The　Agony　Column
  by　Earl　Derr　Biggers
  CHAPTER　I
  London　that　historic　summer　was　almost　unbearably　hot。　　It　seems；　looking　back；　as　though　the　big　baking　city　in　those　days　was　meant　to　serve　as　an　anteroom　of　torture　　…　an　inadequate　bit　of　preparation　for　the　hell　that　was　soon　to　break　in　the　guise　of　the　Great　War。　　About　the　soda…water　bar　in　the　drug　store　near　the　Hotel　Cecil　many　American　tourists　found　solace　in　the　sirups　and　creams　of　home。　　Through　the　open　windows　of　the　Piccadilly　tea　shops　you　might　catch　glimpses　of　the　English　consuming　quarts　of　hot　tea　in　order　to　become　cool。　　　It　is　a　paradox　they　swear　by。
  About　nine　o'clock　on　the　morning　of　Friday；　July　twenty…fourth；　in　that　memorable　year　nineteen　hundred　and　fourteen；　Geoffrey　West　left　his　apartments　in　Adelphi　Terrace　and　set　out　for　breakfast　at　the　Canton。　　He　had　found　the　breakfast　room　of　that　dignified　hotel　the　coolest　in　London；　and　through　some　miracle；　for　the　season　had　passed；　strawberries　might　still　be　had　there。　　As　he　took　his　way　through　the　crowded　Strand；　surrounded　on　all　sides　by　honest　British　faces　wet　with　honest　British　perspiration　he　thought　longingly　of　his　rooms　in　Washington　Square；　New　York。　　For　West；　despite　the　English　sound　of　that　Geoffrey；　was　as　American　as　Kansas；　his　native　state；　and　only　pressing　business　was　at　that　moment　holding　him　in　England；　far　from　the　country　that　glowed　　unusually　rosy　because　of　its　remoteness。
  At　the　Carlton　news　stand　West　bought　two　morning　papers　…　the　Times　for　study　and　the　Mail　for　entertainment　and　then　passed　on　into　the　restaurant。　　His　waiter　…　a　tall　soldierly　Prussian；　more　blond　than　West　himself　…　saw　him　coming　and；　with　a　nod　and　a　mechanical　German　smile；　set　out　for　the　plate　of　strawberries　which　he　knew　would　be　the　first　thing　desired　by　the　American。　West　seated　himself　at　his　usual　table　and；　spreading　out　the　Daily　Mail；　sought　his　favorite　column。　　The　first　item　in　that　column　brought　a　delighted　smile　to　his　face：
  〃The　one　who　calls　me　Dearest　is　not　genuine　or　they　would　write　to　me。〃
  Any　one　at　all　familiar　with　English　journalism　will　recognize　at　once　what　department　it　was　that　appealed　most　to　West。　　During　his　three　weeks　in　London　he　had　been　following；　with　the　keenest　joy；　the　daily　grist　of　Personal　Notices　in　the　Mail。　　This　string　of　intimate　messages；　popularly　known　as　the　Agony　Column；　has　long　been　an　honored　institution　in　the　English　press。　　In　the　days　of　Sherlock　Holmes　it　was　in　the　Times　that　it　flourished；　and　many　a　criminal　was　tracked　to　earth　after　he　had　inserted　some　alluring　mysterious　message　in　it。　　Later　the　Telegraph　gave　it　room；　but；　with　the　advent　of　halfpenny　journalism；　the　simple　souls　moved　en　masse　to　the　Mail。
