Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 177, Indianapolis, Marion County, 25 November 1925 — Page 12

12

TO \ \ Story of a Modern Girl

Beautiful JOANNA MANNERS, clerk No. 87. is summoned by Harkness. the buyer, to appear before her employer, Mr. Gra.vdon. who delivers an overwhelming message. Someone whose identity she is not to know has placed $1.000,000 on deposit at the Metropolitan Bank, subject to her personal cheek. Gr;iy<(on convinces her there are no obligations and has his chauffeur take her to the banker. Andrew Efrpleston Graydon's old friend. Joanna offers to share her fortune with John Wilmore. her finance, but he is determined to earn his own way as an architect At a brilliant social affair, wealthy Francis Brandon, the banker's newphew, introduces her to Yvonne Countant, famous society divorcee, whose partner. Roddy Kenilworth, rich, romantic idler, admits he will try his hand for Joanna. He knows Brandon is the one thing Yvonn edesires that stie hasn t got. Joanna goes to live with Yvonne, where she meets Mrs. Doris Masks a Mr Pendleton and Lord Toddy Dorminster. who loses no time in courting Joanna. Jolui attends Joanna s coming-out party and realizes that her new setting has placed a great abyss between them. . , , . , Joanna visit John s rooms In his absence and takes a set of drawings. Joanna and Brandon are invited to lunch with Eggleston. In Egglestons library Joanna is mystified by a large old-fashioned portrait of a girl who resembles herself. By H. L. Gates CHAPTER XX In Eggleston’s Home butler, the ancient one lA. I whose y ears seemed to idenl£2J tify him with the old house, brought word that Mr- Eggleston would join them shortly, if they would be pleased t'o wait. Brandon when the old man had disappeared noiselessly, held out his cigaret case to Joanna. ..She shook her head. “No, not in here,” she said. “Somehow, it doesn't seem as if—, as if one smoked in this house, does it?" “That is a curious feeling,” he observed. “I don’t imagine my esteemed uncle smokes them, but I fancy he is not unused to them. Surely you would not adopt a pose of innonce of them because of a visionary regard for your banker’s tastes?” “No,” she replied, "I wouldn’t do that. But, just the same, I don’t want to smoke.” • She moved away from the table and to a window. Brandon, eyeing her closely, saw that as she crossed the room her glance fell again on the painting over the fireplace. She looked from the window out into the avenue, for a minute or two, then returned suddenly and went directly up to the fireplace- The action was as if in response to some occult summons from the girl who looked down so serenely from the canvas. Joanna rested her hand on the mantle ledge and gazed up into the face in the portrait. It was a picture that might have amused her, with its prim, voluminous skirts from under which just a boot toe peeped; its leg’o mutton sleeves and absurdly tiny waist that almost shrieked aloud of the corsets of yesterday. The sign of virgin modesties was there, in the hands that would have been demurely clasped if they had not held the age old weapon of defense —an ornate folded .an. All of this Joanna sometime, would have laughed at, as at a schoolday valentine. To her there never had been anything quite so ridiculously funny as any sort of fashion that had become passes—clothes, girls or conventions. But Brandon, who had dropped his cigaret into a gold ash tray and moved softly to one side of the room where, under pretense of examining a book, he might furtively watch the girl at the fireplace, saw nothing of amusement in her face. Instead he fancied that some of the wistfulness of the girl in the painting had reached down to the other. “Do you know who she Is —I mean, who she was?’ The voice seemed to float gently on the stillness of the room. Brandon didn't answer at once. 