Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 126, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 May 1920 — BILLIE’S CHANCE [ARTICLE]

BILLIE’S CHANCE

By MILDRED WHITE.

(Copyright. l#2o, WeM.rn Newapaper Union.) • She was the most wonderful girl he had ever seen! She was “the girl” Billie told himself; all this, as he sat in desperate mood, on his own porch step. All his life he had been waiting for. just such a' girl, and now that she had come, he could make no progress whatever in winning her, or even in voicing his affection. He raked the gravel wrathfully as he thought of the many opportunities which had heretofore been thrust upon him, for wooing hours. Yes, thrust upon him, Billie reflected, by willing parehts. For Billie’s bank- roll was substantial. Billie’s family, beyond reproach, Billie himself good to look upon and equally “good” to talk to. And now that he was in earnest—deeply, deadly earnest—he was balked in his lovemaking intention at every turn. Billie felt that he could not survive another day without making love to Connie; He had held his tongue In check just as long as, he could. Connie was too pretty, too altogether Charming to be held from him longer. Yet, how he was going to express his feeling for the girl in the presence of her forbidding mother was more than Billie could figure out. Mrs. Webster’s frigid proximity alone, he was sure, would freeze the words on his lips, and Mrs. Webster was never absent during Billie’s calls at least, from her only daughter’s' side. Brandon had warned him of this when Billie requested the introduction to Constance.

“It’ll never be two’s company,” Brandon had said, “Mother is always on the job. . This mother intends to keep little daughter her willing slave in subjection. Wiser and braver men than you have .failed there. Bill.” But still Billie had persisted; to flfid his friend’s warning true. His cleverly planned invitations for drives or theaters had all been accepted in mother’s name—mother always went too; this was understood. Billie confessed to himself that Connie had a remarkable way of conversing with one—in confidence as it were—with her eyes. According to the luminous eyes of Connie, her mother’s presence between them, was as great a regret to herself as it was to him. And according to the twinkly eyes of Connie, she admired Immensely his clever, though useless maneuvers, to be rid of that presence. And lately—only very lately—according to the soft and wistful eyes of Connie, she knew an eagerness akin to his own, in wishing to hear the words that he so yearned to speak. With a gesture of weary despair, Billie arose from the porch step and proceeded “Webster-ward,” to fulfill an engagement to take Constance and her mother to a concert. He smiled, comforted, anticipating the girl’s nearness during the perforpnance. If he could be quick enough to push the old lady in the first seat, Connie would sit next to him. But alas! Billie was not quick enough. It was Connie, whom her mother’s directing arm, put Into the flrbt seat. So Billie sulked throughout concert, and Billie further sulked as Mrs. Webster, upon the homeward walk insinuated herself between Connie and himself, a relying

A strong breeze coming up in the early spring night, blew dust in their faces, and Billie felt a savage delight In forcing his charge against the gale. Her skirts buffeted her steps, and as Connie hastily withdrew an assslsting arm in order to cling to her own hat, Mrs. Webster’s new straw turban was merrily lifted by the breeze and carried swiftly off in the darkness. “Catch it Connie,” she gasped, and Connie dashed off In pursuit. Then as Mrs. Webster vainly peered about in the windswept gloom, Billie with a shouted word ran in an opposite direction. e “We will round it up,” he promised; but everything which lured as a shadow hat, proved to be no hat at all, and accidentally or purposely, which, I cannot say, Billie and Connie met in the darkness at the end of the Webster lawn behind a Webster tree. And Billie, believing that “it’s an 111 wind that blows nobody good.” proceeded to capture his own good and Connie’s slight figure, as well, at the same time. “No use looking further,” Billie murmured Inarticulately, “too dark, too breezy. Hat’s gone to Jericho by this time." “But mother,” whispered the girl, “she’s coming, I hear her.” “Let her come,” answered Billie wickedly, “we are harder to find back here than the hat.” And then Billie told his love story! It was eloquently told—and very Well —if shyly received. “Constance!” came a querulous voice. “Oh, Constance! where are you?” “Mother thought a lot of that hat,’* the girl said into Billie’s coat lapel, “I really think that you might get a long way Into mother’s graces, Billie, if you could bring It back in the morning.” “But, darting!” objected Billie. “If I could find that hat, what would It look like in the morning. It’s raining now.” “Mother bought the hat at Miss Wolcott’s,” Connie insinuated. “Miss Wolcott would know whereto find another like it, Billie.” And that Is the very way that Billie made the grand opening tor Ha victory/