front
of them. Not once had they turned their heads in
her direction.
Lottie's voice came cold and distant in reply
to Myrtle's cheerful greeting.
"My husband jusit called' to see his clerk, Mr.
Dawson, for a moment; he remembered he had to
give some orders, and we didn't mind stopping for
a while. We are not coming in, thank you."
So that was it! These three women had pur-
posely come here to insult her, thought Myrtle;
Harry Scrofield really didn't want to see Geoff for



| Wholesale Provisioni Merchants and =
Groc r.

11111111111111111111111111111111111 I111111111III11111111111111111111 111111111111111I

anything particular. The Misses Scrofield were still
showing that they thought her beneath them, while
Lottie had seized this opportunity to show off and
to play the great lady.
Myvrtle shivered with rage from head to foot.
A primitive desire to seize hold of the insolent
creature whose face was but half a yard from hers
possessed her. Her right hand itched to launch a
box at Lottie's ear, to inflict upon the three of
them savage and bodily punishment. But only a
street woman or a virago could do that sort of
thing, and all of them knew that. Lottie had turned
on the electric light in the car, so Myrtle could see
distinctly that she was smiling as she cazed straight
ahead. As for the Scrofield girls, their faces were
perfectly blank. :.y:'t! mi:;it never have.existed
so far as any expression of theirs denoted aware-
ness of her proximity.
"I want to congratulate you," said Myrtle quiet-
ly, and with splendid self-control. "I am glad to
do so personally, and I thank you for giving me the
opportunity. We have been friends, and it was a
great grief to me and to many of us that one of our
friends should be threatened with having a bastard
child; now that you are married, the child, of course,
will be lawful. But you have had a narrow escape."
She turned and walked away. But not before
hearing Lottie gasp, not before seeing the Scro-
field girls start, then flash at her a glann.- of ven-
omous hate and consternation. Now they knew!
And if Myrtle 1vi'ulh begin to talk as she had
every intention "of dnne people would know
about Harry'Scrofield and his wife, and the reason
for their quick manriaei. and perhaps would be glad
to mix his daughters Up in their scathing remarks.
Before she had walked three yards Myrtle heard
Lottie's sobs: the shaft had sped home and drawn
blood. Miss Lottie had, in her desire to hurt Myrtle
Broglie, only succeeded in injuring herself.
Mr. Scrofield was hurrying out as Myrtle en-
tered the gate; he lifted his hat and mumbled a
good-evening. She took not the slightest notice of
him. He might not have been told by his women
folk that they would go there that night to be de-
liberately insulting, yet he ought to have known
that their coming, and remaining outside, was pre-
meditated rudeness. Well, he would pay the pen-
alty of it, lchether he was a primarily guilty party
or not. She would now talk about Lottie without
mercy, without ruth. She smiled grimly as she
iho[ghlr. of the Misses Scrofield treating their father
and their step-mother that night as though they






