Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

Photoplay Magazine 39 gard in your slavery to that man — shattered all that was left to me, my memories, and now — this!" He came closer, his face growing white. "Why should I waste money on a woman whose looks and vivacity are gone — who is frankly selling herself — " As the significance of his words sank into her dazed consciousness,'at the knowledge that any man who knew her as well as had Arthur Crewe could so have misunderstood her, Madge drew herself up to her full height. "You beast! You dared imagine that I meant — " "What did you mean?'' asked Crewe in honest bewilderment. "I meant myselj — myself with all the power for working, and saving and starving. I'll work my hands to the bone until the debt is paid." "Madge! Forgive me. I didn't know — " Crewe was humbly apologetic. "There are some things a woman never forgives," Madge said quietly. "Let me tell you that no matter what you decide to do, I shall never forget the abominable insult you have offered me today. I tell you that, so we may be above board. If I had not been desperate, you may know that I would never have come in the first place." DAN HILLYER got safely away to San Francisco that afternoon, without guessing what the cost had been to his wife. "God help us both," Madge whispered to herself as the train pulled out of the depot. Then she started wearily back to the East Side and the shabby apartment. When a husband pays, as interest on the bonds of matrimony, pretty little attentions to his wife — ARTHUR CREWE spent the most unhappy hours of his life the night after Madge's call. Now that the first shock of seeing her had softened, he was tormented with the knowledge of her poverty. He was tortured with the thought that he had misunderstood her, that he had insulted her. And he knew that though the old fairy Madge had disappeared, it was the soul of her that was beautiful — that he loved. In the morning he left the house to see if walking would relieve his mental distress, and almost without knowing it, he found himself at the address Madge had given him as hers. With some difficulty he ferreted out the door to the Hillyer apartment and rapped. From within came the sound of some one walking, then there was a dull thud and all was very still. Crewe rapped again and again, each time louder, until the janitress heard him and came running. . When Mrs. Sherman had opened the door with her keys, they found Madge lying still and white on the floor. Arthur Crewe picked the unconscious form up in his arms and laid her gently on the bed, then rushed out to call an ambulance. "Poor dear, poor dear," sighed Mrs. Sherman when he was back again. "Many's the time I told her she should be more careful of herself — not work so hard." "What are these?" inquired Crewe, noticing a pile of envelopes on the table. They were addressed to "Daniel Hillyer, Care Coast Smelting Company, City Bank Building. San Francisco, Calif." "She wrote a letter for each day," answered the woman. — The "K. P. " of the home ceases to be a drudgery and the bluebird of happiness flies in. wiping her eyes. "It was the last thing she had the strength to do. I'm to send one to him on every morning's mail — so he won't worry." As the ambulance bearing Madge Hillyer to her hour of trial clanged out of sight, a telegraph messenger arrived at the apartment door. Arthur Crewe was just leaving. He opened the envelope, addressed to Hillyer. "If not started," the telegram read, "postpone trip. Must delay action on patent until vice president's return from South .America next spring. Am writing. — Elijah P. Barnard." Crewe folded the envelope with a grim smile on his face. What fateful irony this was. ARTHUR CREWE hovered in the background the next few days while Dan Hi dyer's wan young wife hung between life and death. He saw to it she had a private room and paid for extra nurses. But she did not improve. She took no interest in anything — not even her baby. "She hasn't the will to live. Her vitahty's been sapped. The fight has gone out of her," the specialist said. To Crewe as he heard this there came an idea for forcing the young mother to save her own life. But when told of the plan, the doctor stared at Crewe as if he were mad. "Why, man, she'd hate the very ground you walk on if she should live." But Crewe was firm. "She does anyhow," he mused. Then aloud: "It will make her fight." A moment later the doctor bent over Madge's drawn face and spoke her name very harshly. 'When the dark lids stirred, he said slowly, but sternly: "Mrs. Hillyer. Listen to me. Your husband has failed. Do you hear me? They won't buy his patent. And Mr. Crewe wants to know when he is going to get his money." Madge's eyes opened wider. "The money you borrowed," continued the doctor. "Mr. Crewe wants to know if you are going to cheat him out of it." "Tell— him," the doctor had to bend low to catch the faint words "—I'll— pay." Madge's brown eyes closed. "By Jove, Crewe," said the specialist, coming into the corridor, "you're a better doctor than I am." WHEN Madge Hillyer returned home with baby Dan, three letters — registered — awaited her. As she opened them, a perfect shower of money orders fell to the floor. Mrs. Sherman, who had brought the letters, picked up the pieces of paper. There were ten of them for one hundred dollars each. A fortune! "I followed Barnard to Butte and back again — and was as welcome as the hives," read one of Dan's letters. "He said I was just wasting my time and his. Then overnight he changed — Heaven only knows why. The next day he received me with open arms. Bonus of $15,000 and a royalty guaranteed not to drop below $10,000 a year for the next fifteen years." "We're rich, Danny boy," cried Madge, holding her baby tight to her heart. "We're rich." Before Dan's return she had deposited the money orders and mailed Crewe a check for the $300, wishing to wash her