PAGS SEV» CATK MAT STAR ANB WAV* SATURDAY, JUS« », 19U. J ^ -gg^

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"Dash me!" cried the colonel, who, being the least Interested personally, was first to recover his speech. The Barone drew In his breath ■harply. Then he looked at Abbott. "I suspected It," replied Abbott • to the mute question. Since the episode of last night his philosophical outlook had broadened. He had lost Nora, but had come out of the agony of love refused to fuller manhood. As long as he lived he was certain that the petty affairs of the day were never •gain going to disturb him. "Let him be," was the colonel's suggestion, adding a gesture to the direction of the casement door through which Courtlandt had gone. "He's as big a man as Nora Is a woman. If he 1 has returned with the determination of winning ber, he win." They did not see Courtlandt again. After a few minutes of restless to-and-frotog, he proceeded down to the landing, helped himself to the colonel's > motor-boat, and returned to Bellaggio. I At the hotel he asked for the duke. < 1 only to' be told that the duke and I madame had left that morning for Paris. Courtlandt saw that he had ] permitted one great opportunity to slip past. He gave up the battle. One \ more good look at hep, and he would ; go away. The. odds bad been too strong for him, and he knew that be was broken. When the motor-boat came back, Ab- , 1 bott and the baron made use of It also. They crossed In ellence, heavy-hearted. On landing Abtott said: "It is probable that I shall not see you again thlB year. I am leaving tomorrow for Paris. It's a great world, isn't it, where they toss us around like dice? Some throw sixes and others deuces. And in this game you and I have lost two out of three." "I shall return to Rome," replied the Barone. "My long leave of absence Is near its end." "What to the world can have happened?" demanded Nora, showing the two notes to Celeste. "Here's Donald going to Paris tomorrow and the Barone to Rome. They will bid us goodby at tea. I dont understand. Donald was to remain until we left for America, and the Barone's leave does not end until October." "Tomorrow?" dim-eyed. Celeste returned the notes. "Yee. You play the fourth ballade and I'll sing from Madame. It will be very lonesome without them." Nora gazed Into the wall mirror and gave a pat or two to her hair. When the ,men arrived, it was Impressed on Nora's mind that never had she seen them so amiable toward each other. They were positively friendly. And why not? The test of the morning had proved each of them to his own Individual satisfaction, and had done away with those stilted mannerterns that generally make rivals ridiculous to all eyes save their own. The revelation at luncheon had convinced them of the futility of things to general and of woman to particular. They were, without being aware of the fact, each a consolation to the other. The old adage that misery loves company was never more nicely typified. If Celeste expected Nora to exhibit any signs of distress over the approaching departure, she was disappointed. In truth, Nora was secretly pleased to be' rid of these two suitors, much as she liked them. The Barone had not yet proposed, and his sudden determination to return to Rome eliminated this disagreeable possibility. Bhe was glad Abbott was going because she had hurt him without Intention, and the sight of him was, to spite of her Innocence, a constant reproach. Presently she would have her work, and there would be no time for lonellThe person who suffered keenest was Celeste. She was awake; the tender little dream was gone ; and bravely ahe accepted the fact. Never ber agile fingers stumbled, and she played remarkably well. from Beethoven, Chopin. Grieg. Rubinstein, MacDowell And Nora, perversely enough, sang from old light opera. When the two men departed, Celeste went to her room and Nora out upon the terrace. It was after five. No one was about, so far as she could see. She stood enchanted over the transformation that was affecting the mountains and the lakes. How she loved the spot! How she would have liked to spend the rest of her days here! And how beautiful all the world was today! She gave a frightened little scream. A strong pair of arms had encircled her. She started to cry out again, but the sound was muffled and blotted ont by the pressure of a man's lips upon • her own. She Struggled violently, and suddenly was freed. "If I were a man." she said, "you should die fpr that!" "It was an opportunity not to be Ignored," 'returned Courtlandt "It to true that I was a fool to run away as I did, but my return has convinced me that I should have been as much a fool had 1 remained to tag you about begging for an Interview. I wrote you letters. Yon returned them unopened. You havq_ condemned me without a