Were dirt. Those young ladies would guess that
there was something unpleasant coming from Miss
Broglie, and would take their revenge where they
"They wouldn't come in?" asked Geoff.
"No; they didn't come to pay us a visit. Don't
let us talk about them. They aren't worth it."
Joe and Clarice sensed that something must
have happened outside. By the light that came
from the drawing room they could see that Myrtle's
face was stormy. Geoffrey saw this also; it relieved
him when Joe suggested that they should all go to
a picture house for the second show. Joe did this,
knowing that his invitation would be refused. He
went off at once with Clarice, leaving Geoff and
SMyrtle alone.
As his car drove away Myrtle burst into angry,
bitter tears.
"What is the matter, love, what is the matter?"
asked Geoffrey alarmed.
"Those women came here to insult me," cried
Myrtle, grinding her teeth, "but I gave them more
than they bargained for. Lottie Scrofield is going
to have a baby, and I told her so. And I wish the
man had been there to hear."
"He will hear soon enough from his daughters,"
Geoff said. "And I will tell him so tomorrow. What
is more ."
"No, Geoff, you mustn't do anything," Myrtle
insisted anxiously. "You are leaving him at the'
end of the month, and if you have a fight with him
now it will look very badly; besides, he might bring
you up."
"But I can't allow you to be insulted," asse-
verated Geoff wrathfully; "I couldn't hear of that."
"Don't worry; I gave them more than they
gave me."
"But if they ever hear about the car Scrofield
gave you, and spread that story, what can you say?"
asked Geoff suddenly, and lMyrtle realized that,
though he had once said that the acceptance by her
of a car from Mr. Scrofield did not matter, he had
been thinking of it ever since.
"But didn't you say I could keep it and not
pay for it?" she demanded. "I thought it was all
"It isn't now, Myrtle, and you can see that.
You had better give the car back to Scrofield. And
pay him for the time you have had it. I will find
the money."
Myrtle's practical soul revolted against this.
She was the daughter of a woman who had been of
a saving character all her life. She was the niece
of a man who had a high regard for money. There
was something in the composition of her maternal
family that had led them to acquire material posses-
sions. But for that instinct her father would
not have been pushed on by his wife, and her uncle
would have remained a nobody. She herself loved
getting things: she thought it was more blessed to
receive than to give. Yet she knew that Geoff was
in deadly earnest, and she guessed that when he
was in earnest he must have his way. In that he
was very like her mother; she had sensed this simil-
arity before, and had known that her future happi-
ness depended upon her recognizing when Geoff
must have his way. "Very well," she said, but just


I For the Home.



I II lII llIII I iiiil UiiIi ii II III i I~l llII IIIIIi

then she heard Mr. Stanley approaching the ver-
andah. "Suppose I give it to Mr. Stanley?" she
suggested, "and tell him all about what has hap-

opened. He may be able to
better than we can think of
Without waiting to hear
to say, she called out to Mr.
you want a car? My car?
Let us tell you all about it."
trifled. He to own a car!

do something about it
what Geoff might have
Stanley: "Mr. Paul, do
I am giving it to you.
Mr. Stanley was elec-
He had never dreamt

that in his wildest moments. Then his native cau-
tion asserted itself: was there a string to this gen-
erous offer? He sat down. "What is the meaning
of this?" he demanded judicially.
Myrtle told him all the truth, and when she
had finished he exclaimed indignantly: "I wish I
had been out here a while ago. I would have
spoken words to that fellow Scrofield that would
have made his ears tingle, and Geoff would have
protected me from any bodily harm. Is the car in
good condition, Myrtle?"
"Well, something seems to have gone wrong
with it already."
"Just what I hoped. The matter, then, stands
like this. You don't want the car and never wanted
it. You refuse to sell it, not wishing to take money

for it. You make me a present of it. Tomorrow I
will have the license transferred to me, and then
will go to see Mr. Scrofield about it. I am going to
undertake a dangerous mission, Myrtle, but it will
put you right, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for
you. What hour will both you and Mr. Scrofield be
at the garage, Geoffrey?"
"Any time from nine to one," said Geoffrey,
wondering what Mr. Stanley had in view.
"I will be there at eleven. But mind that you
are there also, Geoff, for I think Mr. Scrofield a dan-
gerous man, and I am not in the physical condition
I was some thirty years ago. And, anyhow, I want
you to hear what I say to him. At eleven o'clock
tomorrow morning, then. I will now go home to
develop the general lines of my strategy."
"What are you going to do, Mr. Paul?" asked
Myrtle eagerly.
"Geoff will tell you tomorrow night," he answer-
ed, "and you will both be pleased. Good-night."


EARLY next morning Mr. Stanley found himself
at Myrtle's house and demanded the use of
(Continued on Page 83)



"Bring ;r.,nr
motoring lr,,il .
to us, wOe priln r
to do our utm",,r r, I-'ll,








...I .


Trade Commissioners in the British West Indies:

JAMAICA: F. W. Fraser, P.O. Box 225, Kingston. Office --
Canadian Bank of Commerce Chambers. (Terri-
tory includes the Bahamas and British Honduras.)
Cable address, Canadian.

