Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 226, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 January 1923 — Page 8

8

ALICE ADAMS by BOOTH TARKINGTON Second novel in the Times series by Indiana writers Copyright, 1921, by Doubleday, Page & Cos.

Begin Here MBS. VIRGIL ADAMS never ceases to criticise her husband lor his willingness to remain with LAMB A CO., at a small salary and blames him for the trouble their children, ALICE, and WALTER have in not being able to hold their own In the social circle of the city. It is expected that the wealthy MILDRED PALMER will marry ARTHUR RUSSELL, her third cousin, and upon her lathers' death Mr. Russell will be given her father s place in business, but this arrangement does not appeal to Mr. Russell. He has been favorably impressed with Aiiiv and asks to take lifr to Henrietta Lamb's dance, but she gives tile excuse that her father Is not yet well enough. The real reason is that Miss Lamb has always snubbed her. Go on with the story. << T DON T? ” x I “No; you don't. Why, oven 1 with your miserable little salary you could have given her more than you have. You're the closest man I ever knew; it’s like pulling teeth to get a dollar out of you for her, now and then, and yet you hide some away, every month or so, in some wretched little investment or other. You ” “Look here, now,’* he Interrupted, angrily. "You look here! If I didn’t put a little by whenever I could, in a bond or something, where would you be if anything happened to me? The insurance doctors never passed me; you know that. Haven't we got to have something to fall back on?" “Yes. we have' - ’ she cried. “We ought to have something to go on with right now, too, when we need it. Do you suppose these snlpets would treat Alice the way they do If ehe could afford to entertain? They leave her out of their dinners and dances simply because they know she can't l v e any dinners and dances to leave them out ofl They know she car’t get even, and that's the whole story! That> why Henrietta Lamb's done this thing to nor now." Adams had gone back to his rubbing of his knees. “Oh. my, my!” he said. “What thing?' 1 She told him. “Your dear, grand, old Mister Lamb’s Henrietta has sent out invitations for a large party —a large one. Everybody that is anybody in this town Is asked, you can be sure. There’s a very- fine young man, a Mr. Russell, has just come to town, and he’s Interested in Alice, and he's asked her to go to this dance with him. Well, Alice can’t accept. She can't go with him, though she’d give anything in the world to do it. Do you understand? The reason she can't Is because Henrietta Lamb hasn’t invited her. Do you want to know why Henrietta hasn’t invited her? It's be cause she knows Alice can’t get even, and because she thinks Alice ought to be snubbed like this on account of only being the daughter of one of her grandfather’s clerks. I hope you understand!” “Oh, my, my my!” he said. “Oh. my, my!” “That’s your sweet old employer," hl3 wife cried, tauntingly. “That's your dear, kind, grand old Mister Lamb! Alice has been left out of a good many smaller things, like big dinners and little dances, but this Is just the same as serving her notice that she’s out of everything! And It’s all done by your dear, grand old —’’ “Look here!” Adams exclaimed. “I don’t want to hear any more of that! You can’t hold him responsible for everything his grandchildren do. 1 guess! He probably doesn’t know a thing about It. You don't suppose he’s troubling hi3 head over —’’ But she burst out at him passionately. “Suppose you trouble your head about itl You'd better, Virgil Adams! You’d better, unless you want to see your child Just dry up Into a miserable old maid! She’s still young and she has a chance for happiness, if she had a father that didn't bring a millstone to hang around her neck. Instead of what he ought to give her! You just wait till you die and God asks you what you had in your breast Instead of a heart!’’ “Oh, my. my!” he groaned. “What’s my heart got to do with It?” “Nothing! You haven't got one or you’d give her what she needed. Am I asking anything you can’t do? You know better; you know I’m not!" At this he sat suddenly rigid, his troubled hands ceasing to nib his knees; and he looked at her fixedly. “Now, tell me.,” he said, slowly. Just what are you asking?" “You know!” she sobbed. “You mean you've broken your word never to speak of that to me again?” “What do I care for my word?” she cried, and, sinking to the floor at his feet, rocked herself back and forth there. “Do you suppose I’ll let my

