Indianapolis Times, Volume 39, Number 107, Indianapolis, Marion County, 13 September 1927 — Page 5

B®PT. 13,1927

The SNOB

It less than chivalrous not to have tried to put his arm about her. She repulsed him abruptly, remembering another night when for the first time she had permitted a boy’s embrace. When he chided her, gently, for “bein’ a reguldh spirit of independence,’’ threatening to call her "little 1776,” she smiled appreciatively. But a curious tingling in the back of her neck prevented her yielding to his artistic pleading. His softvoiced eloquence possessed a professional quality which had been lacking that night on the river— The next day Nancy bade a tearful farewell to the aunts and her grandmother. She felt their affection for her was sincere. “I wish I could stay here ALWAYS,” she cried, wiping her eyes. But the moment she entered the train her visit took on the attributes of a dream. Had all these wonderful things really happened to HER? She glanced at the simple traveling dress she was wearing—at the demure little hat which rested on the seat. It was over, but the memories would dance like fairies through the dull, approaching days. She was returning with a changed wardrobe, and was more important, an improved technique. She would never make advances to any one again. It wouldn’t be necessary.. Nancy was right. Her social standing in the little California town rose from that day. She was fortified now not only by her inner confidence, but by the reports Raymond Hollandshee not hesitate to repeat.

Nancy’s attitude ceased to be apologetic and eager. She was the one now who made suggestions. She injected into conversation casual mention of the “servants” her grandmother used to have. “Os course, they have hired help now like everyone else,” laughed Nancy, “but my father’s old colored majnmy is still living. One of my aunts took me to see her. The poor thing cried. She said I was the image of my grandmother.” From that day, too,* dated her criticism of her mother’s taste. In clothes, furniture, manners—indeed, almost everything! Although Nancy told herself she loved her mother and appreciated the sacrifices Amanda had made for her. Nancy rearranged £he chairs, insisted on sheer white curtains, dragged down tpriotographs and removed the family Bible. Amanda watched her, torn between anguish and pride. She could, see that the visit to Virginia hafl put the finishing touches to her high-born little daughter. “Aren’t you even going to leave your baby pictures?” she inquired anxiously. , } “I am not,” Nancy replied. There were a good many of them. Too many. Nancy in the roundeyed dignity of babyhood, flat on her barp “tummy.” At 3 years, in velvet coat and hood, holding a tiny muff against

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Raymond’s eyes followed her, pleased with her as he requested a dance. ' “I have this one,” she answered.

a country photographer’s conception of snowflakes. At 7, enlarged in color, with wistful, piquant face and cherry-col-ored ribbons atop her chestnut curls. . At 10, obeying with a sacred grimace' her mother’s injunction to “Smile, darling.”* 'At 13, almost tragic with the realization of approaching womanhood. Amanda held this in roughened hands. “It never did look like you.” Nancy knew that it did. Knew, too, with the scathing honesty of adolescence, why her mother had ceased dragging her to the photographer’s for a time. Later, when her awkward thinness had softened into tender curves, Amanda had taken her to San Francisco for a “portrait.” The artist had caught the dor .inant note in the girl’s character. There was pride in that small, lifted head in the delicately arched brows, the straight, little nose and pointed chifi. “Anyone can see,” exulted Amanda, “that you are a lady.” Remembering her grandmother’s advice, this remark grated on Nancy. But she weakened when she saw the tears in her mother’s eyes. “All right. Let it stay. But that’s the only one—positively.” She was surprised at the question her father asked. Irrelevant ques-

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tions! Did grandmother still wear a jet comb in the back of h:r hair? Was Caroliryj as much of an old maid as ever? What did Jane have to say? Anything about him? Long afterward Nancy learned that Auntie Jane had been his favorite “little sister.” She would not have suspected it now. When he saw the pink and gold decanter, standing bravely on the shabby mantel, he snorted, “Who gave you that gimcrack?” “My grandmother,” Nancy replied, proudly. He said no more, but after supper, when she was clearing off the dining table, she saw him standing before it, thoughtfully. The next day, meeting Edith Harcourt or, the street, Nancy managed to impart the information that she had seen Raymond Hollandsbee at a dance at the Larabees in Virginia. Edith’s blue eyes were round'With astonishment. s“You DID? What were you doing there? I mean, whom were you visiting. “I was visitin’ my Grandmother Gage,” Nancy replied, with just a trace of the accent she affected for several weeks after her return. She could see that Edith was impressed and it gratified her., But not so much as the letter which arrived just 9 day before Raymond Hollandsbee. CHAPTER IV “Dear Nancy,” the letter said. Nancy glanced down the page to see how it ended. “Yours, R. B. Hollandsbee.” That was "dandy.” Awfully good for Raymond. He might so easily have said “Yours truly,” or "Sincerely yours.” or something equally meaningless. But “Yours,” written boldly like that without Qualifications, was almost a daclaration. Sighing with relief, Nancy returned to the actual contents of the letter. He wanted her to know he’d been thinking of her “a lot.” She had certainly left “a lot of friends” in Virginia. And he hoped