TRINIDAD: Mr. G. A. Newman, (Acting), Port of Spain.
Office Barclay's Bank Building. (Territory
includes Barbados, Windward and Leeward
Islands, and British Guiana.) Cable address,

TRADE between the British West Indies and Canada is
founded on a natural basis-the exchange of goods between two
regions whose products do not compete with each other. Each
of these regions looks to the other for classes of goods which it
does not itself produce.

The mutual benefit of trade of this character is self-evident.
Moreover, in point of value, the exchange of products is, on the
whole, well balanced. This is true of Canada's trade with

Canada fully appreciates that, for the effective prosecution
of the war on the economic front, some degree of intra-Empire
trade restriction is essential. Despite such restrictions, the volume
of intra-Empire trade is on the increase, and both Canada and
the British West Indies have distinctive roles to play in making
their maximum contribution to the Empire's commercial and
financial strength.

Two Canadian Trade Commissioners are stationed in the
West Indies. These Commissioners are well equipped to co-
operate in every way toward the expansion of trade between the
West Indies and Canada.

Minister Deputy Minister

'1r I



Loung is

(Lmaca s &tf



j LI', -

Produced in .Tarmaicac by

(Continued from Page 81)
Charles for the next few hours. This was accorded.
He afterwards drove down to the appropriate Gov-
ernment Office, had the car license transferred to
him. then went on to the Scrofield Garage and re-
quested an interview with Mr. Scrofleld himself.
There was a purposeful look on his face. As he sat
down in the Scrofleld presence he gave Geoffrey Daw-
son a warning glance, as though to prepare him to
take the offensive, if necessary, on behalf of a cer-
taiu Paul Stanley. who was not disposed to run any
unnecessary physic.rl risks.
Mr. Stanley was angry. He had been thinking
over the rudeness to whih l Myrtle ihild I'een sub-
jetced the night before I.. Lottle Scrofield and the
Misses S,:-rtfield. he was certain now thau Harry Scro-
field had known a good deal heforelhand of the in.
mentions of his lady con'iectioist and had spitef'illy
connived at them. They h.id meant ti.* lumiliate M'yr-
tie. and though Myrtle was convinced that she had
given them two Rolands for their Oliver. had more-
than made up for their insolence, Mr. Stanley knew
that Scrofield himself had escaped this lashing of
her tongue, had got off far too lightly. Therefore
it was up to no less a person than Paul Stanley to
administer punishment to Mr. S,:rolield for his
many crimes and misdemeanours, not the least of
these being the categorical inclusion of Mr. Paul
Stanley amone thoie hom b the S r,.'field family re-
garded as Low Company. lrI. Stanley had never
forgotten that word. Lnw company' As 1f any in-
telligent person could think 'f Harry Scrofield is
being fit to untie thle ;boe-string (if a Paul Stanley,
even if he had wn-alth and Paul Stanle3 none.
The fact thit it was not IMr. Scrorield u\hb had
used the exprei,.i.n. and had probably never heard
his daughters apply it to the Br,. lies. was not con-
sidered by Mr. Stanley. The circumstance that he
was unknown to the Misses Scrofield, and that there-
fore they could not specifically have had him in
mind at any time, made no difference to him. H--
was certain that they would quite readily have re-
garded him as low company, and he had always sus-
perted that Mr. Scrofleld thought little or nothing
of him. So had Mr. Burrell at first, but Mr. Bur-
rell had subsequently repented of his obtuseness,
was now one of the converted, had gradually come
to see the light. Scrofield never had. Mr. Stanley
could therefore not forgive Mr. Scrofield.

