Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 239, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 February 1923 — Page 8

8

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

rOUR mother’s gone downdownstairs,” he said in a 1 voice of distress. “One of the button holes in my shirt is too large and I can’t keep the dang thing fastened. I don’t know ruat to do about it! I only got one other white shirt, and it’s kind of ruined; I tried it before I did this one. Do you s'pose you could do anything?” “I’ll see,” she said. "My collar’s got a frayed edge,” he complained, as she examined his troublesome shirt. “It's a good deal like wearing a saw; but I expect it’ll wilt down flat pretty soon, and not bother me long. I’m liable to wilt down flat, myself, I expect; I don’t know as I remember any such hot night in the last ten or twelve years.” He lifted his head and sniffed the flaccid air, which was laden with a heavy odor. “My, but that smell is pretty strong," he said. “Stand still, please, papa,” Alice begged him. "I can’t see what’s the matter if move around. How absurd you are about your old glue smell, papa! There Isn't a vestige of it, of course.” “I didn't mean glue,” he informed her. “I mean cabbage. Is that fashionable now. to have cabbage when there’s company for dinner?” “That isn’t cabbage, papa. It’s Brussels sprouts.” “Oh, Is It? I don’t mind it much, because it keeps that glue smell oft me, but It’s fairly strong. I expect you don’t notice it so much because you been in the house with It all along, and got used to it while it was growing.” "It is pretty dreadful,” Alice said. “Are all the windows open downstairs?” “I’ll go down and see. if you’ll just fix that hole up for me.” “I’m afraid I can’t,” she said. “Not unless you take your shirt off and bring it to me. I’ll have to sew the hole smaller.” “Oh, well, I’ll go ask your mother “No,” said Alice. “She’s got everything on her hands. Run and take it off. Hurry, papa; I’ve got to arrange the flowers on the table before he comes.” He went away, and came back presently, half undressed, bringing the shirt. “There’s one comfort,” he remarked, pensively, as she worked. "I’ve got that collar off —for a while, anyway. I wish I could go to the table like this: I could stand it a good deal better. Do you seem to be making any headway with the dang thing?” "I think probably I can ” Downstairs the door-bell rang, and Alice’s arms jerked with the shock. “Golly!” her father said. "Did you stick your finger with that fool needle?” She gave him a blank stare. “He’s come!” She was not mistaken, for, upon the little veranda. Russell stood far ing the closed door at last. However, it remained closed for a considerable time after he rang. Inside the house the warning summons of the bell was immediately followed by another sound, audible to Alice and her father as a crash preceding a series of muffled falls. Then came a distant voice, bitter in complaint. “Oh, Lord!” said Adams. "What’s that?” Alice went to the top of the front stairs, and her mother appeared in the hall below. “Mama!” Mrs. Adams looked up. “It’s all right,” she said, in a loud whisper. “Gertrude fell down the cellar stairs Somebody left a bucket there, and—” She was interrupted by a gasp from Alice, and hastened to reassure her. “Don’t worry, dearie. She may limp a little, but —” Adams leaned over the banisters. “Did she break anything?” he asked. “Hush!” his wife whispererd. “No She seems upset and angry about it. mere than anything else; but she’s rubbing herself, and she’ll be all right in time to bring in the little sandwiches. Alice! Those flowers!" “I know, mama. But—” "Hurry!" Mrs. Adams warned her “Both of you hurry! I must let him in!” She turned to the door, smiling cordially, even before she opened it. “Do come right in, Mr. Russell," she said, loudly, lifting her voice for additional warning to those above. “I’m so glad to receive you _ informally, this way. In our own little home. There’s a hatrack here under the stairway,” she continued, as Russell, murmuring some response, came into ’he halL “I’m afraid you’ll think it’s A THREE DAYS’ COUGH IS YOUR DANGER SIGNAL Chronic coughs and persistent colds lead to serious troftble. You can stop them now with Creomulsion, an emulsified creosote that is pleasant to take. Creomulsion Is anew medicnJ discovery with twofold action; it soothes >nd heals the inflamed membranes tnd kills the germ. Os all known drugs, creosote is recognized by the medical fraternity as the greatest healing agency for the aeatment of cnronic cot ghs -aid colds and other forms of throat troubles. 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almost too informal, my coming to the door, but unfortunately our housemaid’s just had a little accident —oh. nothing to mention! 1 just thought we better not keep you waiting any longer. Will you step into our living room, please?” She led the way between the two small columns, and seated herself in one of the plush rocking chairs, selecting it becauso Alice had once pointed out that the chairs, themselves, were less noticeable when they had people sitting in them. “Do sit down, Mr. Russell; It’s so very warm it’s really quite a trial Just to stand up!” "Thank you,” he said, as he took a seat. “Yes. It is quite warm.” And this seemed to be the extent of his responsiveness for the moment- He was grave, rather pale; and Mrs. Adams’ impression of him, as she formed it then, was of “a distin-guished-looking young man, really elegant in the best sense of the word, but imid and formal when he first meets you." She beamed upon him, and used with everything she said a continuous accompaniment, of laughter. meaningless except that it was meant to convey cordiality. "Os course, we do have a great deal of warm weather,” she informed him. “I’m glad it’s so much cooler In the house than it Is outdoors.” “Yes,” he said. "It is pleasanter indoors. And, stopping with this single untruth, he permitted himself the briefest blance about the room; then his eyes returned to his smiling hostess. "Most people make a great fuss about hot weather,” she said. “The only person I know who doesn’t mind the heat the way other people do is Alice. She always seems as cool as if we had a breeze blowing, no matter how hot It is. But then she’s so amiable she never minds anything. It’s just her character. She’s always been - that way since she was a little child; always the same to everybody, high and low. I think character’s the most important thing in the world, after all, don’t you, Mr. Russell?” "Yes,” he said solemnly; and touched his bedewed forehead with a handkerchief. “Indeed it is,” she agreed with herself, never failing to continue her murmur of laughter. “That’s what I’ve always told Alice: but she never sees anything good in herself, and she just laughs at me when I praise her. She sees good in everybody else in the world, no matter how unworthy they are or how they behave toward her: but 6he always underestimates herself. From the time she was a little child she was always that way. . When some other little girl would behave selfishly or meanly toward her. do you think she’d come and tell me? Never a word to anybody! The little thing was too proud! She was the same way about school. The teacher had to tell me when she took a prize; she’d bring it home and keep it in her room without a -word about it to her father and mother. Now. Walter was Just the other way. Walter would ” But here Mrs. Adams checked herself, though she Increased the volume of her laughter. "How silly of me!’’ she exclaimed. “I expect you know how mothers are. though, Mr. Russell. Give qs a chance and we’ll talk about our children forever! Alice would feel terribly if she knew how I’ve been going on about her to you.” In this Mrs. Adams was right, though she did not herself suspect It, and upon an almost inaudible word or two from him she went on with her topic. "Os course my excuse is that few mothers have a daughter like Alice. I suppose we all think the same way about our children, but ome of us must he right when we feel we’ve got the best. Don’t you think so?” "Yes. Yes, Indeed.” "I’m sure I am!" she laughed. "I’ll i let the others speak for themselves.” ; She paused reflectively. “No; I think a mother knows when she’s got a treasure In her fanvly. If she hasn’t got one, she’ll pretend the has, maybe: but If she has, she knows it. T certainly know I have. She’s always been what people call ‘the joy of the household’—always cheerful, no matter what went wrong, and always ready to smooth things over with some bright, witty saying. You must be sure not to tell we’ve have this little chat about her —she’d Just be furious with me —but she Is such a dear child! You won’t tell her, will you?” “No,” he said, and again applied the handkerchief to his forehead for an Instant. “No, I’ll ’’ He paused. and finished lamely: “I’ll—not tell her.” Thus reassured, Mrs. Adams set before him some details of her daugh ter’s popularity at sixteen, dwelling upon Alice’s Impartiality among her young suitors: "She never could bear to hurt their feelings, and always treated all of thrn just alike.' About half a dozen of them were Just bound to marry her! Naturally, her father and I considered any such idea ridiculous; she was too young, of course.” Thus the mother went on with her biographical sketches, while the pale young man sat facing her under ttye hard overhead light of a white globe, set to the ceiling; and listened without interrupting. She was glad to have the chance to tell him a few things about Alice fie might not have guessed for himself, and. indeed, she had planned to find such an opportunity, if she could: but this was getting to be altogether too much of one, she felt. As time passed, she was }ike an actor who must Improvise to keep the audience from perceiving that his fellow-players have missed iheir cues; but her anxiety was not betrayed to the still listener; she had a valiant soul. Alice, meanwhile, had arranged her little roses on the table In as many ways, probably, as there were blossoms: and she was still at It when her father arrived in the dining-room by way of the back stairs and the kitchen. “It’s pulled out again.” he said. “But I guess there’s no help for it now; it's too late, and anyway It iets some air into me when it bulges. I can sit so’s it won’t be noticed much. I expect. Isn’t it time you quit bothering at*>ut the looks of the table? Your motive’s been talking to him about

