The Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1914)

MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE seasons, and ebbing (ides, and loves ae Like the young moon, it would have been humorous. "Well" Olive spread out her prettj hands in a little gesture of being rid of the subject, and laughed thai being the case^ there's nothing more to be said." When the doctor re-entered the library, his Pace was very grave, preOCCUpied. He handed young Harris a slip of paper. "There is the amount," ne saicl quietly. "I think that is all the answer required." His tone held no warmth of invitation, and, to the two watching him with the keen eyes of guilt, he looked suddenly old and tired. His eyes held the strained expression of one who has worried much, and his lips were tightly compressed. "Richard, what is it?" Olive's voice was fearful, as Ralph made his departure with something less than his habitual sovoir fnire and the doctor sank into his easy-chair. "Nothing, dear love" — he drew her to liini tenderly— "only that I've had a hard day. Mrs. Grant died this morning two operations this afterooon and a horrible slump in steel. It meant dealing out five thousand dollars to cover my margin — that's what young Harris came for. We cant afford to make inroads like thai I should have had a more level head than to begin playing the Street. Dane was so almighty sure of the proposition, and it seemed SO of him to put me on bul on, little love; I 'm sorry. , know I Beldom or oever allowthat pretty head to knew my private I must be getting old to Don! think of what I 've been •'. to babble on about 1 >in tulantlv. '• It |0OS in omplained; "it's given d lache I m going to re dinner doctor looked after her b ond m surprise. She was always n well balanced, bo on '•d. and sometimes lie regretted ion he had learnt, as we who grapple with realities do learn, that there is no perfection entirely without flaw — that sometimes the imperfection is the dearest charm. And he was tired tonight — his head ached, too. He fell asleep, dreaming that he was doling out packets of $5,000 checks to an Olive suddenly turned to ice — a beautiful, glacial figure. The country stretched for miles around, a plain all diamond-strewn with snow. The sun shone, and the air, dry, tonic, invigorating, stung Olive Gordon's cheek with an added glow. They had arrived only the night before — she and the doctor. The long years of a work well done, the stress of financial difficulties not clearly understood, the strain and moil of the daily grind had told at last on Gordon's constitution, and a long rest in the mountain air was the only remedy. As Olive scanned the landscape with misted eyes, she frowned impatiently. "How long, oh, Lord, how long?" she groaned inwardly. "It was bad enough in town, where I could divert myself at will; but here — and Richard an invalid " In the distance loomed a familiar figure — or rather a figure familiar thru many dreams — Ralph Harris. He was coming toward her with steps that barely touched the ground. "This is Fate!" he exclaimed exultantly— ''now will you believe?" Suddenly, to the restless girl, the country did not seem so dreary; rather were they the Elysian fields. she looked into the gray eyes all alight, and smiled. "I do believe." she said. Upstairs, in the suite of rooms assigned to them, the man who had come \\n a rest was reading a letter, with drawn face and grim lips. The letter meant another $4,000, or practical destitution — $4,000, or poverty for tiie girl-wife who was his heart's blood— $4,000, or the blur of the ruined speculator on that fair name he carried in his beloved profession. Ami that $4,000 he did not have.