Road, Kingston

So when he was asked to enter Mr. Scrofield's
office and that gentleman looked at him with no
friendly eye, he opened up at once in a voice which
he intended to be curt and haughty.
Mr. Scrofield was in no pleasant temper. He
had been bitterly assailed by his daughters the night
before for having consorted with Myrtle Broglie, and
though they had refrained through modesty from
speaking distinctly about a certain subject, their
hints had conveyed to him the knowledge that Myr-
tle-whom he had thought was ignorant of it-had
made reference to it in bitter language. Then on
going down to his business that morning he had
found Geoffrey Dawson's face like thunder, and had
realized that Geoffrey was craving for an opportuni-
ty of treating him like dirt. It was no wonder that
Mr. Scrofield's nerves were terribly on edge.
"Look here, Scrofield," began Mr. Stanley -
it was the first time he had ever dropped the Mr.
when addressing the high and mighty Mr. Scrofield,
and on this occasion his tone was that of a man
speaking to his inferior, with intent to make him
feel his inferiority; "I want to talk to you about
my car. I am not-satisfied with it, but I thought 1
would give it ample trial before coming round to
make any complaints."
"Your car?" asked Mr. Scrofield, astonished:
"what are you talking about?"
"My car, of course: haven't I said so? Miss
Broglie got it from you not long ago: perhaps you
didn't know then that she intended it for me, for
my birthday present: I am now sixty years of age."
"Your age doesn't concern me, Mr. Stanley; but
I understood that the car was to be for Mliss Brog-
lie: she told me so."
"Of course, it was to be for her in the first
place. My good man, don't you realise that if I in-
tend to mn:lke a present to anyone I must first buy
it? And if I buy it it belongs to me; only when I
give it away does it pass out of my possession. Do
you understand now, after this nnuicessary, elabor-
ate explanation?"
As he spoke, Mr. Stanley glanced in Geoffrey's
direction. Yes; that young man was sutlicirentl.
near to intervene if Mr. Scrofield should make- auny
warlike gesture. And he looked ready to intervene.
Strengthened by this assurance, Mr. Stanley.'s atti-
tude became more arrogant than ever. He eyed
Mr. Scrofield as though it were a pain to hold any
conversation with him, as though Mr. Scrofield were
a man who made it his business to palm off cars of
an inferior and imperfect description on unsuspect-


redeem ~le a
Ii rtons-' 'S totes

at 1/3 Pet e


ing customers, which, to give Scrofield his due, was
decidedly not the case.
"So Myrtle gave you the car, did she?" said
Mr. Scrofield with bitter emphasis; "I shouldn't
have imagined that."
"Your powers of imagination are evidently
limited, Scrofleld," answered Mr. Stanley. "Perhaps
you do not know that I have watched Miss Broglie
grow up from an infant, have been, so to speak,
her mentor, and was best man at her father's wed-
ding. Is it anything strange that she should want
to present me with a slight memento on my sixtieth
birthday' But perhaps you would not understand
her feeling: there is a class of trader, I know, who
can only think in terms of cash. Are you of that
class, Scrofield?"
"Let me tell you at once, Mr. Stanley," rapped
out Mr. Scrofield, "that my name is Mr. Scrofield to
you, not Scrofield; and that if I am a trader you are
"An educated man, my dear fellow, and a
thinker; that is all. And as your name is not Scro-
field, may I enquire just what it is? Not Brown or
Jones by any chance?"
"You had better leave this office at once!" ex-
pkld.ed Mr. Scrofi.-ld. now completely losing his
Agaiu Mr. Stanley, somewhat alarmed but still
determined to show a courage which he did not feel,
glance imploringly at Geoffrey. He saw once more
that Geoffrey was holding himself ready for any
emergency and was gazing at him with admiration.
His spirits rose. He did not budge.
"Do I understand, then, Scrofield, that you pos-
itively refuse to discuss with me the faults and de-
merits of my car, a car procured from you but re-
cently, though I have said nothing to warrant such
a refusal? Just let me know what is the situation
in a few brief words, and I will take what other
action is open to me. That is all."
Mr. Scrorield thought swiftly. It would be bad
business if it should get about that he had abrupt-
ly declined to listen to a complaint made about a
car from his establishment, especially when it was
still almost new. That would do him harm. His
commercial instincts came to the fore. "What is it
that you wish to say?" he demanded truculently.
"There is something wrong about your brakes.
Not long ago I nearly went to prison because they
did not seem to function properly."
"I will have tlih brakes examined; after that,