  Tragedy　and　comedy　mingle　in　the　Agony　Column。　　Erring　ones　are　urged　to　return　for　forgiveness；　unwelcome　suitors　are　warned　that　〃Father　has　warrant　prepared；　fly；　Dearest　One！〃　　Loves　that　would　shame　by　their　ardor　Abelard　and　Heloise　are　frankly　published　…　at　ten　cents　a　word　…　for　all　the　town　to　smile　at。　　The　gentleman　in　the　brown　derby　states　with　fervor　that　the　blonde　governess　who　got　off　the　tram　at　Shepherd's　Bush　has　quite　won　his　heart。　　Will　she　permit　his　addresses？　　　Answer；　this　department。　　For　three　weeks　West　had　found　this　sort　of　thing　delicious　reading。　　Best　of　all；　he　could　detect　in　these　messages　nothing　that　was　not　open　and　innocent。　　At　their　worst　they　were　merely　an　effort　to　side…step　old　Lady　Convention；　this　inclination　was　so　rare　in　the　British；　he　felt　it　should　be　encouraged。　　Besides；　he　was　inordinately　fond　of　mystery　and　romance；　and　these　engaging　twins　hovered　always　about　that　column。
  So；　while　waiting　for　his　strawberries；　he　smiled　over　the　ungrammatical　outburst　of　the　young　lady　who　had　come　to　doubt　the　genuineness　of　him　who　called　her　Dearest。　　He　passed　on　to　the　second　item　of　the　morning。　　Spoke　one　whose　heart　had　been　completely　conquered：
  MY　LADY　sleeps。　　She　of　raven　tresses。　Corner　seat　from　Victoria；　Wednesday　night。　　Carried　program。　　Gentleman　answering　inquiry　desires　acquaintance。　　Reply　here。　　…　LE　ROI。
  West　made　a　mental　note　to　watch　for　the　reply　of　raven　tresses。　The　next　message　proved　to　be　one　of　Aye's　lyrics　…　now　almost　a　daily　feature　of　the　column：
  DEAREST：　Tender　loving　wishes　to　my　dear　one。　　Only　to　be　with　you　now　and　always。　　None　〃fairer　in　my　eyes。〃　　Your　name　is　music　to　me。　　I　love　you　more　than　life　itself；　my　own　beautiful　darling；　my　proud　sweetheart；　my　joy；　my　all！　　Jealous　of　everybody。　　Kiss　your　dear　hands　for　me。　　Love　you　only。　　Thine　ever。　　…　AYE。
  Which；　reflected　West；　was　generous　of　Aye　…　at　ten　cents　a　word　　…　and　in　striking　contrast　to　the　penurious　lover　who　wrote；　farther　along　in　the　column：
  …　loveu　dearly；　wantocu；　longing；　missu　…
  But　those　extremely　personal　notices　ran　not　alone　to　love。　Mystery；　too；　was　present；　especially　in　the　aquatic　utterance：
  DEFIANT　MERMAID：　Not　mine。　　Alligators　bitingu　now。　　'Tis　well；　delighted。　　…　FIRST　FISH。
  And　the　rather　sanguinary　suggestion：
  DE　Box：　First　round；　tooth　gone。　　Finale。　　You　will　FORGET　ME　NOT。
  At　this　point　WEST's　strawberries　arrived　and　even　the　Agony　Column　could　not　hold　his　interest。　　When　the　last　red　berry　was　eaten　he　turned　back　to　read：
  WATERLOO：　Wed。　　11：53　train。　　Lady　who　left　in　taxi　and　waved；　care　to　know　gent；　gray　coat？　　…　SINCERE。
  Also　the　more　dignified　request　put　forward　in：
  GREAT　CENTRAL：　Gentleman　who　saw　lady　in　bonnet　9　Monday　morning　in　Great　Central　Hotel　lift　would　greatly　value　opportunity　of　obtaining　introduction。
  This　exhausted　the　joys　of　the　Agony　Column　for　the　day；　and　West；　like　the　solid　citizen　he　really　was；　took　up　the　Times　to　discover　what　might　be　the　morning's　news。　　A　great　deal　of　space　was　given　to　the　appointment　of　a　new　principal　for　Dulwich　College。　　The　affairs　of　the　heart；　in　which　that　charming　creature；　Gabrielle　Ray；　was　at　the　moment　involved；　likewise　claimed　attention。　　And　in　a　quite　unimportant　corner；　in　a　most　unimportant　manner；　it　was　related　that　Austria　had　sent　an　ultimatum　to　Serbia。　　West　had　read　part　way　through　this　stupid　little　piece　of　news；　when　suddenly　the　Thunderer　and　all　its　works　became　an　uninteresting　blur。
