Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

108 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE shouldered youth so intent upon lighting a cigarette. "It's all right — there's — no — answer/' he said, slowly. Then, rising angrily, as the Japanese reappeared at the door, "Clear out, will you ? — both of you !" Ealph Dexmore never wasted much time in anger or ill-temper. He gazed at the small ring which had fallen into the palm of his hand as he unfolded the note, and by the time he was ready to give the latter a second reading there was an expression of hope and of determination on his face. "While there's life there's hope. Life is only a merry-go-round, anyway," he murmured, as he read the note for the second time : "My dear Mr. Dexmore : All is over between us. I have found out my mistake. I can never marry you and I return your ring. Fate never meant that I should wear it. Try to forget me, and I will remember you always. — Clara." Five minutes later the impetuous Ealph Dexmore entered Clara's sittingroom without being announced. "For heaven's sake, Clara, what is all this nonsense about?" he cried. It was at the very time he had been expecting to sit, with Clara beside him, within the charmed circle of the Alumni at the concert. Tho taken unawares, Clara was at her best. She was stately. She was awe-inspiring. "It means," she replied, "exactly what I wrote to you. Everything is over between us. I was foolish ever to think that I loved you. I have learned my mistake " "Nonsense, Clara, listen to me !" cried Dexmore. "Surely we have known each other long enough. Ever since we were children we have been sweethearts. You don't mean to say you're going to throw me over, now, for someone else. Tell me, there isn't anyone else, is there, dear?" "You mustn't call me that, Mr. Dexmore. It is not proper. I am not in a position to accept any attentions from you, whatever. You are not my ideal, that is all. You are too plain an American — \ — " "What ? An American !" Dexmore gasped with astonishment. "What in thunder else would I be? My grandfathers helped to establish this glorious republic. I thank the good oici boys that I am an American. You don't mean to say that you've gone back to your old craze for titled, chinwhiskered dudes from the other side Ye gods, how silly you are ! A girl of seventeen ought to have better sense by this time." Dexmore flung himself into an easychair and gazed almost contemptuously at the beautiful object of his affections. And just then an idea, almost an inspiration, began taking root in his troubled mind. Clara moved serenely over to the window. She did not sit. Her gown was new and it was hobbled. "Hobbles are so tight over here," Marguerite had written, "that the ladies make no attempt to sit down." And was not the Count coming from the other side? Clara was practicing for the Count. "You are ill-mannered," she flashed. "You have no dignity — no. gallantry. You don't know how to make love to a girl. You send your flowers by a dirtyfaced messenger. You don't present them yourself. You lounge in a chair and talk about a ball game or some silly mandolin players in a glee club. You have no romance, no poetry, no imagination." Clara had not studied elocution at boarding school for nothing. She did her little part very nicely. Her pose was good and her intonation perfect. The effect was not lost on Dexmore.. "You're a good thing," he exclaimed, abruptly. "That style becomes you immensely. I tell you, Clara, you'd be a dazzler, with a pearl necklace and a few diamonds sprinkled around on you promiscuously, and a title to your name." Clara started at this unexpected impudence. Dexmore's countenance was inscrutible, almost humorous. She was -puzzled. Evidently he did_ not mean to be offensive, she thought. But