hearing. So 6e it You may consider 1 that kiss the farewell appearance so dear to the operatic heart," bitterly, j He addressed most of this to the back of her head, for she was already ; walking toward the villa Into 'which j she disappeared with the proud air of ; 'some queen of tragedy. She was a I capital actress. | A heavy hand fell upon Courtlandt's shoulder. He was Irresistibly j drawn right about face, j "Now. then. Mr. Courtlandt" said : ; Harrigan, his eyes blue and cold as \ Ice, "perhaps you will explain?" | With rage and despair In his heart, Conrtlandt flnng off the band and answered: "I refuse!" j "Ah!" Harrigan stood off a few steps j and ran his glance critically up and j down this man of whom he had ; thought to make a friend. "You're a i husky lad. There's one way out of j this for you." | "So long aa It does not necessitate any explanations," Indifferently. | "In the bottom of one of Nora's trunks Is a set of my old gloves. There | will not be anyone up at the tennis j court this time of day. If you are not a mean cuss, If you are not an ordinary ! low-down imitation of a man, yonil meet me up there Inside of five 'minutes. If you can stand up to front of ; me for ten minutes, you need not . make any explanations. On the other !

"If You Can Stand Up In Front of Me ! for Ten Mlqutes You Need Make No Explanations-"

hand, you'll hike out of here as fast [ as boats and trains can take you. And never come back." "I am nearly twenty years younger J than you, Mr. Harrigan." "Oh, don't let that worry you any," with a truculent laugh. "Very well. You will find me there, j After all, you are her father." "You bet I am!" Harrigan stole Into his daughter's room and soundlessly bo£ed Into the bottom of the trunk that contJrtoea the relics of past glory. As he pulled them forth, a folded oblong strip of parchment came out with them and flutlered to the floor; but he was too busily engaged to notice It, nor would he have bothered If he had. The bottom of the trunk was littered with old letters and programs and operatic scores. He wrapped the gloves to a newspaper and got away without being seen. He was aa happy as a boy who had discovered an opening to the fence between him and the apple or chard. He was rather astonished to see Courtlandt kneeling to the clover patch, hunting for a four-leaf clover. It was patent that, the young man was not troubled with nerves. "Here!" he cried, brusquely, tossing over a pair of gloves. "If this method of .settling the dispute Isn't satisfactory, IH accept your explanations." For reply Courtlandt stood up and stripped to his undershirt. He drew on the gloves and laced them with the aid of his teeth. Then he kneaded them carefully. The two men eyed each other a little more respectfully than they had ever done before. "This single court Is about as near as we can make it. The man who steps outside le whipped." "I agree," said Courtlandt. "No rounds with rests; until one or the other Is outside. Clean breaks. That's about all. Now, put up your dukes and take a man's licking. I thought you were your father's son. but I guess you are like the rest ol 'em, hunters of women." Courtlandt laughed and stepped to i the middle of the court. Harrigan did not waste any time. He sent to a straight Jab to the Jaw, but Courtlandt blocked It neatly and countered with a hard one on Harrigan'a ear, whJsh. bcoan ta swell

