Pictures and the Picturegoer (October 1915 - March 1916)

PICTURES AND THE PICTUREGOER 23 Vv'KEK ending y. J9'5 THE WOMAN who DID ■^ Adapted from the Film of Grant Allen's Novel By IVAN PATRICK GORE. TEE great pbysicianlis tened intently until his son had finished the story that had brought him hastening home from a visit to the country. "And the young lady, what does she say ? " " She — :' Alan M err'i c k a n swered, flashing as he saw the twinkle in his father's shrewd eye — " she loves me " D f . Merrick sprang to his feet with a laugh. " T hen t ha t should settle the matter for both of you. Why. when I was your age my first call would have been at Doctors' Commons for a special licence— then I might have remembered my duty to my parents ! " '•Then I have your consent, father? " ''And my blessing, boy. . . . One .moment " he crossed the room to where his desk stood—" unless the world we live in has changed greatly since I was a boy. there are more useful things on a honeymoon than even the parental benediction. . . . Here you are, boy," be added, handing Alan a cheque", " and if that falls short of your requirements, don't be afraid to ask for more. . . . God bless you both ! " Wit h a heart as light as air, Alan ran down the steps of his father's Harley Street residence, and hurried in the direction of St. Paul's in search of the licence that would consummate his happiness. That being speedily procured, he turned Chelsea-ward, where the beautiful girl who had captured his heart, and who was shortly to be his bride, lived an unconventional life of girl bachelorhood. . . . Herminia ! Eermiriia! the name seemed to dance on his lips as he swung through the crowded streets to think that a few days hours would see the dream of that glorious summer realised. Again he smiled to himself as he remembered his sweetheart's rather peculiar views, and the warning her old father, the Dean, had seen lit to give 'him when he had SOUght the old cleric's |> uiediet ion on his suit. Eerminia is not the only woman w ho refuses to swallow all the teaching of convention," he muttered to himself as he turned into the house of studios and Bohemian residences where she lived. " but once she is a wife, of course, she'll climb down!" Another few moments and he held her close in his embrace, " My darling," he whispered, "everything is all right, < foodness !" she laughed, "howsorioua you are . . . Of course everything is all right." "I mean," Alan answered, " that I've seen my father and he's not only given us his blessing, but " Herminia drew away from his encircling arms. " Oh ! why could we not have kept our secret to ourselves, dearest P It was so beautiful so sweet — and now every one '' " Darling, sooner or later our love had to become known, so why not now p " Then, in a hasty attempt to turn his sweetheart's thoughts from the publicity she hated — "I tell you. the Gov'nor's a sport. , . . He handed out a rattling cheque upon the spot, so I slipped through and got a special licence before the coin could burn a hole in my pocket." "You did— what?-* Alan laughed. " Why. slipped up to Doctors' Commons immediately for the necessary little bit of paper. ... With this we can be married without a soul knowing, if you like, although I would like the Gov'nor and one or two of our most intimate friends to witness the happy event." " Give me the paper. Alan ! ** '"Why, certainly, my darling." With a light laugh he handed the licence to her. " It's quite in order. . , ," Very deliberately she struck a match. and, haying lighted the licence, hold it up until the charred ashes fell crumbling from her white lingers to the ground. " Herminia ! What do you mean !J ■' She faced him unflinchingly, "You know very well what my views on marriage are, and, dearly as I love you — passionately as we both love— I cannot sacrifice my views. Xo. dear. I would not risk my happiness even at such a price." With a ghastly face Alan turned away and reached for his straw hat. "Then all is over," he said, hoarsely. " I am a man. not a bloodies automaton, and 1 cannot go on like this. . . . My manhood (.•alls for all or nothing 1 " With bent head be walked towards the door, but as her soft fingers closed on his he swung sharply round. . . . The next moment her arms were round his neck, and she. all-compelling in the passion that held her. was dragging him down into her embrace; " Beloved," she whispered. \ on shall not leave me again. . . . Alan. I am a woman even as yon are a man. . . . Heaven made us for each other, deai and sent us to each other"- arm-. . . . O Alan! you have made me so happy.'1 » » Herminia Barton soon found that, however great her own personal satisfaction was at throwing the trammels of convention to the wind and practising the theories -he had so boldly preached, the effect on her friends and acquaintances— those who had most applauded her doctrines oi freedom being the most censorio astrous. ... In short, instead of being exalted as a -martyr, she Quickly discovered that she had descended to little better than the moral and social status of a pariah. . .. But the worst blow fell when, having whispered her great secret in Alan's ear. he hurried hot-foot to claim the assistance of his famous father. The old doctor heard him in grim silence to the end. " Have you made her your wife p 1 she an h< meat woman ? " be demanded, sternly. " Father, you know what Herminia's views are— what "I know nothing of the young woman a madness save that it ha dragged my name into the mire— that hei gr — disregard for ordinary decency has robbed me of my only son." "Father -" "I have nothing further to say. nor do I want to hear anything; hut if you have any affection left Eor me, and any control over your mistress, you will N U VPE US FOR EACH OTHEK, DEAr.Ksr,