Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 April 1937 — Page 26

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CAST OF CHARACTERS ‘ JOAN BARRETT, heroine, secretary to John Hendry. » JOHN HENDRY, mining investment head. BOB ANDREWS, Hendry’s junior partmer and Joan’s fiance. 3 SYBIL HENDRY, socialite, John Hendry’s niece and Joan’s rival in love. PHILIP HENDRY, Sybil's brother. DOROTHY STARKE, Joan's girlhood friend. : CHARLES NORTON, California mining promoter. : Yesterday—Joan was invited to Sybil's tea—a day, she would realize later, that marked the beginning of all her unhappiness.

CHAPTER EIGHT OAN had planned to leave the office early on’ Wednesday, in order not to be late for Sybil’s tea. . But at the last minute, a sudden

change in Mr. Hendry’s plans detained her. She regretted not having time to run home and change, because she needed the composure that fresh clothes might have lent. th Sybil would be perfect and her 2, friends would be perfect, and they { would be quick to note any imperfections in her. Their attitude, she felt sure, would be patronizing. s - She remembered what Bob had o said about Sybil. “Whatever. social success I've had, I owe it to her. . . .” It had helped him in his business, too. That would be <* her job, from now on. She must be able to do as much for him as Sybil Hendry had. Because of that, so much depended upon today. i » Upon: her first meeting with these women who would be her neigh- ! bors.

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Some of them she had met at the |

Spring Frolic. Because of their friendship for Bob, they had accept- . . ed her whole-heartedly. But today Bh # she would be alone. And she was : not sure that Sybil’s friends would 4; be the same warm-hearted matrons | whom Bob had presented. Today she would meet the smart young women, the well-poised, brilliant young sophisticates. She was afraid of people like that. She lacked the self-confidence to meet them successfully. Parties still held a certain terror for her, because she was never sure when she might meet another woman from San Francisco — someone who remembered. Today she gust not be afraid. n ” 2

HE took one last personal invenS tory. The evening before she « had had a shampoo and manicure. Her shoes were new, so were her - stockings. She was glad it had continued cold; she would not need galoshes. Her dress, which she had hoped to change, would do. It was a plain black silk, ideal for the office, but glorified for the occasion by a crisp ne 7 collar and a pair of good clips. Her hat was new and smart. As far as grooming went, she felt confident. There was no carelessness to warrant criticism. Her train arrived in Green Hills at - 5:30. Sybil had suggested 5 o'clock, so she was not very late. She started to walk from the station, ¥ then suddenly catering to Sybil’s sophistication, she decided on a taxi.

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¢ ER decision proved a wise one, H because Sybil herself was welcoming guests at the door when she drew up. Lily my dear!” she greeted efe fusively. “It’s so nice to see you. Do run upstairs, will you? My maid will take your wraps. I shall be waiting here for you. . . . Jennings is mixing cocktails, and I must ! watch the door. . . . Oh, Marjorie! Gloria! I'm so glad you both could come. . . .” Joan's feet sank into the deep * pile of the carpeting as she walked up the stairs. At the landing, a pert little maid met her and ushered her into a boudoir at the left—a verita- , ble stage setting or rose and silver. "This must be Sybil's room, she thought, and she caught her breath at the sheer luxury of it. In her simple black office dress, she felt a fitting companion to the maid, and her hands trembled as she reached into her bag for a handkerchief. Two other young =. women were freshening their makeup at a vanity table, and they graciously made a place for her, and included her in their irrelevant chatter about the weather. Eventually she went downstairs with them. Sybil met them. She - took Joan’s arm and drew her forward, . 4 8 ¥ “rg \HIS is Bob's fiancee, Joan “Barrett,” she introduced. “Joan, let me present Bess Havens and Lois Stevens . . . though you've probably introduced yourselves upstairs. ... Come, Joan, my dear, the others are all so eager to know you, t00.” She speaks, Joan thought, like a . person in a play, so charmingly precise, as if she had rehearsed every word carefully . . . but her eyes remain cold and remote, as if she weren’t there at all.” Sybil led her into the blue and ivory living room, and Joan felt a dozen pairs of eyes focused upon her and 10 times a dozen pairs reflected from as many mirrors. Mechanically she acknowledged Sybil’s introductions, praying that she would not be forced to shake hands and betray, by the icy moisture of her own, the inner discomfort which she felt. These women were to be her friends and neighbors, yet of all the eyes and reflection of eyes which purned into her, there was no pair which sparkled warmth and friendX ship. They were all Sybil’s eyes, a B dozen times over, cold and remote f | and unfriendly, though the lips that ‘matched them smiled and murmured charming phrases. The friendly, fleshy matrons whom Bob had presented were not to be found in this group. Here were

the critics, Waiting to : her apart. Here were the soer dictators, soothing her with subtle smiles and velvety speeches as their eyes watched with eager jmpatience for one slight excuse to cast her from their circle. i Sybil led her to the divan, where | she might enjoy the center of the

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a, all so very, very fond of Bob,” she explained engagingly, - «that we feel we must know you hly.” new that the words Sybil was thinking were: “that we want to know if you are good enough m.” Bor i you won't find us too dull, Joan,” Sybil chatted on. “Comsared with you, we lead such empty i lives.” Then, in explanation to the others: “Joan, you know, is Uncle John’s secretary. He tells me that he couldn’t do a thing without Ber!”

