Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

MU 1 lUN She tore at the envelope with fingers that suddenly were nervous. The few typewritten lines within leaped to her eyes almost at a glance, tho she continued to gaze down at them mechanically, her face between the shining folds of hair with its smile still curving the lovely lips, suddenly, curiously, like a mask held before horror. Yet to the casual glance they seemed commonplace enough. “Dear IMiss Winton,” the note ran — there was a broken corner to the capital “W,” she noticed, mechanically — “No doubt you have already heard of the failure of the Arizona Queen Company and realize that the note you gave in security for your brother is now valueless. If you will call to see me I am sure that we may reach .some agreement on the matter. Yours sincerely, Benjamin Graves.’' The silence grew so long that Jocelyn looked up from her own letters in surpri.se, which grew to curiosity as she gazed at the whitely smiling face ol the bride. “No bad news, 1 hope, dear?” she cooed. .Mice folded the letter with careful precision. “Oh no, oi course not,” she said, breathlessly, “just a tiresome busines; matter.” The envelope fluttered to th( floor at Jocelyn Millei‘’s feet She picked it up, glancing cov ertly at the impressive en gi-aving in the corner, then shi gave a cry of surprise. “Why Alice! I hope you haven’t go any money tied up with tha Graves person. Jack .says he’ a ci-ook and they’re getting th evidence together to prove ii Why, he brought home paper only last night that he sai woidd send that man to jail fo running a fraudulent busines: They’re in the library saf now !” Alice Burton was snappin the neck of her georgett blouse, a gay, light-hearte peach-blow aft'air, settling he smart little turban close ove with a handful of letters. “Seven for you, remailed from the sanitarium ! I siqipose now you’ll be doing all the bridey things — teas and luncheons and showers. It makes an old married woman like me envious, for, of course, no matter how nice it is later on. there’s nothing quite like being a bride!” Alice was glancing hastily thru her mail. “Why, I thought surely Td hear from Ned! I suj'pose he’s furious with me for running ofi; that way without sending for my own brother, but the train service is so bad — it wfiuld have delayed us a whole day—oh, here’s a letter from his office!” •She stood motionless, one hand clutching the brocade-covered jewelcase which was the first thing she touched. In the silence she heard a heart ticking like a watch. With the instinct to face lier fears she turned her head and found herself staring into the c>es of— Ned! her ears. “I’m going downtown,” she said, abruptly. ’phones, will you tell him I’m — shopping. 1 11 meet him <i the Biltmore for tea as we planned ...” She drew a pu across the pallor of her cheeks, setting them a-bloom, but h< eyes above their fiowering were dark with dread, and le^ Jocelyn in a pleasurable state of speculation all day. d'here nothing that gives us quite such mental .stimulation as tl[ cocktail thought that our friends may have done somethir| that is not (|uite— cpiite — you know ! rr i ' In Benjamin Graves’ handsome mahogany private office ha an hour later Alice Burton .sat, listening, .in a sort of stupor (j misery, to the smooth voice that was like a thick, viscid o “Very regrettable, of course, but considering that it was h second offense, I could hardly keep him any lon,ger. Alice wrenched her hands, in their pale-tinted, bridal-lookii (Tu'cvtH-ctght }