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her face that reminds me of someone—l don't know who. It makes me want to think.” There was a sound at the door, which was opened by the old butler. Eggleston entered the room. Brandon made no sign. He glanced from the girl to the banker, and then watched them both. * * * GGLESTON halted abruptly Ir* xvhen he saw Joanna, and 1 that she was lost in contemplation of the girl in the painting. He looked at Brandon, a mute inquiry in his eyes. Brandon shook his head. Eggleston stood, quietly, his head lowered a bit so that his study of the girl at the fireplace, whose back was partly turned to him, had the effect of an inner as well as outward scrutiny. Suddenly, as if she were startled. Joanna wheeled and met the banker’s stare. A hand fluttered nervously to her breast. For a brief moment she trembled, as if frightened. “I knew —that you were watching me!” she breathed. Brandon dropped his book. “The atmosphere is charged,” he remarked, dryly. “I am confronted with moods. Miss Manners refuses to smoke, despite the fact that on our way here she stopped to buy a charmingly expensive holder ornamented with emeralds. She found the room too forbidding. Now my uncle is mysteriously detached." To Eggleston he continued: “I hope your luncheon is not to be a heavy affair!” • Joanna was confused. She wanted to refute* that accusation that it was the house of her host that oppressed her. Eggleston rescued her with a stiff, formal greeting that ignored Brandon's allusions. Joanna made a valiant effort to throw off the shyness that constantly threatened her in the presence of the great banker who knew the secret of her mystery. She knew, Instinctively, that she had not been asked to visit him, at his home, without some very definite reason. But whatever this reason might be, she was convinced that it, also, Yvould be kept from her. Eggleston's phrases were formal, cold; yet, now and then, she was sure she detected something in his manner—that was quite all that she could determine about it, that it was, simply, "something,” As yet the mind of Miss Twenty-Seven had not become expertly analytical. “I understand,” the banker said, when they had taken their place at the table in a massive dining rtfom —a room as sombre as the library which throned the girl of the painting—“that you were definitely launched last night, and that you were quite a success. That Is what my nephew, here, has given me to understand.” “It was glorious!” Joanna agreed. "Miss Coutant is very good to me.” “You have not, then, formed any substantial ambitions. You are the trustee of a fortune. lam Interested in youi immediate future.” Joanna looked up, quickly. ”1 should be willing to follow any lnstru, *lon you give me,” she said, quietiA “If you give me none, I can do nothing else but enjoy myself according to my own inclinations. 1 have always wanted little things that I couldn't have. Now that I may have the big ones that are better, I shall simply have them —that’s all 1 can do, It seems.” “As your banker,” Eggleston returned, "I am wondering if, since that is your inclination, some of your securities should not be turned into cash. Already you have expended some 1130,000. That is within a few days. If you continue at that rate you will need actual money. You must give me my instructions.” * * * m GANNA saw that Brandon was watching her furtively. She felt the need of a defense,' but, instead, plunged into an offensive. "I am going to spend a great deal of money.” she said- "There are so many things to buy, and money doesn't seem to count for much in Miss Countant's world.” She was silent a moment, then asked suddenly: “How far does a million dollars go, Mr- Eggleston?” “Not Y’ery far,” he replied, "when entrusted to the three companions, Vanity, Extravagance, and Desire. They, I believe are the chief advisers of the young women of this day.” “Are they?” Joanna asked, earnestly. “I have always found that my chief friends were Misunderstanding, Distrust and Envy.” A great modern banker, a despot whose whim echoed as thunder through the marts of finance, and a modern, younger man, whose pastime was the baffling of feminine artifice, looked across their table into the fresh, young, modern face of a girl who was just blossomPuzzle a Day Ah/v/xX, e X?vnPVoxsV Johnny wrote Invitations to all the children for the annual family reunion. This is what the note said: “You are invited to spend Thanksglv ing with us. I hope you can come for we will have lots of fun. The drawing I am enclosing will tell you why. Just start at one corner and travel in a continuous line over every letter.” Can you read the secret message in John’s letter? Dust puzzle answer: The homeless waifs in the Philippines are divided in three groups. In the first group are 9,000 girls. In the second group, xvhich is 4-5 as large as the first, are 7,200 boys. In the last group are 1,800 infants. This makes a total of 18,000 children. Notice the digits in each instance total 9.