j "Ffne!" growled Harrigan. "You | know something about the game. It i won't be as if I was walloping a baby ." ! He sent a left to the body, but the ! right failed to reach his man. j For some time Harrigan Jabbed and ' swuffgand uppercut; often he reached j his opponents body, but never his face. It worried him a little to find . I that he could not stir Courtlandt more than two or three feet. Courtlandt ] never followed up any advantage, thus , making Harrigan force the fighting, which was rather to' his liking. But • presently It began to enter his mind convincingly that apart fronj the Initial blow, the younger man w-as worktog wholly on the defensive. As If he were afraid he might hurt him! This ! served to make the old fellow furious. | He bored in right and left, left and ] right, and Courtlandt gave way, step by step until he was so close to the line that he could see it from the corner of his eye. This glance, swift 1 as It was, came near to being his undoing. Harrigan caught him with a terrible right on the Jaw. It was a glancing blow, otherwise the fight would have ended then and there. Instantly he lurched forward and clinched before the other oould add the finishing tough. > The two pushed about, Harrigan ; fiercely striving to break the younger , man's hold. He wan beginning to { ' breathe bard besides. A little longer, 1 ; and hto blows would lack the proper steam. Finally Courtlandt broke away j of his own accord. His bead buzzed a little, but aside from that he had recovered. Harrigan pursued hto tac- [ tics and rushed. But this time there | was an offensive return. Courtlandt | became the aggressor. There was no i withstanding him. And Harrigan ! fairly saw the end; but with that ln- | domttable pluck which had made him famous In the annals of the ring, he 1 kept banging away. The- swift, jabs here and there upon his body began to tell. Oh, for a minute's rest and a piece of lemon on hto parched tongue! Suddenly Courtlandt rushed him tigerishly, landing a Jab which closed Harrigan's right eye. Court- | landt dropped his hande, and stepped back. His glance traveled suggest- • lvely to Harrigan's feet. He was outside the "ropes." "I beg your pardon, Mr. Harrigan, for losing my temper." I "What's the odds? I lost mine. You I win." Harrigan was a true sportsman. He had no excuses to offer. He bad | dug the pit of humiliation with hto own hands. He recognized this as one of two facts. The other was, that had Courtlandt extended himself, the battle I would have lasted about one minute. It was gall and wormwood, but there ' you were. | "And now, you ask for explanations. 8 Ask your daughter to make them." 8 Courtlandt pulled off the gloves and got into hto clothes. "You may add. t sir, that 1 shall never trouble her j ' again with my unwelcome attentions. | I leave for Milan to the morning." i r I Courtlandt left the field of victory without further comment. . "Well, what do you think of that?" mueed Harrigan, as he stooped over K I to gather up the gloves. "Any one 1 would say that he was the Injured party. I'm In wrong on this deal % somewhere. Ill ask Miss Nora a qnea- ! s tlon or two." i a It was not so easy returning. He 3 ran Into hto wife. He tried to dodge j. her, hut without success. > "James, where did you get that black eye?" tragically. j "It* a daisy, ain't It, Molly?" puab- | tog past her Into Nora's room and clos- . tog the door after him. B "Father!" s "That you, Nora?" blinking. ^ Tather, If you have been fighting - with him. Ill never forgive you." B "Forget It, Nora 1 wasn't fighting. I only thought 1 was." 0 ; He raised the lid of the trunk and r cast to the gloves haphazard. And . i then be saw the paper which had j [ fallen out. He picked up and squlnt- ! ed at It, for he could not see very , well. Nora w-as leaving the room In a a temper. y : "Going, Nora?" "I am. And I advise you to have j ] your dinner to your room." v i Alone, be turned on the light. It (j 1 never occurred to him that he might j j be prying Into some of Nora's private a | correspondence. He unfolded the i parchment and held it under the light, j For a long time he stared at the writr i ing, which was to English, at the date, 0 at the names. Then he quietly refold- ; ed it and put it away for future use, ! immediate future use. I "This is a great world," he murt mured, rubbing his ear tenderly. J '■ CHAPTER XIV. 'j , Journey's End. Harrigan dined alone. He waa In disgrace; he was sore, mentally as ° j well as physically; and he ate his dinner without relish, to simple obedi- * ence to those weU-regulated periods •j of hunger that assailed him three _ times a dayf in spring, summer, autumn and. winter. By. the. tlmfl_the .e

