Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1912-Jan 1913)

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50 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE Marian Holcombe, introduced herself, however, and prepared him somewhat for the part he was to play in their household. She, as dark as night, With low-growing hair and resolute, brown eyes, was the half-sister of Laura Fairlie — their mother having twice married. Mr. Philip Fairlie, Laura's father, had died, leaving Laura a wealthy heiress in her own name, and a life interest in the estate of Limmeridge to his sickly and retiring brother, Frederick. So matters stood when Walter Hartridge appeared a t Limmeridge House. On the following morning, he was ushered into the private rooms of Mr. Fairlie— rooms fitted with the cabinets of curios of an insatiable collector, and with silken blinds perpetually drawn. Hartridge 's interview with the pallid, decrepit old gentleman was short, and, apparently, painful in the extreme to Mr. Fairlie— the light hurt his eyes, the volume of the artist's voice jarred him, his health very precarious. Its result was, nevertheless, that Hartridge was to take complete charge of his art collection, and to control entirely the studies of the young ladies. He, further, was to be received on the footing of a gentleman and an equal. It was noon ere Hartridge, sauntering thru the flower-gardens with Marian Holcombe, came upon Laura Fairlie, the girl who was to change, so remarkably, the easy-going course of his life. She was seated in a little WALTER HARTRIDGE, ARTIST was rustic summer-house, bent intently over a water-color drawing. Nor did she notice the approach of Marian Holcombe and the young man. Hartridge 's first sight of her was as she raised a pair of dark-blue eyes from her sketch and looked at them with neither fear, confusion, nor curiosity. Their expression, with heavy, dark lashes, was more the frank, direct one of a child. Above her eyes a mass of wavy, thick hair struggled to free itself from the confines of a summer hat. But what struck Hartridge, so that he stopped, and stared almost rudely at her, was the singular resemblance of her features to the fragile woman in white of the Hampstead road. A resemblance, an expression, a turn of the lips and chin that was unmistakable "My sister, Miss Fairlie, Mr. Hartridge. ' ' He suddenly came back to the flower-garden of Limmeridge House again, and bowed to the beautiful niece of his employer. Of the many pretty and attractive young women that he had met in London, none had received him as modestly, yet frankly pleased, as this slender girl in simple white muslin. Under the spell of her sweet, natural manner, his sad, fear-driven woman of the road was forgotten; Laura Fairlie 's charm welled up from the springs of her heart to hold and delight him. From then on, for several weeks, Walter Hartridge 's morning hours succeeded each other calmly in the