Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 252, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 October 1915 — THE POPULAR GIRL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE POPULAR GIRL

By GERTRUDE MARY SHERIDAN.

There was plenty to Interest Vera Dane, when she arrived at Wardville to rest up trom city social duties at the home of her bright pretty cousin, Olga Wolcott. For one thing, a local department store was offering a flve-hundred-dollar piano to the successful winner in a voting contest as to the most popular girl in Wardville. “It’s settled beforehand," spoke Olga Indignantly. “You have heard me speak of Blanche Ridgeley. She prides herself as the exclusive queen of the so-called exclusive upper crust set of the district. She has cut me as too humble, or rather with too much openness in my opinions to accord with the artificial and superficial views of her group. I fear the taboo, as a relative of my poor discredited self, will extend to you also.” Vera shrugged her shoulders very indifferently.

“My dear,” she said, “that will not give me any anxiety. I have come here to rest. I long for a good full two weeks of bird song, sunshine and rest. So much do I crave it, that not one of my friends outside of the direct family know where I am.” Olga gazed thoughtfully at her cousin. She admired Vera and was proud of her. Olga’s lips curled scornfully as she contrasted this acknowledged leader of a chosen metropolitan social circle with the petty aspirations of Miss Blanche Ridgeley. A hope had come into* her mind that Vera might be incited to reveal her real aristocratic position and rally around her a select group, “just to

show that hateful upstart what real social distinction meant.” Vera’s announcement, however, effectually set aside her plans. It was destined that Vera should be aroused from her indifference within the next few days. She accompanied Olga to have a skirt fitted by a Miss Rose Tyler. The dressmaker’s little workrooms were in a poor part of the town, and as the pony phaeton drew up at its front Olga elevated her eyebrows at the sight of a showy automobile drawn up to the curb. “We are favored,” she observed satirically, “that is the grand Ridgeley turnout.” They entered the front room of the little shop to be met by one of Miss Tyler’s assistants, who requested them to be seated, as her employer was engaged in the fitting room. Thence in a few moments there emanated the echo of a sharp and angry voice, feminine but rasping. It suggested the malignant onslaught of some tyro-virago rating an inferior under the spell of meekness or fear. “Some more of the admirable Lady Ridgeley!” observed Olga in a whisper to, her companion, and Just then the delectable lady leader of high society in Wardville flaunted out, her features distorted with a rage that showed evil depths in that perverse nature. Miss Ridgeley nodded crisply to Olga, stared insolently at Vera, and Vera’s eyes flashed as the ill-natured aristocrat swept out to her waiting automobile. Then Vera arose to follow Olga, who-had started for the inner room. At its threshold Vera paused. It was to view a pathetic and moving scene. Miss Tyler, the little dressmaker, a fair sweet faced girl of nineteen, was seated beside a torn and disordered fabric of lace and satin, sobbing out her sorrow. After all her hafd work, from a vicious caprice Miss Ridgeley had gone into a transport of wrath because she herself had provided a wrong shade of trimming, had flung the garment from her and refused to pay for the work done upon it. Olga was on her knees by her side, her arms about her neck, trying to comfort her. Vera was deeply affected. She drew back, feeling that she was intruding. “It’s a shame!” exclaimed Olga, as they left the place. "I shall see that Viss Tyler does not lose the money she so sorely needs. What a viper Chat Ridgeley girl is! The most popular girl!’ She? Why, outside of the money spent on her by her servile

admirers Miss Tyler here would outvote her two to one! Let me. tell you. Vera—this Rose Tyler is the idol of the poor people around here. Her father, a doctor, gave his }lfe to them during forty years’ practice. They are flocking to the store to get coupons to vote for her, but of course their little money will not count against the Ridgeley dollars."

“She struck me as a ladylike beautiful girl." “She is Just that.” affirmed Olga. “To her, too, a piano would be of some use. Rose is a proficient musician and could add to her income, teaching.”

Vera was thoughtful all the way home. That afternoon she wrote a number of letters. She did not tell Olga, but Vera had decided on a plan to defeat the relentless autocracy of Miss Ridgeley and help the modest little dressmaker. All Vera had to do to have her numerous knight errants flock to her standard, was to advise them of her place of retreat. The first to arrive was Gerald Wynne. Of all her male acquaintances he was the oldest. They had known each other for years. A great many fancied it would eventually be a match, but no word of love had passed between them. Within three days there was quite a coterie at Wardville. Three of Vera’s girl chums arrived and were domiciled in the Wolcott home. The four young men put up at the hotel. Strangely Vera seemed to forget her meditated “resting up.” A series of enjoyable lawn parties and picnics filled a pleasant program, mere Informal affairs, and all the more charming for that. Miss Ridgeley and her friends proceeded to “sit up and take notice,” but no overtures were made, and milady of Wardville was piqued to realize that her petty exclusiveness had shut her out from association with “the real quality.”

“Oh, you clever, clever plotter!” burst forth Olga one day. “And so self-sacrificing!” “Why, what do you mean, my dear?” questioned Vera, but flushing consciously. “All you brought your friendß down here for, was to boom our sweet little dressmaker friend, Rose Tyler, and she is going to win, too!” Thanks to Gerald Wynne and his liberal cohorts, when the piano contest ended Miss Rose Tyler had three hundred votes over Miss Blanche Ridgeley, and the coveted instrument was her own. “I have a great favor to ask of you, Vera,” said Gerald, the day he and his friends were to leave Wardville. He looked very earnest. They were seated in the garden with no one near them. Vera regarded him flutteringly. He was a fine young fellow. He had been a loyal friend. Must she give him pain—for a deep emotion showed in his expressive eyes. Vera concealed her real anxiety. “A favor —regarding?” she intimated smilingly. “I wish your advice.” “In a matter of —” “Love!”

He spoke the word thrillingly, reverently. She felt sorry for him. In the intensity of his emotions he had caught her hand. “Gerald,” she said seriously, “I should have told you—you, my be3t, truest friend —that I have been engaged to Mr. Robert Layton, now abroad, for over six months.” “Good! grand!” Gerald amazed her by saying. “He is a fine fellow. Then, with a searching glance: “Oh —did you think I was going to propose to you? I, who long ago learned that you were a dazzling star and I an earthly glow worm! Mr. Layton! engaged!' Then all the more will you use your influence to win for me the woman I love —Rose Tyler.” “Oh, Gerald!” exclaimed Vera, relieved and radiant —“is this true?” “True as the esteem, the brotherly love I feel for you, will always cherish. And bless you, good, true sister and comrade, for making known to me the sweetest, loveliest creature I ever met!” And so—they were married. (Copyright, 1916, by W. G. Chapman.)

“I Have Come Here to Rest.”