3 3

F the words were intended for flattery, the intention was lost. Rather, Sybil had called attention to the difference in their positions, and beneath the sugar coating of her words there was a vague sting. The others, quick to seize an opportunity, followed up her words in the subsequent small talk. Did it not require years of training for such a position? Or had she started to work when she was very young? Not really? Seventeen? Think of it! Didn’t get to college, then? How unfortunate! A good finishing school, however . . . not even finishing school? Oh, dear! well, it was just too, too wonder= ful what a young girl could do for herself these days ... of course, if one was that type. Jennings entered quietly, carrying a tray of cocktails. He walked straight toward Joan, presenting another problem. If she refused, she would be a prude and a bore, a handicap to a man whose business success depended upon his wife’s diplomacy in social contacts. If she drank but one, and let its warm stimulation free her of the overpowering tenseness which she felt, her laugh might become one note too shrill ¢nd the critics would whisper: “Whai can you expect from a common stenographer?” She chose the middle course. taking one from the proffered tray, she sipped a few drops slowly, then quietly placed the glass on the low coffee table in front of her. Her hand, she noticed happily, no longer trembled. : ” 28 ” ONVERSATION did not lag: neither was it pursued along a common ground of understanding. Joan could not be sure whether Sybil's friends were deliberately talking over her head or whether they were just as deliberately parading before each other. They discussed the merits of the various orchestras in Manhattan's smarter night clubs; they raised astonished eyebrows at one net yet familiar with the Such-

mented each other on new gowns, ascertaining in nonchalant but determined fashion the source of each gown’s origin. They praised Sybil’s cocktails, at the same time offering suggestions from their own infallible knowledge of liqueurs. They chatted of mutual friends in Biarritz," Palm Beach and Nassau, presenting varied and elaborate excuses for their own deplorable presence in New York in January. “By the way,” someone interrupted, “has Barbara Downs left ‘for Florida yet?” “No,” Sybil replied. “I talked to her yesterday. They plan to leave the beginning of next week. Incidentally, I asked her to stop in this afternoon.” “Is she coming?” “A little later, perhaps. Her cousin is visiting her and they had tickets for a matinee this afternoon.” “It’s almost 6 now . . .

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YBIL looked at her tiny jeweled watch. “So it is . . . well, perhaps they're staying in town—” The doorbell sounded as she spoke. “. . . . unless this is she now. Yes, of course!” .

”

She rose and went toward the|.

door. As she brushed past the low coffee table, Joan picked up her glass, lest it be knocked over by the swish of Sybil's skirt. A moment later, she heard Sybil greet the late arrivals: “Hello, Barbara. And Dorothy. I'm so glad you could get here. We've just been talking about you.” A moment later, she brought them in to meet Joan. : “May I present Barbara Downs? This is Joan Barrett, Bob's fiancee. And Barbara's cousin, Dorothy Starke, from Seattle.” The cocktail glass dropped from Joan’s suddenly lifeless hand, shattered into bits on the glass-topped table.’ She raised horror-stricken eyes to meet the same Dorothy Starke, from Seattle, whom she had last seen seven years before, at a “sweet sixteen” party. . . .

and-Such Club. They compli-

(To Be Continued)

Daily Short Story

JANE MISSES THE TRAIN—By Marcella Rawe

ISS MEHITABLE STEVENS sat primly on the porch, watching her plump sister Jane coming up the. walk. Jane's hat was perched at a drunken angle on the side of her pompadour, her suitcase was in one hand, and a strong bag full of parcels was dragging from the other. “Well!” Mehitable greeted her. “When I say I'm comin’ on the noon train, I come on the noon train! I waited dinner for you till half past two. The potatoes was dried up and the eggs like fried overshoes! And here you come stragglin’ in at 5 o'clock without a word of apology!”