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v Vida Hurst

to see “lots more” of her when he returned. “Yours,” etc. From a literary standpoint it left much to be desired. But, sentimentally speaking, it w&s balm to Nancy’s heart. If he would live up to the promise this letter implied her position was established. Dreamy-eyed, she pictured herself in the distant Suture mistpess of a beautiful home. The mother of two or three darling children, who would call the haughty Mrs. Hollandsbee "grandmother.” , In the meantime she was faced by her last year in high school. But how different it was going to be than ■she had anticipated at the close of the term, She was right in this, prediction. It was a year of social triumphs. Raymond’s championship as well as her own changed attitude paved the way for a definite popularity. The “crowd” suddenly discovered that Nancy was a gay, fun-loving girl, full of ideas, an asset to any gathering. Although living in the wrong end of town she seemed able to do her share of entertaining, doing it without apologies and so nicely that t>-c guests were able to forget chat they haa been forced to cross tie tracks. Her mother appeared At these functions at intervals. Dressed in dirk satin with a bit of lace at the throat, Amanda was sweet-looking. With tireless, unending persistence Nancy coached her in. the part she was to play. “Don’t sqy too much,” she emphasized. “Just look pretty and I’ll see that they have a good time.” Amanda, eager to help her daughter win the recognition to which she was entitled, would promise anything. Silas Gage was not so amenable. I He would neither come in briefly as a well-trained father should nor would he maintain a decent non-ap-pearance. His voice could often be heard from the living room. (It wasn’t a parlor any more.) And once he opened the door from the kitchen and called gruffly, “Mandy, where's my pipe?” Amnada, who was playing her part unusually well that evening, colored angrily. But Nacy saved the situation by crying gaily, “Behind the kitchen clock, darling. I put it there.” She laughed easily as if she were not trembling with rage and mortification. “My father is the spoiled baby of the Gage family. Hevwants what he wants when he wants it/’ . Everyone smiled, and Raymond touched her arm, possessively, and reminded her that she had promised to sing. His loyalty was very sweet and never failed. Violets for Valentine’s day; roses for commencement; and a box of expensive, monogrammed stationery at Christmas time. Looking back after graduation, Nancy was unable to find a flaw in that last year. It had been perfect. Tue old days of heartache and loneliness were as if they had never been. She had been a little worried over Sue Martin’s persistent attempts at

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friendliness. She never could seem to realize that they were noirin the same “class.” ' But—even this trial had miraculously been spared her. Sue’s mother decided she couldn’t keep the girl in school any longer, so she had gone to San Francisco to work. “Poor thing," pitied Nancy, at one of her infornial Sunday night suppers. "I’ve always been sorry for her.” . Clarice Jones, who was the other ’ fly in the ointment, seemed content with Nancy’s most casual recognition. Sfie continued to flit in and out, heavily powdered and cheaply perfumed. Often after she had gone to bed Nancy was conscious of smothered giggles and long silences from the povch next door. Sometimes she recognized one assorted masculine voices. She understood-that some of the boys she danced ana played with spent other evenings in the company of girls like Clarice. “It’s disgusting,” Nancy said, relaying information to her interested friends, “put what can you expect from a girl with a family like that?” Raymond was not one of those who fell for the wiles of Clarice. He was openly, seriously in love with Nancy. Before he left for the university in September he came to her home and told her so. The evening was cool. Nancy lighted the gas in the ugy fireplace and did her best to make things seem cozy. She realized, with a sense of approaching bereavement, that soon he would be going away. She expected to be lonely. Most of her friends were leaving for college. Nancy was staying at home, but “going on with her music.” And she was not entirely alone. Edith parcourt, whose father was president of the First National Bank, was not feeling well enough to continue her education. The two girls planned to console each other until the holidays. Raymond, arriving with a box of candy, sat dfiwn and pulled his chair close to hers. “I’m going aWay next week,” he said. “And I think we ought to have an understanding.” "Understanding about what?” smiled Nancy, but her hand was cold in his. “About you and me,” lie continued. "*‘l can’t ask you to be engaged. I’ve four years at the university and it wouldn't be fair to either of us.” Nancy nodded gravely. “But I am going to tell you how much I care,” he said. “I love you, Nancy. Have loved you ever since that night in the boat.” The reference w r as not a happy one. Nancy withdrew her hand, saying, “How can you say that, Raymond? Do you think I’ve forgotten the way you acted the next day?”