  A　girl　stood　just　inside　the　door　of　the　Carlton　breakfast　room。
  Yes；　he　should　have　pondered　that　despatch　from　Vienna。　　But　such　a　girl！　　It　adds　nothing　at　all　to　say　that　her　hair　was　a　dull　sort　of　gold；　her　eyes　violet。　　Many　girls　have　been　similarly　blessed。　　It　was　her　manner；　the　sweet　way　she　looked　with　those　violet　eyes　through　a　battalion　of　head　waiters　and　resplendent　managers；　her　air　of　being　at　home　here　in　the　Carlton　or　anywhere　else　that　fate　might　drop　her　down。　　Unquestionably　she　came　from　oversea　…　from　the　States。
  She　stepped　forward　into　the　restaurant。　　And　now　slipped　also　into　view；　as　part　of　the　background　for　her；　a　middle…aged　man；　who　wore　the　conventional　black　of　the　statesman。　　He；　too；　bore　the　American　label　unmistakably。　　Nearer　and　nearer　to　West　she　drew；　and　he　saw　that　in　her　hand　she　carried　a　copy　of　the　Daily　Mail。
  West's　waiter　was　a　master　of　the　art　of　suggesting　that　no　table　in　the　room　was　worth　sitting　at　save　that　at　which　he　held　ready　a　chair。　　Thus　he　lured　the　girl　and　her　companion　to　repose　not　five　feet　from　where　West　sat。　　This　accomplished；　he　whipped　out　his　order　book；；　and　stood　with　pencil　poised；　like　a　reporter　in　an　American　play。
  〃The　strawberries　are　delicious；〃　he　said　in　honeyed　tones。
  The　man　looked　at　the　girl；　a　question　in　his　eyes。
  〃Not　for　me；　dad；〃　she　said。　　〃I　hate　them！　　Grapefruit；　please。〃
  As　the　waiter　hurried　past；　West　hailed　him。　　He　spoke　in　loud　defiant　tones。
  〃Another　plate　of　the　strawberries！〃　he　commanded。　　〃They　are　better　than　ever　to…day。〃
  For　a　second；　as　though　he　were　part　of　the　scenery；　those　violet　eyes　met　his　with　a　casual　impersonal　glance。　　Then　their　owner　slowly　spread　out　her　own　copy　of　the　Mail。
  〃What's　the　news？〃　asked　the　statesman；　drinking　deep　from　his　glass　of　water。
  〃Don't　ask　me；〃　the　girl　answered；　without　looking　up。　　〃I've　found　something　more　entertaining　than　news。　　Do　you　know　…　the　English　papers　run　humorous　columns！　　Only　they　aren't　called　that。　　They're　called　Personal　Notices。　　And　such　notices！〃　　She　leaned　across　the　table。　　〃Listen　to　this：　'Dearest：　Tender　loving　wishes　to　my　dear　one。　　Only　to　be　with　you　now　and　always。　　None　〃fairer　in　my　eyes。〃　…　'〃
  The　man　locked　uncomfortably　about　him。　　〃Hush！〃　he　pleaded。　　〃It　doesn't　sound　very　nice　to　me。〃
  〃Nice　！〃　cried　the　girl。　　〃Oh；　but　it　is　…　quite　nice。　　And　so　deliciously　open　and　aboveboard。　　'Your　name　is　music　to　me。　　I　love　you　more　…　'〃
  〃What　do　we　see　to…day？〃　put　in　her　father　hastily。
  〃We're　going　down　to　the　City　and　have　a　look　at　the　Temple。　Thackeray　lived　there　once　…　and　Oliver　Goldsmith　…　〃
  〃All　right　…　the　Temple　it　is。〃
  〃Then　the　Tower　of　London。　　It's　full　of　the　most　romantic　associations。　　Especially　the　Bloody　Tower；　where　those　poor　little　princes　were　murdered。　　Aren't　you　thrilled？〃
  〃I　am　if　you　say　so。〃
  〃You're