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Zurich Herald, 1919-11-14, Page 6NNTWOSSVC=7.,== �. _ . _-�..�,- �,•,rF,�M--� s i To begin with, they quarrelled. Being thorough in all things, they quarrelled as thoroughly as they had', loved. Then, vrth equal thoroughness' they swept up the ?iec s—returned the presents, !aimed . the ::eters, d , tried to i er sit : ie themselves a nd and Heir friends that the whole affair was washed out as utterly as if it had never happened. She stayed where she was, and he wen: to live in a different town. That's the prologue. The story commences when Doris,! coming out of a theatre with -her aunt,' met Billy for the first time in two years. Billy was not the pian with whom; she had quarrelled. Billy was merely an old and devoted chum. He and she had grown up together, and their'. friendship was of the quarrel -proof brand which neither absence nor proximity, letters nor the lack of them, can ever chill into indifference or warm into love. Billy had known: all about the dead -and -gone episode, and Doris had Iistened with sisterly affection and unfailing interest to most of Billy's love affairs. Love, in the old days, had been wont to attack Billy much as hay fever does its vic- tims—nothing serious, but bad while it lasts. Two years in the East had altered' Billy very Iittle indeed, to outward seeming. In the wide, carpeted pas- sage between stalls and exit he bore down upon Doris and her aunt with aII his old exuberance. "Spotted you just at the end of th.e show," he explained, after the first rush of greetings. 'I was upstairs, and, of course, when I saw you I dash- ed down right away, before you could give me the slip. And how are things going with you, old girl?" Doris gave him a resume, which he punctuated with questions, even as of i yore. Then, by chance, he mentioned; a forbidden name, and her pretty face hardened: and she stopped him with' an imperious gesture. "Please don't speak of him, Billy," ,z4fAT EADY 11) E D TO qtr N she said firmly. "I never want to think about him or remember him again." "Oh, I say!" exclaimed Billy, his eyebrows almost vanishing into his hair. "Is it as bad as that still?" "So far as I am concerned," said Doris implacably, "Derek has ceased to exist; and, above all things, I don't w'ih to be reminded of him. Nothing could pos ibly restore matters to their c:!d footing, or make amends for his behavior. That incident is quite— quite close.!!" "But I say, Doris—"Billy began protestingly. "Please, Billy!" Billy subsided. The aunt, who never cared whose toes she trod on, put in her contribution. "Sinful pride—that what it was!" she said. "Pride on both sides! You were a trifle •worse than he, but not much. Great pity, as I've always said. He was a good boy. Nothing but ridiculous pride!" "And you—what about you, Billy?" asked Doris hurriedly. At the bottom of her heart she knew perfectly well that her aunt was right. "Oh, top -hole!" said Billy en- thusiastically, and shuffled and looked down his nose, very pink and pleased. "The fact is, I—well, I met the dearest girl in the world when I was in hos- pital down South, and we got en- gaged. "Really? Oh, Billy, how glad I am!" exclaimed Doris sincerely. Billy grew pinker and his smile broader. The aunt, scenting immin- ent rhapsodies, cut in with more alacrity than consideration. "Do you think you can find us a taxi, Willie?" she asked. "We shah never get one if we wait much longer." "Right you are, Mies Anne," said Billy cheerfully, and piloted the old lady to a seat. "Just sit down here until I come back." It was at that moment Doris saw Derek. He was coming down the passage, his tall head well in view above the few late -corners who straggled out in front of himn. Before she could recover herself, his eyes had met hers and she knew that an encounter was inevitable. And he was accompanied by a girl. That did it. All the old pride, strengthened by repression, flew up ready for battle. She gave one quick glance round, as if for help; then turn- ed and followed Billy, overtaking him half way down the steps outside. In all his life he had never failed her yet. "Billy," she said desperately, "I want you to be a pal to me. I'm going to compromise you dreadfully!' "Pleasure's mine!" said Billy with- out hesitation. You could never take Billy at a loss. He was a pearl beyond price in emergencies. "Then we're engaged!" said Doris, finger on lips as in their schooldays' pranks. She transferred her diamond ring— a recent birthday present from her father—to the third finger of her left hand, and went back—to run clean into Derek, rendering escape impos- sible. There was nothing for it but to make the best of a bad job. His com- hanion had halted to straighten her air before a chance mirror. 