Jane, breathless, dropped down on the top step of the veranda, pushed her hat to a new angle on the pompadour, and gasped. “I've been almost arrested, knocked senseless in a taxicab, and —and nearly had a—oh, it was awful!” She closed her eyes, as thought t oshut out an unpleasant vision, and relaxed against a porch pillar. 2 ” 4 ER sister, startled, arose from her rocking chair. “Jane Stevens! What in the name of time have you been a-do-ing? Haven't I told you a hundred times to watch out for yourself in the city? What have you been up to?” Jane opened her eyes and glanced apprehensively toward the next-door neighbor’s open windows, where ruffled curtains swung idly in the light breeze. She knew, from experience, how much one could hear from behind a screen of ruffled curtains. She staggered to her feet, grasping the string bag of parcels. “Not here,” she whispered furtively. “I'll tell you upstairs.”

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EHITABLE grabbed the suitcase and followed her sister into the house and up the staircase to Jane’s bedroom. “Well,” she began, “I got my teeth fixed first. You was right, Metty— it didn’t hurt hardly any to have the wisdom tooth pulled—" “Looks like vou didn’t gain any, havin’ it out! Never mind your teeth—go on!” interrupted Mehitable, stirring the peppermint vindictively. i s 4

“If I got to tell you the whole story, I got to tell it my own way,” she complained. “I had to start somewhere, didn’t I? The teeth came first, didn’t they?” “Go on,” commanded Mehitable. “Well, I got my teeth fixed, and stayed all night with Cousin Gregory’s wife and, this morning, I did the shopping. I couldn't match that piece of print you wanted for the apron. They didn’t have no more of that pattern, but'I found another piece you'll like. If you’ll hand me the bag T'll—" Mehitable set down the glass, grasped her sister by the shoulders and shook her until the pompadour gave up entirely and cascaded over her face in a brown waterfall. “I don’t want to know about your teeth, nor the print, nor nothing except what you've been .a-doing!” she commanded. “Don’t evade the issue, Jane Stevens! I want to know the worst!” ” ”n »

“YF WAS comin’ to it,” whispered Jane. “It comes right after I got my shopping done and went to the railroad station. I had most an hour before the train, and I got to thinking about Sarah. Shipman in the hospital with a new baby and how nice it would be if I ran up to see her for a minute. I knew I'd have time if I hurried, so I picked up my bags and went out in front of the depot. “There was a taxi driver with a nice honest face, and said to him, ‘Take me to the Mercy Hospital, the Maternity Ward entrance, as fast as you can!’ “He helped me in real careful and said, ‘Yes'm—I’ll get you there if anybody can. You done right to pick me out. “Then, he slammed the door, climbed in, and started tearing up the street, a-dodging other automecbiles so close, I was dizzy. “Then I heard a sireen behind us

T= culprit wriggled rebelliously. |

and the taxi’s brakes as it stopped | Goff

and, when I uncovered my eyes, there stood a policeman with a terrible look on his face and a pad of paper in his hand.” “Jane!” gasped Mehitable. “And you the treasurer of the Missionary Society!” “I know,” groaned Jane. “But that isn't a starter! I couldn’t hear what they was saying but, pretty soon, the taxi man gestured toward me, and the policeman looked at me, and then jumped on his motorcycle and started ahead of us, blowing that sireen of his while everybody got out of our way as if we was royalty. Land! I've seen pictures in the papers of where policemen go along ahead that way, but I thought it was just for mayors and movie stars. I never expected—” “Get along,” commanded Mehitable, ruthlessly. ” n ELL, we was going awful fast when the taxi man tried to take a short cut through a side street that was terrible rough. The first bump threw me- against the top of the car, and I was knocked plumb silly.” “Wouldn't be hard to do!” came the acid comment from the bedside. “Everything went black and, when I came to, I was in a white room and several people with white gowns was standin’ around me. “I. couldn't figure what in the world had happened, unless it was that wisdom tooth, so I kind of raised my head and said, ‘Doctor, will you please take that thing away and tell me what I'm here for?’ “Then, a nurse put her hand on my forehead and sort of stroked it, and murmured {envi into my

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“ Y! Did I make a ruction! I hopped off that bed and told them 1 was a respectable woman and a member of Grace Church,

and nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Things were pretty mixed up for a while, what with the doctor shouting and waving his stethoscope, and the nurses trying to make me drink something out of a glass, but I yelled for them to let me out of there right away! “They finally done it, and I left without even seeing Sarah Shipman, I was so ashamed, and I didn’t take any taxi back, either, I can tell you! It was a long walk back to the depot, and the train was gone when I got there, so there was nothing to do but sit and wait for another one, and so—here I am. ...” Jane’s voice trailed off. “But what—what—" said Mehitable, weakly. Jane blushed a fiery red, and sat bolt upright. “Don’t stand there like a ninny saying ‘what, what!” she snapped. “Do I have to come right out and say it! That simpleton taxi driver thought I meant I was going,to have a baby—that’s what!” :

THE END

1937. United

(Copyright. : Syndicate, Inc.)

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(The characters in this story are fictitious)

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