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half an hour now, and 1 had the Idea he came on your account, not hers. Hadn't you better go and —” “Just a minute,” Alice said, piteously. “Do you thing it looks all right?” "The flowers? Fine! Hadn’t you better leave ’em the way they are, though?” “Just a minute,” she begged again. “Just one minute, papa!” And she exchanged a rose in front of Russell’s

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

THE OLD HOME TOWN—Bv STANLEY

plate for one that seemed to her a little larger. “You better come on,” Adams said, moving to the door. “Just one more second, papa.” She shook her head, lamenting. “Oh, I wish we’d rented some silver!” "Why?" "Because so much of the plating has rubbed off a lot of It. Just a second, papa.” Apd as she spoke she hastily went round the table, gather-

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

ing the knives and forks and spoons ; that she thought had their plating j best preserved, and exchanging them (for more damaged pieces at Russell’s j place. “There!” she sighed, finally. “Now I’ll come.” But at the door she | paused to look back dubiously, over her shoulder. | “What’s the matter now?” | “The roses. I believe after all I shouldn’t have tried that vice effect: I ought to have kept them in water, in

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the vase. It’s so hot, they already begin to look a little wilted, out on the dry tablecloth like that. I believe I’ll—” "Why, look here, Alice!” he remonstrated, as she seemed disposed to turn back. “Everything’ll burn up on the stove if you keep on—” “Oh, well,” she said, “the vase was terribly ugiy; I can’t do any better. We’ll go In.” But with her hand on the door-knob she paused. "IS, papa.

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

Ol'R BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

We mustn’t go in by this door. It might look as if ” "As If what?” “Never mind.” she said. "Let’s go the other way.” “I don’t see what difference it makes,” he grumbled, but nevertheless followed her through the kitchen, and up the back stairs, then through the upper hallway. At the top of the front stairs she paused for a moment, drawing a deep breath and than, be-

WEDNESDAY, FEB. 14, 1923

—By ALLMAN

—Bv AL POSEN

fore her father’s puzzled eyes, a trans- < formation came upon her. Her shoulders, like her eyelids, had been drooping, but now she threw her head backj the shoulders straightened, and the lashes lifted over sparkling eyes; vivacity came to her whole body In a flash, and she tripped down the steps, with her pretty hands rising In time to the lilting little tune she had begun to hum. (Ti> Be fconiinuedj