ing out from Miss Twenty-Seven of the Silks. The banker remembered, strangely, a vision of glaring legs and flarboyant rouge that came awkardly through his office door with the air of one who was being trapped. Brandon remembered the girl who had “no place to go,” except to her silk counter or her rooming house. And Joanna understood why they looked at her. She smiled at them both. “I couldn’t say that so easily,” she explained brightly, “if it wasn’t that I’d read, some place, that those three things were particularly wicked. I recognized them immediately as the ghosts that were always haunting me. John and Mrs. Adams misunderstood me if I went out and didn’t get home until four in the morning. They thought there couldn't be any place decent for a girl to he after half past ten. If I took a swallow out of their flasks the boys distrusted me when I drew a line they mustn’t cross, and said I was fooling or that I wouldn't take the swallow. And a lot of men and women who didn’t have the good time when they were young that I tried to have were envious of me because I happened to be young In these days Instead of them, so they said I must be bad like all other modern girls. That’s the way you count them up, you know —Misunderstanding, Distrust and Envy. I’ve always had the three of them In my mind, but I haven’t known people, before, to whom I could talk about the things* I really feel. I’ve just known boys, and their main line of talk has been. ‘Give me a kiss’.” “And,” Brandon urged, quickly, “your response to that ‘line,’ as you say, has been?” Joanna considered a moment. Then she said, as if she were speaking with judicial concern: “It doesn’t sound right, I know, but my idea has always been that today a girl shouldn't be afraid of a kiss, because it’s better to give and take them, and know what they amount to, than it is to think about them all the time and then take them too seriously, like girls used to do.” • * • ||—, '] GGLESTON was silent. BranIr* [ don, after he had toyed, for [ 7T!: J a moment, with a fork, deftly turned the conversation into a different channel. He invoked a discussion of the people Joanna had met the night before,, at Yvonne’s. “And you think,” Eggleston asked, "that these people are most desirable? That they represent the better things of life, and follow the paths along which a young girl should trod? "I don't know,” Joanna confessed, briefly. “I’ve got to find out. At least, they are not downhearted. I hate people who are downhearted. There’s time enough for that when the undertaker begins to count on you.” “For you, at least.” Eggleston remarked, "there Is quite an interval before that time arrives.” “Yes,” Joanna agreed. And when that time does come I want to look back and say O. K. If the money does that for me I’ll be satisfied. “It required money, then,” Brandon asked, “to make that prospect possible?” “You can’t get anywhere without money, can you? Everybody I know wants nothing else but that. That Is, everybody but one.” Eggleston caught her up, sharply. “There is one, then?” “Yes,” she replied. “One. But I don’t want to talk about him. now.” When they finished their luncheon it was Eggleston who found an excuse for Joanna to stand, for a short time, in the library again. And it was he who maneuvered her so that, for a brief moment, she stood close to the fireplace, beneath the painting

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in the gold frame. Then he dismissed her. He had asked nothing of her plans, and there had been only the brief discussion of the business of tranforming securities into cash. To Brandon, when they were settled in her car, she said, “He’s such a funny old man. Isn’t he?” Brandon agreed shortly. They had driven but a few blocks when Joanna unceremoniously put Brandon out of the cabriolet, depositing him on the sidewalk. “I have a terribly secret errand,” she explained, “and you must go on alone. You won’t mind, will you?” He laughed, good humoredly at his dismissal and was comforted by a wave of her hand, through the rear window of her car, as the cabriolet drew away. Then she picked up her speaking tube and gave her order to the driver. “Go back, as fast as possible, to Mr. Eggleston’s—the house we Just left." The afternoon had worn away when Joanna, something very happy shining in her face, came down Eggleston’s steps and stepped Into her car. If she could have looked back Into Egglestons library, Just then, she would have seen him, almost hidden among the darkening shadows of the great room she had just left, standing motionless, his eyes lifted in silent communion with the girl of yesterday In the gold frame. (Copyright, 1925, by H. L. Gates.! (To Be Continued.)

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