The Easiest Way | Page 6

our eye on the main chance, that
there isn't much time for anything else. Besides, she's been playing
more or less ever since the season opened. I didn't see her in that last
piece, but they say she was fine. Of course, it was Brockton's influence
that got her the part. I expect to see her here to-night."
"So she's still stuck on Willard Brockton, eh?"
With a light laugh, she replied quickly:
"Laura's not the kind of girl to be 'stuck' on anybody--at least I hope she
isn't. She used to be inclined to get sentimental at times--she thought
she was in love and all that sort of thing. I soon knocked that nonsense
out of her head. 'Laura' I said--'you've no time to fool. You won't be
fresh and pretty all your life. Make hay while the sun shines. It's time to
fall in love when you get old and faded and wrinkled. Business before
pleasure every time.' You know, Brockton has been very good to her.
She was lucky to find such a steady. She has money to burn, a
luxurious apartment, automobiles, influence with the managers. What
more could she want? She'd be a fool to give up all that." Raising her
glass to her lips, she looked with a smile towards Madison.
"Here's how!" she said with mock courtesy.
But the big Westerner was paying no attention to them. Silent,
engrossed, he was intent watching the gay crowd around him, studying
with deep interest the faces of these painted courtesans, who brazenly
came to this place to offer themselves. He wondered what their
childhood had been, to what disastrous home influences they had been
subjected to bring them to such degradation as this. Most of them were
coarse and vulgar-looking wantons, with rouged cheeks and pencilled
eyebrows, but others seemed to be modest girls, refined and well bred.
These were plainly in their novitiate. Surely, he pondered, such a
shameless calling must be revolting to them; the better instincts of their
womanhood must rebel at the very shame of it. He believed that here
and there, behind the rouge and forced hilarity, he could detect signs of
an aching heart, a woman secretly filled with anguish. It gave him a

sickening feeling of repulsion. Others saw only the outward gaiety of
the scene; but he saw still deeper. He realized its tragic significance and
it filled him with disgust and horror.
Suddenly his attention was attracted to a young girl who had just
entered the restaurant. She was gowned magnificently enough even to
be conspicuous among that crowd of well-dressed women, and she
wore a large picture hat, crowned by expensive plumes. Close behind
was her escort, a middle-aged, stockily built man, with iron-gray hair,
also immaculately dressed. As the couple passed, the people at the
tables turned and whispered. When the newcomer drew nearer,
Madison could see that she was very young, and he was struck by her
laughing, dimpled beauty. She appeared little more than a child, and the
manner in which she was dressed--girlish fashion, with her wealth of
blonde hair caught back by a ribbon band--carried out the illusion
completely. Her complexion was so fair and fresh, her sensitive lips so
red and full, and delicately chiseled, such a look of childish innocence
was in her light blue eyes, that he wondered what she could be doing
among such questionable company. He concluded that the couple had
wandered in by mistake, not knowing the true character of the place.
Turning to Warner, he said in an undertone.
"Look at that young girl--the blonde with white plumes--coming this
way escorted by the man with the smooth face and gray hair! Surely
she is not an habitué of this joint!"
The lawyer laughed as he quickly drew Elfie's attention to the new
arrivals.
"Really, old chap--you're so green you're funny! Don't you know who
she is? Why--that's Laura Murdock--the cleverest of them all!"
CHAPTER II.
If Laura Murdock was not quite so young as she looked, she was far
from appearing her real age, which was twenty-five. A casual observer
at most, would have accorded her twenty. In her case Nature had been
unusually kind. Her skin was soft as a new-born infant's, her

complexion fresh as the unplucked rose, her expression innocent and
unsophisticated. A priest unhesitatingly would have given her
absolution without confession. Her baby face, her childish prettiness
and air of unaffected ingenuousness, her good taste in dress, her natural
refinement, and cleverness in keeping men guessing had been, indeed,
the chief keystones of her success. And, most remarkable of all,
perhaps, was that she had been able to retain this prettiness and
girlishness after what she had gone through, for, at the time this
narrative opens, Laura Murdock had already lived