! waiter naa cleared away the dishes, • Harrigan had a perfecto between hto 1 , teeth (along with a certain ma trim o- 1 . nial bit), and smoked as If he had wagered to finish the cigar to the ' usual stretch. He then began to walk ' . the floor, much after the fashion of a ! ' man who has the toothache, or the j ' earache, which would be more to the ] , point. To hto direct mind no dlplo- ; ' macy was needed; all that was neces- j j sary was a few blunt questions. Nora ! , could answer them as she chose, j j Nora, his baby, hto little girl that used ' to run around barefooted and laugh j j i when he applied the needed birch! I , I How children grew up! And they ! , never grew too old for the birch; they ! certainly never did. They heard him from the drawlngrcom; tramp, tramp, tramp, ' . "Let him be, Nora," said Mre. Harrl- j gan, wisely. "He is to a rage about something. And your father is not the easiest man to approach when he's mad. If he fought Mr. Courtlandt, he believed he had some good reason for doing so." "Mother, there are times when I believe you are afraid of father." "I am always afraid of him. It Is only because I make believe I'm not that I can get him to do anything. It was dreadful. And Mr. Courtlandt waa euch a gentleman. I could cry. But let your father be until tomorrow." "And have him wandering- about with that black eye? Something must be done for It. I'm not afraid of him." "Sometimes I wish you were." So Nora entered the lion's dec fearlessly. "Is there anything 1 can do for you, dad?" "You can get the witch hazel and bathe this lamp of mine," grinlly. She ran Into her own room and returned with the simpler devices for reducing a swolfen eye. She did not notice, or pretended that she didn't, that he locked the door and put the key to his pocket. He sat down to a chair, under the light; and she went ! to work deftly. "I've got some make-up, and tomorrow morning 111 paint It for you." "You don't aek any questions," he said, with grim n ess. "Would It relieve your eye any?" , lightly. He laughed. "No; hut It might relieve my mind." "Well, then, why did you do so foolish a thing? At your age! Don't you know that you can't go on whip- j ping every man you take a dislike , lor "I haven't taken any dlallke to1 , - Courtlandt. But I saw him kiss yoo." | can take care of myself." "Perhaps. I asked him to explain, j He rfefused. One thing puzzled me, j though I didn't know what tt was at • the time. Now, when a fellow steals . a kiss from a beautiful woman like J • you, Nora, I don't see why he should - feel mad about it. When he had all I but knocked your daddy to by-by, he j , said that you could explain. ... Don't press so hard," warntogly. I i "Well, can you?" "Since you saw what he did, I do ; not see where explanations on my I i part are necessary." > "Nora, I've never caught you to a 1 lie. I never want to. When you were , i little you were the truth fullest thing . I ever saw. No matter what kind of i a licking was in store for you, you | \ weren't afraid; you told the truth. . 1 . . . There, that'll do. Put some | ' | cotton over It and bind It with a I handkerchief. It'll be black all right, , but the swelling will go down. I can ' tell "em a tennis ball hit me. It was ! . more like a csnnon ball, though. Bay. ' i Nora, you know I've always poob- ' poohed these amateurs. People used to say that there were dozens of men ' to New York to my prime who oould ■ have laid me cold. I used to laugh. » , Well, I guess they were right. Courtl i landfs got the stlffest kick I ever ran I Into. A pile driver, and If he had landed - ! on my Jaw, It would have been dorml i bene as you say when you bid me good ! night to dago. That* all right now > until tomorrow. I want to talk to ' you. Draw up a chair. There! As I t said, I've never caught you to a lie, but 1 find that you've been living a lie - for two years. You haven't been - square to me, nor to your mother, nor to the chaps that came around and made k>ve to you. You probably didn't look at It that way, but there's 5 the tact. I'm not Paul Pry; but accidentally I came across this," taking ;. the document from his pocket and handing It to her. "Read it. What's 1 the answer?" 1 Nora's hands trembled. 1 "Takee you a long time to read it. :- Is It truer y "Yea." a "And I went up to the tennis court with the intention of knocking his head off; and now I'm wondering why e he didn't knock off mine. Nora, he's a man; and when you get through with t this, I'm going down to the hotel and t apologize." e "You will do nothing of the sort; e not with that eye." L "All right. I was always worried t- for fear you'd hook up with some duke :, you'd have to support. Now, I want 1- to know how this chap happens to s, be my son-to-law. Make it brief, for I don't" want to get tangled up more r- 1 than Is necessary." Nora crackled the certificate In her fingers and stared unseeingly at it for some time. "I met him first to Rangoon," she began slowly, without \ raising her eyes. a "When you went around. the world s on your own?" l- "Yes. Oh, don't worry. I was ali- wa/B able to take care of myself." s An Irish Idea," answered Harrigan e complacently. i- . "1 loved him, father, with all my