'Well?" said Derek. He looked down at her with a queer, almost tender expression in his eyes, "You here!" Doris said foolishly. She ignored his proffered hand, and saw him flush at the slight. "Only for a day or two," he said. "You're looking very well." He caught sight of her left hand, and took it up quickly and examined the ring. "So you're engaged?" he said. "Yes," said Doris, and contrived a little smile and a lift of the eyebrows that tacitly inquired what he had' ex- pected. "I have been for some time. Are you surprised?" "I hadn't heard," said Derek. "Well, you have my good wishes, both 'of you. I'm married now, you know!" "Married!" said Doris. "Sure. Quite a hoary Benedict by this time." He turned to the girl at the mirror, She tucked a handkerchief into her vanity -bag, and came up to them. The light gleamed on her wedding ring. "I've met an old friend, Madge. This is my wife, Miss Harrier," He slipped his armn through the girl's with a surreptitious squeeze, and I the girl looked from Doris' face to his with keen, sweet blue eyes. Before she could speak, l3iily reappeared. "I've found a taxi—" he began; and stopped. Derek was regarding him with dil- ated eyes. "Ah, here's my fiance!" Doris said' coolly. "Billy, you and Derek used to know each other, didn't you?" "Ye -s, in the old days," said Billy, playing up nobly. Derek smiled. "I must congratulate you, Whyte," he said. "You've met my wife, too, 1 think?" "Yes, I rather fancy I have," said Billy. "Quite a reunion—what?" • Hare considerate Providence tools a hand in the person of the aunt, whom they had forgotten. She pottered pur- posefully round the corner, inquiring after her taxi. The group broke up. Billy accompanied Doris and her aunt to the bottom of the steps. "You're a brick, and I can never thank you," Doris whispered as the aunt bundled herself in. "You're sure —sure you didn't mind?" "Not a bit," said Billy. Quite illogically, Doris cried learself to sleep that night. She awoke thor- oughly miserable, with red eyes and a remorseful conscience, the sole mitiga- tion of her wretchednesebeing the re- flection that she had saved her pride. This cold conifort upheld her until the afternoon, when the maid ,announced Derek. She faced him from the window; he stood unsmiling at the other end of the room. "What was the idea, Doris?" he asked. "I'm afraid I fail to understand," said Doris coldly, her eyes hostile. "Saying you were engaged to Whyte." "I n't see how my engagement concerns you." "Considering that it doesn't exist, I think I have a right to inquire." "You forfeited all rights long ago. My affairs are nothing to you now." "On the contrary, they are every- thing to Hie." Doris was white, and quivering with anger. "I refuse to be insulted like this," she said. "I knew you were capable of a good deal, but I didn't dream that you could sink to such depths. You come to me straight from your wife—" "Oh, Doris, we've been a pair of fools, you and I!" said Derek. "She isn't my wife." "Not your wife's" "No; any more than Billy Whyte's your fiance." "Then what made you tell me she was?" "The same mad reason that pos- sessed you to say that you were en- gaged to Billy. Pride—sinful pride; as Miss Anne used to call it." He laughed a little bitterly. "Madge rose to the occasion well, I must say, see- ing that I sprang it on her without moment's warning. But I shouldn't have done it if I hadn't thought you really were engaged." Doris' sense of humor—always one of her saving graces—began to get the better of her. "And I shouldn't have done it if I hadn't seen you with a girl," she said. "Then you're not—you're not—" Derek came across the room. "There's never been anyone else in my life except you," he said. "On my honor, I've never cared for another woman—never tried to. Oh, Doris, kid, is