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you can go to prison as often as you like. Were
you driving yourself?"
"No, my chauffeur was."
"You have a chauffeur?
"Well, it was Charles; Miss Broglie's chauffeur."
"I thought so; and I noticed too that Miss Bro-
glie was always using the car."
"At my insistence. When she presented me
with it, I pointed out that I had no place to keep it
in: she said that her parents would keep it for me.
Then I said that I had no chauffeur: she promised
that Charles, who is highly incompetent, should act
in that capacity. Then I insisted that she herself
must use the car until I could decide what to do
with it, and she reluctantly consented. But she is
getting married now, and her uncle has a whole fleet
of cars, and her fiance, who is with us now, has a
car of his own, and now she doesn't even want any
longer to see my car in her premises. So I have
got to take it away. But I am certainly not going
to have a car through which I may be sent to the
general penitentiary for manslaughter."
"Come; let us see what is the matter with the
car," said Mr. Scrofield rising.
He did not believe one word that Mr. Stanley
had said, except, indeed, that he was now the owner
of the car. He supposed that Myrtle had given
away the car after last night's incident, about which
he had heard only too much from his daughters on
their return home. And now that his anger with
Mr. Stanley was being held in check, he remembered
that it was Mr. Stanley who had come to his office
some time before with mysterious hints about Lot-
tie Moyne therefore Mr. Stanley knew! And
Myrtle indubitably knew, and had said. And Geof-
frey Dawson also knew. Soon, if these were not
merciful, and he were not ultra-prudent, the whole
of Kingston would know. He shivered with appre-
hension. His tone and manner changed. He turned
to his clerk: "Won't you come with us, Geoff?" he
suggested pleasantly, and led the way. Geoff had
intended to accompany them in any case. He knew
that Mr. Stanley would not have proceeded one step
without him.
Mr. Scrofield himself got into the car and
tried the brakes. He drove the car outside the
garage, ran it into the street, came back with it: the
brakes were perfect. He brought it back to where
the other men waited, descended from it, smiled,
and said: "I'm afraid the fault must be with your
driver, Mr. Stanley; there's nothing wrong with
these brakes."
"No. If you doubt me, ask Mr. Dawson here to
try them. He knows a lot about cars, you know."
"Very well, Scrofield; I'll take your word for
it, But now that Miss Broglie will not consent to
use my car any longer it was a remarkable pres-
ent for a middle-aged man of sixty I don't ex-
actly know what to do with it. I must give some
thought to the matter."
An idea occurred to Mr. Scrofield; something
that might be of benefit to him and might also pla-
cate Mr. Stanley, the Broglies, and Geoffrey Dawson.
He voiced it. "If you have no place to keep the
car," he said, "I could take it back as a second-hand
car. Of course, as that, it isn't worth much in these
days; but I would be glad to oblige you, Stanley.
After all, we are old friends."
"How much would you give me for it?" asked
Mr. Stanley promptly.
"Well, say fifty pounds. I couldn't get more
than sixty for it now, and I would have to brush it
up; but between friends-"
"A hundred pounds," said Mr. Stanley.
"But, my dear sir!"
"Scrofield, the offer came from yourself. And
you must know by this that I am entirely above fi-
nancial considerations. Therefore a hundred pounds."
The car, Mr. Scrofield knew, could be easily sold
for a hundred and fifty. But it was bitter to think
that he, who had given it to Myrtle, should now
have to purchase it again. Besides Myrtle had al-
ready made fifty pounds out of it: the fifty pounds
her uncle had given her as the first instalment to-
wards her purchase. Let him now make Mr.
Burrell acquainted with how he had been tricked by
Myrtle but he dare not. The very thought of
such a thing alarmed him. He knew Myrtle. In re-
venge she would talk about his wife to everyone re-
gardless of consequences, or, rather, she would
talk because she would know that there could be no
consequences. She might also know all about the
once-projected plan of sending Lottie to Cuba; Mr.
Scrofield had suspected from last night that others
besides Lottie and himself were aware of that plan.
Curse women! You could never trust any of them
to keep their mouths shut. No matter what they
p'romi.iid they would blab. As for Stanley, he was
there this morning on a mission of blackmail. He
had come there to make money by veiled threats
against an unfortunate business man who was inno-
cent of any offence whatever. But he, Harry Scro-
field, would rather die than pay a hundred pounds to
these villainous bloodsuckers, to these people whose
one endeavour was to make money without working