! heart and soul. He waa not only big . 1 i and strong and handsome, but he was ' 1 and tender and thoughtful. ; I I never knew that he w«5 rich i 1 j until after I had promised to be his j wife. When I learned that he was the £ Courtlandt who was always j : getting into the newspapers, 1 laughed. ' 1 i There were stories about hto esca- ! ' ] pades. There were Innuendoes re- j ' ! gardlng certain women, hut I put i 1 ! them out of my mind as twaddle. Ah, : 1 had I been so happy! In Ber- 1 lto we went about like two children, i 1 It was play. He brought me to the | i Opera and took me away; and we had j ' | the most charming little suppers. I I ' j wrote you or mother because I j 1 ; wished to surprise you." ' * "You have. Go on." I "I had never patd much attention j 1 to Flora Deslmone, though I knew that ; 1 ahe was lesions of nv success. Rev- ! '

"I Beg Your Pardon, Mr. Harrigan, for Losing My Temper." .. ,

| eral times I caught her looking at Ed- ! Ward to a way I did not like." | "She looked at him, huh?" "It was the last performance of the season. We were married that afte.noon. We did not want anyone to | i know about it 1 was not to leave j the stage until the end of the follow- | lng season. We were staying at the , same hotel with rooms across the cor1 ridor. This was much against hto • wishes, but I prevailed." • "I see." 1 j "Our rooms were opposite, as I said. I After the performance that night I j j went to mine to complete the final ' I packing. We were to leave at one I I for the Tyrol. Father, I saw Flora ! > ! Deslmone come out of his room." j . Harrigan shut and opened his hands. • "Do you understand? 1 saw her. 1 , She was laughing. I did not see him. 1 j My wedding night! She came from I hto room. My heart stopped, the 1 j world stopped, everything went black. > All the stories that I had read and ■ heard came back. When he knocked t • I at my door I refused to eee him. I ' | never saw him again until that night 1 ta Paris when he forced his way Into my apartment." | "Hang It, Nora, this doesn't sound k i like him!" > | "I saw her." ! "He wrote you?" ! "I returned the letters, unopened." 1 I "That wasn't square. You might • have been wrong." • J "He wrote five letters. After that 1 be went to India, to Africa and back • to India, where he seemed to find con1 eolation enough." f\ Harrigan laid it to hto lack of nor • mal vision, but to hto single optic ' there was anything but misery to hex 1 beautiful blue eyea. True, they 1 sparkled with tears; but that signified ' nothing; be hadn't been married these • thirty-odd years without learning thai " a woman weeps for any of a thousand 1 and one reasons. ' "Do you care for him still?" 1 "Not a day passed during theee 1 many months that I did not vow 1 ' hated him." ' | "Anyone else know?" 1 I "The padre. I had to tell some one • or go mad. But I didn't hate him. 1 ' oould no more put him out of m] I life than I could atop breathing. Ah r I have been so miserable and un ' happy!" She laid her head upon hit r knees and clumsily he stroked It. His • girl! • ! "That* the trouble with ue Irish, f Nora. We jump without looking, with- • out finding whether we're right or • , wrong. Well, your daddy's opinion Is ' that you should have read hto first ' letter. If it didn't ring right, why. - you could have jumped the traces. I don't believe he did anything wrong at alL It Isn't In the man's blood to • do anything underboard." 8 "But I saw her," a queer look to her y eyes as she glanced np at him. 8 "I don't care a kioodle if you did. II Take it from me. It was a put-up Job ^ by that Calabrlan woman. She might have gone to his room for any nun- • ber of harmless things. But I think she was curious." d "Why didn't she come to me. If she 6 wanted to ask questions?" ' "1 can see you answering them. She ' 0 probably just wanted to know If you r were 'married or not. She might have e been In love with him, and then she ! might not. Theso Italians don't know ! r half the time what they're about, any1 how. But I don't believe It of Court- . Q landL He doesn't line up that way. x Boeides, he's got eyes. You're a thousand times more attractive. He's no A fool. Know what I think? As she was coming out she saw you at your door; and the devil to her got busy." Nora rose, flung her arms around 11 him and kissed him. "Look out for that tin ear!" y "Oh, you great big, loyal, truehearted man! Open that door and . L? I