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“Do you mean by voting against you?” “Not that only. You scarcely spoke to me.” "But, Nancy,” the boy Insisted eagerly, "I was terribly embarrassed I felt so queer when I saw ypu ; again.” “Nonsense!” Nancy cried, angrily. “If you were embarrassed, it was because you were afraid I’d expect you to live up to your kiss.” “i didn’t re illy kiss you.” “Near enou/ h,” she retorted. Then seeing the pain in his face, she said, more kindly, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be cross about that now. It’s over and you have been wonderful since.” “I know,” he said suddenly, “you think I’ve been nice to you on account of your family in Virginia. Lut you’re mistaken. Those things don’t mean so much out here. I don’t care whether your uncle was Governor of Virginia or drove a truck.” She stared at him, unbelievingly. “I don’t,” he insisted. “I fell for you when I saw you standing on the dock in that pink dress.” “Then why did you vote against me?” “Because I knew if I didn't the whole crowd would kid me. It was selfish, I admit. But I wasn’t sure enough then oh, Nancy, please forget it. Surely, I've been nice enough this year," It was true. But Nancy could not believe that he would have shown her these attentions had he not seen her at the Larabee’s. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I DO like you, Raymond.” “But you don’t really care about me? Is that it?” “I think I do care,” she replied; “but I wish you hadn’t mentioned the night on the river. Let’s not talk about It.”, • Her reluctance seemed to make hiih more eager. He came to see her every night before* he went away, until finally Nancy consented to the “understanding” he had suggested. If there was ever 'anybne else” they were to tell each other. In the meantime she was to understand he loved her. and If she felt the same eventually they would be married. They were on the small front porch, concealed by climbing rose vines, when Nancy promised. “May I kiss you now?” he begged. She wished he had taken a kiss as he had tried to do before. What was the matter with her? Was she never to forget that other evening? As she lifted her frightened lips to his, she was conscious again of a tingling at the back of her neck. She was thinking, critically, “there’s something lacking.” . .. A gurgle of laughter trickled across from the Jones’ porch. “That awful girl” was out there again, spoiling the most intimate moment of Nancy’s, life with her cheap flirtations. < Unconsciously she drew away from the boy, whose arms were still around her.

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“Did you hear that?” she demanded. “What? I didn’t hear anything.” She refused to tell him, but when he would have kissed her again she said: “No, please! Wait until you come back.” Afterward she wondered if it were the laughter from next door or a premonition of the coming of Eric Nelson which had forced her away from him. Because before Raymond returned Nancy was madly in love with an r >er man. • io Be Continued) BOULEVARD IS SOUGHT E. Michigan St. Improvement Proposal Laid Before Board. A proposal to make E. Michigan St. between and Emerson Avee. a boulevard is before the board of works. A. B. Henderson of Muncie, a property owner on the street suggested the plan to the board. A petition to Improve the street between car tracks will be heard Friday. Henderson suggested elimination of the car tracks, declaring the company, would save $25,000 by eliminating service beyond Bradley Ave.” Henderson declaied the East Side would benefit from the thoroughfare. NO, OYSTER ISN’T MUM! Coast and Geodetic Survey Know About Noise He Makes. NORFOLK, Va., Sept. 13.—What kind of a noise an oyster makes has been solved by the United States coast and geodetic survey. The saying “mum as an oyster” is fiction, the survey reported, after experiments with under-water radio near here. The clashing of the shells as the oysters opened and shut interfered seriously with the delicate instruments.

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VETERAN LAWYER DIES James A. May, Alexandria, Had! Practiced Thirty-Five Years. Bu Timet Sveetal ALEXANDRIA, Ind., Sept. IS.— Funeral services were heid here today for James A. May, 59, for thir-ty-five years a practicing lawyer. He died Saturday of cancer of the throat. 4 He leaves the widow and a sort, Leslie. Another son, Russell Stephen May, died during the world war in a training camp at Greiville, S C., the first Alexandria soldier on the death list. AUTO STICKERS BARRED Windshield Must Be Kept Clean in Connecticut. By United Prett HARTFORD, Conn., Sept. 13. Stickers have been barred from automobile windshields in Connecticut. Robbins B. Stoeckel, State commissioner of motor vehicles, explained that his action was based on a belief that stickers, used indiscriminately, might interfere with drivers’ vision and lead to accidents.

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