for it. "Seventy pounds." he said firmly;'"I think
you will find that seventy pounds is a. fair price.
Stanley, and you know I wouldn't cheat a friend."
Mr. Dawson heard and looked )n with impas-
sive face; so long as it was clear that Myrtle had
parted with the tar and would receive no part of its
sale-price, he did not care. But he wondered at Mr.
Stanley's suddenly developed love for lucre. And he
wanted to see how it would be made clear that
Myrtle was to handle none of this mcney,
"Very well, Scrofield," said Mr. Stanley calmly,
"I shall oblige you.- A car would be a nuisance to
.me, anyhow. Let us repair to your office again, and
finishh this little arrangement."
S They went back to the i-fice, and Mr. Scrofield
,*askcd -Dawson to make out the cheque, at the same
'time requesting Mr. Stanley to write a receipt.
"Willingly," said Mr. Stanley, "but don't make out
the cheque in my name."
"Whose then?" enquired Mr. Scroield, with a
smile that was a sneer: so it was Myrtle. after all,
who was to benefit by this transactic'n!
"Make it out to the Treasurer of the War Assist-
ance Fund." said Mr. Stanley calmly: "the cheque
will be sent to him."
"Capii.il' exclaimed Mr. Scrofi'ld. This seemed
to him an excellent chance of .-eeiung to make a
decent .ontritbiition to the War funds: hardly any-
one would know that he had got an almost new car
in exchange for it.
"And I will send the cheque to the treasurer
with a note, from myself," proceeded Mr. Stanley,
"directing that he shall acknowledge the money in
the papers as coming from me. Nor will this be my
only loui ibuti.t;i towards .the cost of the war: I
have already promised to give a. lady-collector a shil-
ling a week."
M r. Scrofield's heart sank, but he did as bidden;
Dawson glanced at Mr. Stanley with increased re-
spect. The old gentleman was coming out! He was
not mere talk and folly by any means.
"Scrofield," said Mr. Stanley, this little transac-
tion having 'jen completed. "I should like you to
have lunch with me some day, say tomorrow. You
may have saved me from the penitentiary, so far as
one can tell; you never know. And I have yet to
have that little talk with you about the popularity
of motor vehicles in this country."
"Do you mean that you still want that informa-
tion?" asked Mr. Scrofileld amazed.
"Of course, of course. Why should you imagine
otherwise? Didn't I come to see you on that mat-
ter not so long ago? Shall we lunch together .to-
"Of course, Stanley in fact, I don't see why I
shouldn't call you Paul," cried Mr. Scrofield in a
burst of affected cordiality. "And you must call me
Harry. Aren't we old friends?"
"We are, we are," agreed Mr. Stanley; "and I
have always approved of you as a man of busi-
ness," he added quickly. "Well now, we shall
"At my house," said Mr. Scrofield decisively.
"Lottie would be vexed if we went anywhere else,
and me daughters will be delighted to meet a man
(Continues on Page 86)