me get out to too terrace. 1 want sing, sing!" "He said be was going to Lilian la ■ the morning." She danced to the door and was "Nora!" he called. Impatiently. Ha ! to vain for the sound of her ; return. "Well, 111 take the count when | comes to guessing what a woman* ! going to do. Ill go out and square with the old girl. Wonder how thla will harness up with her social 1 Courtlandt got Into hto compartment at Varenna. He had tipped tie' guard ! liberally not to open the door for anyelse, unless the train was crowded. ! As the shrill blast of the conductor* horn sounded the warning of "all aboard," the door opened and a heavily : veiled woman got to hurriedly. The I train began to move Instantly. The fuard clammed the door and latched 1L Courtlandt sighed: the futility of i trusting these Italians, of trying to , buy their loyalty! The woman waa j without any luggage whatever, not | even the usual magazine. She was dressed to brown, her bp.' was brown, I her veil, her gloves, her «lioea. But ; whether she was ycung or old waa , beyond his deduction. He opened his , Corriere and held It before his eyes;* j but he found reading Impossible. Tha I newspaper finally slipped from his hande to the floor, where It swayed 1 and ruBtlpd unnoticed. lie wan stari£% at the promontory across Lecco. the green and restful hill, the little earthly paradise out of which he had been unjustly cast. He couldn't understand. He had lived cleanly and decently; he had wronged no man or woman, nor himself. And yet, through some evil twist of fate, be had loot all there was ta life worth -having. The train lurched around a shoulder of the mountain. He leaned against the window. In a moment more the villa was gone. What was It? He felt irresistibly drawn. Without intending to- do so, | he turned and stared at the woman In brown. Her hand went to the veil , and swept It aside. Nora was us^all, or romance as a child. She could have stopped him before he made the I boat, but she wanted to be alone with: him. j "Nora!" She fluDg herself on her knees to. front of him. "I ata a wretch!" ahe eald. | He could only repeat her name. | "I am not worth my salt. Ah. why; did you run away? Why did you not | pursue me. Importune me until l! wearied? perhaps gladly? I There were, times when I would have J opened my^arms had yon -been the worst scoundrel to the world Instead of the dearest lover, the patlentestl] Ah, can you forgive me?" "Forgive you, Nora?" He wa« numb. "I am a miserable wretch) i doubted you. I! When all 1 had to do was to recall the way people misrepresented things I had donel I sent beck your letters . . . and read and re-

' ' -I Am a WretcV She Bald.

read the old blue ones. Don't you . remember how you used to write them r on blue ^aper? . . . Flora told me i everything. It was only because she I hated me. not that she cared anything about you. She to!d me that night I at the ball. She was at the bottom 5 of the abduction. When you kissed > me . . . didn't you know that I kissed you back. Edward, I am a mlserr able wretch, but 1 shall follow you wherever you go, and I haven't even a vanity box to my handbag T' There j were teara in her eyes. "Say that I t am a wretch!" He drew her up beside him. His i arms closed around her 60 hungrily, so strongly, that she gasped a little, j He looked Into her eyes; hto glance traveled here and there over her face, 3 ■ searching for the familiar dimple a! i one corner of her mouth. » "Nora!" he whispered. ; "Ktes me!" And then the train came to a stand, - Jerkily. They fell back against the - cushions. . I "Lecco!" cried the guard through - the window. ) They laughed like children. > "I bribed him," she said gaily. "And r now . X "Yes, and now?" eagerly. If still beI wildered. "Let* go back!" THE END.