it too late to pick up the broken threads and mend them? Is it too late?" Doris, suddenly beyond speech, shook her head and turned away. She felt his arm round her felt both her hands caught in one of his. "There's nobody else?" he whisper- ed. "No." "Doris! Doris! Oli, my dearest, I don't deserve this. Gan you ever for- give me for the past three years?" "Don't! It was my fault—mine all along. I spoilt those three years for you." "There wasn't a minute in them that could match with last night for wretchedness. When you'd gone home, I made Billy tell me what you'd said about me, and I thought then that I couldn't possibly stand a chance. I only came over because I was still hoping against hope." "Did Billy tell you that he and I weren't engaged?" "There was no need. I'd been with hint and his wife all the evening." "His wife?" "The one I borrowed. They've only just finished their honeymoon. He says Miss Anne didn't give him a chance to tell you the whole story." "Derek, what an idiot I've been! What you must have thought of ire— all three of you!" "Not a patch on what I think of myself. We've both been pretty fool- ish all this while, it seems to me. Don't you think it'•s about time we reformed ?" Doris agreed that it was. (The End.) Obeying Orders. Mike—"J heard you got a letter from your brother Denny." Pates"Indeed, 1 Mike ---"Was there anything impoe tant in the letter?" Pat ---"Wali, I didn't open it, for on the outside of the .envelope was print- ed, `Please return in five days.' So I sent It beck." . Cloths used for oiling floors or furniture should be kept in the open. Fires may start from the spontaneous combustion of such cloths if they are kept hi a closed receptacle, mlxittarcl'e Aiaimmeet Cares Diphtheria.. Wooden Submarines.- Who ubmabines.'Vho built the original submarine? The idea was first suggeetcd by a British seaman in 1578, but it remain- ed for a Dutchman named Van I)rcb- bol, to build a boat able to travel lin- der the water for a short distance. Van Drebbel constructed two sub- marines about the year 1020, which wore latuiched on the Thames. They , were built of wood, strengthened in- side with iron bands, and covered ex- ternally with tightly -stretched hides soaked in grease. The larger one pulled twelve oars, Which passed through holes in her sides. The holes were made water- tight by leather sleeves attached both to the oars and the vessel's side. Ac- cording to one account of the balance between flotation and submersion was so Fine that she could be kept below water by the oars alone, presumably used in the sante way as the diving fins of a modern submarine. Van Drebbel also invented what he called a "certain Quintessence," or chemical liquor, by which he was en- abled to renew the air in his boat When it had become vitiated. It is even said that King James I., cautious as he was, ventured on a submarine trip in Van Drebbel's under -water boat. Minard's Liniment Cures Colds, &o. French authorities estimate that 1 in every 30 of the allied soldiers who entered that country married a French bride. ,61l grades. Write for prices. TORONTO SALT WORKS G. J. CLIFF - 'TORONTO The Creamy Lather of BABY'S OWN SOAP softens and whitens, refreshes and deli- cately aromatizes the skin. Albert Soaps Limited, Mfrs., Montreal et BIS ' R"'.. C]'a =6217^ RSC.'Y<ZC, .'L1,41:= '-^^C'85fCf The clothes you were so proud of when new—can be made 'bo appear new again. Fabrics that are dirty, shabby or spotted will be restord to their former beauty by sending them to Parker's. lea Is pro . erly done at PARKER'S Parcels may be sent Post or Express. We pay carriage one way on all orders. Advice upon cleaning or dyeing any article will be promptly given upon request. P HKEITS DYE till' k(3, L m 1t Cleaners and Dyers, 791 Yonge St. Toronto vrilisc ur Ike y Bovril gives richness' and flavour to soups, gravies, and all made dishes. When you are cooking, keep the bottle where you can see it. Bovril not only makes the d sh more enjoyable, but also gives it additional food value. The body-building power of Bovril has been proved by independent scientific investigation to be from zo to 2U times the amount taken. Us i ,; vri1 your ci c kery 1 •.sus. marromme ams WaRE DOES Air GOLD GO? MIDI NS LOST YEARLY BY WEAR AND