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(Continued from Page 85)
of your iuiellect who can avoid going to the peni-
(The latter part of this sentence sounded pecu-
liar, even to Mr. Stanley's amiable ears.)
"I am not so sure," he began thoughtfully; but
Mr. Scrofield was firm. He had decided that his
daughters would have to understand that they
couldn't be allowed to ruin his life by their snob-
bishness. As to Lottie, she would be only too glad
tr secure Mr. Stanley's everlasting silence at the
cost of a little courtesy. And, any nay, Mr. Stanley
would be a friend worth having, and was quite of a
siiffici,-ntly presentable appearance to be seen enter-
ing the Scrofield residence for a meal or many
meals. Besides, would it not be known by tomor-
row that he had iiven seventy pounds to the War
Assistance Fund?
That alone would advertise him as a really
superior pe r.ou.
That night Myrtle. Geoffrey and Mr. Stanley
discussed tht siruatiun. and M. irtle heartily approved
or the course Mr. Stanley had taken. "And I thought
it out all by myself," Mr. Stanley took care to re-
nark; "no one helped me with a single suggestion,
though I am by no means averse to suggestions. so
lonp as the main plan of a campaign is left entirely
to myself. What I cannot stand is being prompted
too much. That is why, in spite of her excellent
qualities, I sometimes get irritated with Miss
Emma. She does not know when to stop giving
advice. As for me, I have decided never to listen to
her or anyone else any more. Why should I? I
always know exactly what to do."
"That's quite true," laughed Geoffrey.
i "Still, Mr. Paul," said Myrtle with some asper-
Ity, "I don't know that you are acting quite wisely
in going to the Scrofields' for lunch. Surely you
Oan't forget how they have treated me?"
"It is precisely because they have treated you
badly that I am going to lunch with them, Myrtle."
"Oh, indeed! And you have the face to tell
me that? You who-"
"They are going to apologise to you through
me, Myrtle." Mr. Stanley cried quickly, alarmed at
Myrtle's rising anger; ",on no other consideration
would I be seen in their house. They will send you;
messages by me, and you will ignore them at
first. They will go down, netaphornrially of course,
on their knees before you, and you will spurn them.
But not forever. Perhaps you will invite them to
your wedding. That would heal all wounds on
the surface. Secretly, you can always go on dis-
:iking them."
"I'd rather die than have such people at me
wedding," said Myrtle bitterly. "I am better off
.now than they are. Five years' time I will think
I was stooping low to know such people."
"Of course, of course; but we must not be snob-
bish, my dear; I have never been snobbish. No
philosopher ever is. Let bye-gones be bye-gones.
Allow the dead past to bury its dead I wonder
how anything dead can ever bury anything else that
is dead? Let sisterly love, or at any rate harmony,
continue. We are at war. Geoffrey here will tell
you that a mechanised war is the most terrible war
of all; Geoff knows all about mechanised methods
of warfare. Then why should we fight among our-
selves? Grasp the hand of friendship that is held
out to us, is what I say. I wonder what Scrofield
will have for luncheon tomorrow?"
Myrtle laughed. She was too happy in these
days to be angry for long. And perhaps Mr. Stan-
ley was right. Certainly it would do no harm
(Continued on Page 88)




Haberdashery, Hosiery, Fancy Goods,

| Enamelware, Tinware, Hardware,

Glassware, Chinaware, Earthenware,

U FISEHOLIDR E Ein il TU-P, 7E 11 E h TT







FLOROLIN (for Floors and Furniture)
CARSHINE (for Automobiles)



P.O. BOX 105




~7~rin /z


and the world


irinks with

W. & A. GILBEY, LTD., are the largest
Wine and Spirit Merchants in the
world. The famous Gilbey
signature, known in Jamaica
for almost a century,
is your guarantee
of fine quality.

0O, 0, 0p-,?&l

I *.'*-""^..a I
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Ifl*huum1u&.s in























Agents: FRED. L. MYERS


"The Sugar Wharf," Kingston.




(Founded 1879)


(Continued from Page 86)
for her to become friendly with the Scrofields, on
her own terms, and if they wanted it, when she'
was married. She would have a position to keep
up, she would have to think of her husband's fu-
ture. and some of her old friends would have to
make place for new ones.
And when, two mouths later, Geoffrey and Myr-
tie went up to the altar in the Kingston Parish
Church, %ir. and Mrs. Scrulield were among the
wedding guests, though the Misses Scrofield fatly
refused to go. "Wonders will never cease," thought
hot, perspiring Mr. Stanley in the church. "But,
after all, I am the greatest wonder of all."