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‘word’ keep me from struggling for a little happiness for my children? It won’t, 1 tell you; it won’t! I’ll struggle for that till I die! I will, till I die—till I die!” He rubbed his head now instead of his knees, and, shaking all over, he got. up and began with uncertain steps to pace the floor. “Hell, hell, hell!” he said. “I’ve got to go through that again!” “Yes, you have!” she sobbed. “Till I die.” “Yes; that’s what you been after all the time I was gettin gwell.” “Yes, I have, and I’ll keep on till I die!” “A fine wife for a man,” he said. “Beggln’ a man to be a dirty dog!” “No! To be a man—and I’ll keep on till I die!” Adams again fell back upon his last solace: he walked, half staggering, up and down the room, swearing In a rhythmic repetition. His wife had repetitions of her own, and she kept at them in a voice that rose to a higher and higher pitch, like the sound of an old well-pump. “Till I die! Till I die! Till I die!” She ended In a scream; and Alice, coming up the stairs, thanked heaven that Russell had gone. She ran to her father’s door and went In. Adams looked at her. and gesticulated shakily at the convulsive figure on the floor. “Can you get her out of here?” Alice helped Mrs. Adams to her feet; and the stricken woman threw her arms passionately about her daughter. “Get her out!” Adams said, harshly; then “Walt!” Alice, moving toward the door, halted, and looked at him blankly, over her mother's shoulder. “What is it, papa?" He stretched out his arm and pointed at her. “She says—she says you have mean life, Alice." “No. papa.” Mrs. Adams turned in her daughter’s arms. “Do you hear her lie? Couldn’t you be as brave as she Is, Virgil?" “Are you lying, Alice?” he asked. “Do you have a mean time?” “No, papa.” He came toward her. “Look at me!” he said. “Things like this I dance now—is that so hard to bear?” Alice tried to say, “No, papa,” ngain, but she couldn’t- Suddenly ind In spite of herself she began to cry. “Do you hear her?” his wife sobbed. “Now do you ” He waved at them fiercely. “Get out of here!" lie said. “Both of you! Get out of here!" As they went, he dropped In his chair and bent far forward, so that his haggard face was concealed from them. Then, as Alice closed the door, he began to rub his knee.s again, muttering. “Oh, my, my! Oh, my, my!” CHAPTER XIV THERE shone a jovlaJ sun overhead on the appointed "day after tomorrow”; a day not cool, yet of a temperature friendly to walkers; and the air, powdered with sunshine, had so much life In it that it seemed to sparkle. To Arthur Russell this was a day like a gay •ompanion who pleased him well; but ho gay companion at his side pleased him even better. She looked her prettiest, chatted her wittiest, smiled her wistfullest, and delighted him with altogether. “You look so happy it’s easy to >ee your father’s taken a good turn,” he told her. “Y'es; ho has this afternoon, at least,” she said. “I might have other reasons for looking cheerful, though.” “For Instance?” “Exactly!” she said, giving him a weet look just enough mocked by her laughter. “For Instance!” “Well, go on,” he begged. “Isn’t It expected?” she asked. j "Oh, you, you mean?” “No,” Bhe returned. “For you, I; mean!” In this style, which uses a word 1 for any meaning that quick look and colorful gesture care to endow It with, she was an expert; and she carried it merrily on, leaving him at liberty one of the great values of the style) to choose as he would how much or how little she meant. He was content to supply mere cues, for al‘hough he had little coquetry of his own, he had lately begun to find hat the only interesting moments In his life were those during wdiicli Alice Adams coquetted wdth him. Hapiilv, these obliging moments extended themselves to cover all the time he spent with her. However serious she might seem, whatever appeared to be her topic, all whs thou-and-I. He planned for more of It, seeing otherwise a dull evening ahead; and reverted, afterwhile, to a forbidden subject. “About that dance at Miss Lamb’s—since your father’s so much better ” Site flushed a little. “Now, now!” she chided him. “We agreed not to say any more about that.” “Yes, but since he is better ” Alice shook her head. “He won't be better tomorrow. He always has a bad day after a good one—especially after such a good day as this is.” “But if this time it should be (Afferent,” Russell persisted; “w'ouldnt you be willing to come—if lie’s better by tomorrow evening? Why not wait and decide at the last minute?” She waved her hands airily. “What a pother!” she cried. “What does it matter whether little Alice Adams goes to a dance or not?” “Well, I thought I’d made it clear that It looks fairly bleak to me If you don’t go.” “Oh, yes,” sh 9 jeered. "It’s the simple truth,” he Insisted. “I don’t care a great deal dances these days; and if you aren’t going to be there ” “Y'ou could stay away,” she suggested. “Y'ou woudn’t!” “Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m afraid I’m supposed to he the excuse. Miss Lamb, in her capacity as a friend of my relatives ” “Oh, she’s giving it for you! I see! On Mildred’s account you mean?” At that his face showed an Increase of color. “I suppose just on account of my being a cousin of Mildred’s and of ” “Os course! You’ll have a beautiful time, too. Henrietta’ll see that you have somebody to dance with beMiss Dowling, poor man!” -x-Ua-t t vint somebody to see

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is that 1 dance with you! And perhaps your father—" ‘"Wait!” she said, frowning as if she debated whether or not to tell him something of import; then, seeming to decide affirmatively, she asked: ‘‘Would you really like to know the truth about It?” “If it isn't too unilatteiing.” “It hasn't anything to do with you at all,” she said. "Os course I’d like

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

THE OLD HOME TOWN—By STANLEY

to go with you and to dance with you —though you don’t seem to realise -hat you wouldn't be permitted much time with me." “Oh, yes, I —” “Never mind!” she laughed. “Os course you wouldn’t. But even if papa should he better tomorrow, I doubt ! f I’d go. In fact, I know I wouldn’t. There’s another reason besides papa."

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

“Bye-and-Bve Hard Times Comes A-Knoekin’ At De Door —”

“Is there?” “Yes. The truth is, I don’t get on with Henrietta Lamb, Asa matter of fact, I dislike her, and of course that means she dislikes me. I should never think of asking her to anything I gave, and I really wonder she asks me to things she gives.” This was a new inspiration; and Alice, beginning to see her way out of a pei-plexity, wished that she had thought of it earlier; she should have told him from

A Practical Demonstration

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the first that she and Henrietta had a feud, and consequently exchanged no Invitations. Moreover, there was another thing to beset her with little anxieties; she might better not have told him from the first, as she had indeed told him by intimation, that she was the pampered daughter of an indulgent father, presumably able to Indulge her; for now she must elaborately keep to the part. Veracity is usually simple; and Its to be

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

successful, should be as simple; but practitioners of the opposite are most often impulsive, like Alice; and, like her, they become enmeshed In elaborations. “It wouldn't bo very nice for me to go to her house,” Alice went on. “when I wouldn’t want her in mine I’ve never admired her. I've always thought she was lacking In some things most people are supposed to be equipped with—for instance, acer-

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tain feeling about the death of a father who was always pretty deoent to his daughter. Henrietta’s father died just eleven months and twentyseven days before your cousin's dance, but she couldn't stick out those few last days and make it a year; she was there.” Alice stopped, then laughed ruefully, exclaiming, “But this is dreadful of me!” "Is It?” (To Be Continued.!

JAN. 30, 1923

—By ALLMAN

—By AL POSEN