TEAR. Enormous Amount of Gold is Now Used in Jewellery-- . increase in Weal*. In 1846 the whole world produced less than thirty million dollars worth of gold. Then the California gold- fields were discovered, and iu four years production had leaped to ninety millions a year. In 1500 it was one hundred and twenty millions; by the end of the century it was three Hundred millions, while to -day the gold nines of the world are turning out very neary five hundred million dollars worth of gold every year. Within about seventy years the out- put of gold has been multiplied by seventeen, yet in the sane period of time the population of the world has increased by only ninety per cent. This being so, it might well be imag- ined that there would now be more than enough gold for the world's pur- poses, and that the precious metal would have consequently depreciated in value. As a matter of fact, nothing of the find has happened. In, the first place, while the population of the world at large has only increased by about ninety per cent. during the period mentioned,.that of civilized countries has doubled, and more than doubled. It is the civilized countries that use gold as a medium of exchange and as their basis of currency. Next, the individual wealth of these countries has increased enormously, and therefore their people require a great deal more gold for purposes of coin. Several countries which in 1550 were working on a silver or paper cur- rency have conte up to the gold stand- ard, the latest of these being Spain. Swallowed Up by Jewellery. The third and perhaps most impor- tant point of all is the enormous amount of gold now used in industry. For the arts such as jewellery, gold plate, gold leaf, for purposes of orna- ment and decoration, the world is now using three times as much gold in a year as the whole amount produced. in 1846—that is, about ninety, million dollars worth. The waste of gold is another factor which keep's down . the supply. Few people consider how great is the waste of gold by wear and tear. Pack two thousand half-soveriegns in a bag and send them on a journey of a thousand utiles: at the end of that journey one half -sovereign's weight of the gold is clean gone. It is in the shape of dust adhering to the inside of the bag. In the course of 0118 year's ordinary use a sovereign loses one and a -half per cent. of its weight, Careful calcu- lations go to show that the annual loss which actually takes place by wear and tear of gold coin can be no less than twenty millions of dollars. AI[ this prodig'i'ous sum is dissipated into fine dust, and utterly lost. Every ship that•goes to the bottom takes with her a certain amount of gold. It may be only a few dollars worth, or—as in the case of the famous Latine--a million may be lost in a minute. Every fire that occurs means a des- truction of gold, and there is never a minute, day or night, when scores of human habitations are not burning. London alone has 2,400 fires yearly. Besides all this, there is the matter of hoarding. In countries where banks are not found In every town, the people who have gold hide or bury it. In many cases they die without reveal- ing the secret of the hiding -place._ In this way India alone swallows up ialore than two and a half million dollars worth of gold yearly. China more thacu this, while Africa is at present absorb- ing gold in this way at the rate o more than five million dollars a yeah;. The money is paid as wages to thA Kaffir laborers at the nines, and by them carried away to their Iu'a>alls,' whence it never returns. His Report, During the war, in a certaiu part of our front in France where the railways were of the 03 order, Headquarters were much annoyed by the somewhat lengthy reports sent in regarding breakdowns, etc. To stop the practice, the drivers were severely lectured, and made to understand that in future reports were to be as brief as pos- sible. 'Phe very next day an engine driven by an Irishman named 11'lannigin ran t off the line, a.ncl after it had been re- turned to its normal position Mang - gin forwarded his report as follows:. "Offagitt. Onagin. Plantigin." "Under the magnetism of friendship the modest num becomes bold; the shy, confident; the lazy, active; or the im- petuous, prudent and peaceful,"—,, Thaekeray.