Two cyclits pulled up for the night at a hotel.
"Well. I thiuk.' said the host, "that you'll have
a comfortable night. It's a feather bed."
At two o'clock in the morning one of the cyclists
roused his companic:n.
"Change places with me, Dik.," he groaned;
"it's nmy turn to lie on the feather."
The two commercial travellers were discussing
the careless manner in which trunks and suitcases
are handled by some railway companies.
"I had a very cute idea for preventing that
once." said one of them, smiling reminiscently. "I
labelled each of my bags With C'are-China.'"
"And did that have any effect?'
'"Well. I don t know; you see, they shipped the
whole darned lot to Hong K(en."
# *
It was a terrific boxing match. Fifty thousand
spectators cheered themselves hoarse as the boxers
stood toe tr toe and slugged each other with dyna-
mite rights and lefts.
Suddenly one of the men,trumpled to the can-
vas. The crowd sent mad. The boxer took a count
of three and then gt ul). In a few seconds he was
floored again. The crowd went crazy. Fifty thous-
and voices rose in one great, sustained roar.
The fighter on the canvas took a count of one-
two-three-four. The roar of the crowd increased in
volume. Suddenly the fallen fighter leaped to his
feet and faced the bellowing multitude.
'Stop that fool howling!" he yelled. "How do
you expect me to hear the count?"
.S 0
The high-speed salesman had joined the Army,
gone into action, been wounded. For several days
he lay delirious, but eventually he turned the cor-
On the first day of his recovery he was surprised
to see all the nurses standing round his bed, offering
him money.
"What's this for?" he asked.
"Why, for the radio and refrigerators you sold
us while you were unconscious," they chorused.

C,1--*- *- ---o

T HINK! How many gifts are
quickly worn out? But SHEAF-
FER'S LIFETIME, the finest pen
the world affords, matched with a
FINELINE Pencil. will be worn
ith nid ; h

lives! A
22/6 u:

I Le as IUongs La e ownerV I
Matched Sets, 45,'- up. Pens,
p. Pencils 15!- and up.

Dry Proof" Dek
S't-, I'nr home or
It*I U -*.

,fla e. I t~l uti i,
AND heauty. From
40'- up.

52 & 68 KING STREET.


has within the past 34 years BIGSBY & SONS LTD.
built up an enviable repu- POLISHES. VARNISHES,PAINTS, ETC.
Successful Trading /
on both sides of ESSENTIAL OILS. ETC
^^^^^^^^^ o jDR KILMER & COQ
----- /CORNING GLASS WORKS -.-.- I ... -.....-



P.O. BOX 59.








PublilihCd by PLA.NTErS" PI.'l.-H, LIMITED, and printe.l uy TuE GLEaE... C.. 14' Harrl,,llr St. KiiL'Cton. Janiuia. a IMalagirni ri ,rllt.r r.-0 ..ut :. [ ,2 L.,,J, M, -.ra,,- Rlood.

a I


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is constantly extending its distribution
system to become an integral part of
more and more business enterprises
and of real assistance towards better
living in an increasing number of

It is the Company's endeavour to
maintain the record of service which
it has built up over a period of years,
and by sharing your electrical prob-
lems, to become a virtual partner
in your business: a partner whose
aim is to provide an essential service
cheaply and to assist in the econo-
mical and social development of.



K 1 ~K 1 l
j-- j 11--
LL L-e

BEEEB ~tf EE~f



MYERS'S RUMS are famous through-
out the world for their unsurpassable
quality. Their exquisite flavour and dis-
tinctive- bouquet Lave been the reason
for MYERS'S RUM being universally
recognized as "the spirit of Jamaica"
S. the choice of the connoisseur in
every country where Rum is known.


!OVE 8Y '\ I..sl 0
A ^^;3SIX1

N 5TO S -r
-. .-. 'S '" *-

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""" -. '. '



Matured and Bottled in Bond in His Majesty's Government Bonded Warehouses in Jamaica

& SON (Founded 1879) "The Sugar

!FFlr)*i~'~Y*r ;CCJI ~~~ I I

', "

F~- ''
z :,_~L: '~LL~

iS --I.~-

Wharf" Kingston, Ja.


Full Text

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