Jasper County Democrat, Volume 19, Number 85, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 January 1917 — Dorothy's Dime [ARTICLE]

Dorothy's Dime

Grayce looked grim as he threw open the door and then stumbled over the roll of rugs that lay just within. “Another nig|it has come and that landlord still lives his evil life,” he' called, ami from the dimly lighted parlor came an answering sniff. Bert Grayce hung up, his coat on the half-shrouded hatrack and entered the room. The furniture was swathed in burlap and excelsiqr, the piano was covered with old and other soft wrappings, and trunks and boxes were-piled with some attempt at order along the bare walls aud upon the equally bare floor. On top of the upturned soap box a group of candles sputtered dismally their feeble rays serving to accentuate the absence of gas. Desolation—‘-the desolation of an exodus —brooded everywhere, even upon the face of the woman who sat in a low rocker beside the candles and vainly made pretense of reading. Her’s was a lovable face, framed in masses of silver hair, and Grayce’s smile softened and grew more lender as he bent kiss the still smooth forehead. “Cheer up, mother mine,” he said, laughingly. “All is not yet lost, though the painters remain on strike. Tomorrow the new home will be painted. By Saturday we shall be comfortably settled.” . “Are you sure?” demanded Mrs. Grayce, wistfully. , “If you are, we will not have the gas turned on again.” “There are electric lights in the new home,” he reminded. “You will forget these nights of Egyptian darkness, and the next time we move we shall not order the current turned off until we are safely out of the house.” “To think that at the last moment, with all packed and ready to move, this strike should have come uji 1” said Mrs. Grayce, with a groqn. “Are you positive, Bert, that the painter, you have engaged will not be won over by the strikers?” » ' ■ “Never more certain of anything in my life,” was the laughing response. “The painter is no less a person than your accomplished son. I stopped in and ordered the paint sent over this morning. Tomorrow I shall go up and wueld the brush, so you must wake and call me early. I must put in a full day.” Bert passed on to his own room, ligthting his way with matches, and his mother heaved a sigh of relief. For eight days they had virtually camped in J_h&-apartment they had given up, waiting for their new quarters to be finished.

-The packers had done their work, the- man had come .to cut off the gas and the moving vans were backed up to the door when a telephone message came to the effect that owing to a strike of the painters, the new rooms were not yet ready for occupancy. From day to day >the landlord had promised that something would be done at once, but now a full week had passed and hope had commenced to fail? until Bert decided to do the work himself. He made an early and eight o'clock found him in a suit of jeans applying the paint with as skillful a brush as though painting were his regular occupation. He worked rapidly and well, and the rooms had begun to assume a habitable aspect when he A heard.the hall door open and close and looked up, expecting to see the landlord. Instead, he faced about to encouQfrer the gaze of a pair of brown eyes which seemed to pierce his paint-stained jacket and give him an oddly queer sensation alMlftt the heart. The possessor of the eyes was a fragile slip of a girl whose pure oval face was oddly like a picture by some old master. The slender form was wholly concealed by a brown Holland pinafore, and this was splashed with blue. “So you have come,”, she said at length. “I was beginning to think that you would be out on strike all winter. I was promised that my floors should be shellacked first.”

“Yes, but —-’’ began Bert. “I want no answers,” said the girl* with a stalnp of ffbr tiny foot. “I am to have an exhibition day tomorrow, and the floors must be done by then, do you hear?” “Yes, ma’am,” said Bert meekly. “Then pick up your nail and brush and come along,” was* 5 the quiet command. “If I had not smelled the pains in the hall, you would have spent the day here, when I need you so much more. -Come on, please.” She turned to lead the way a* though there were no argument to be made, and Bert, grinning over the rl- [ dictilousness of the affair, followed after. He saw that the other apartment was jonly across the hall from his own. It yvas a much smaller place ,a'nd it did hot take Bert long to paint the floors. The girl stood in the Mborway superintending 4 the work, and Bert was sorryiwhen at last he rose from his knees and announced the completion of the job. “You will have to finish the other apartment,” said the girl, severely.

“Next time do as you are told, and you will have lessdrouble. You know very well that the agent told you to do this apartment first. He promised me that he would.” “He’ll promise 'anything,” began Bert, grimly, blit the'tiny foot stamped a warning. The girl did not care to argue the point with a workman, and she dismissed- him with a nod. 7 “Come in tomorrow and give It a second coat,” she commanded. “Wait a moment,” she added, as Bert turned to go. “Buy yourself. a good cigar,” sfce finished, as she handed him a coin. Bert dropped the dime in 7 his pocket with a murmured word of thanks and backed out of the door. Once on the other side his embarrassment died down, and he paused long enough to ascertain ilom the card on the door that it \vas Dorothy Remsen who occupied. the apartment. That she was a china decorator he already knew, and vaguely he remembered having heard of her skill.

He was tired when he sought his home that night, but the thought that he would see “the girl again on the morrow gave him a feeling that the day had been well spent. He carefully slipped the dime in, a locket which he wore on his watch fob and smiled as he thought of his “tip.” He painted the studio doors the first thing next morning, and then turned his attention to his own apartment It was late in the afternoon when he had finished and was cleaning up. There came a ring at the door, and he opened it to confront a young woman who radiated confusion and penitence. “I have come to apologize,” she said, blushing redly. “I stopped in to thank the agent for sending me a painter, and he did not feflow that my floors had been done. TJien he recalled that you were painting your own place, and explained my error.” “It’s a very natural one,” he said, with a laugh. “If you were half as desperate as my mother, I should not blame you for kidnaping me with a full knowledge of the facts. I am only glad that I have been of service to you.” “You don’t know how greatly you have aided me,” she said. “I can never repay your kindness. I am so sorry that I was abrupt yesterday. Will <ou pardon me?” The long, slender hand was clasped f in Bert’s own, and he smiled down into the brown eyes that dropped shyly before his gaze. Dorothy slipped back into her own apartment, and Bert, closing his door, drew the dime she had given him from his pocket. “The job’s going to cost you more - than that, little woman?* he said, as he .smiled to himself. “It’s going to cost you your heart and hand, and ihey are worth millions of dimes.” —Philadelphia Bulletin.