MAGAZINE
SECTION
The Sunday Bee
6
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"A,,! A*—NO. 25 OMAIIA, SINDAY .MORNING, DECEMBER 2. 1923._FIVE CENTS.
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I features!
1 FICTION i
phdv Rnnif ^'TiTFF Bys°phieKerr
X J' 1*"^ 1 X 3 X 3 X V/ X X Illustrated by Arthur William Hrma
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Maiie imsh.il through (he crowd. “Hum did you get here?" she demanded.
I ERE was electricity in the air,
keen troubling. Mrs. Cleburne's
paying guests, assembled at
dinner, were aware of It. and nta
their delicious orange custard In
silence. They had heard the custard
cups being thumped down on'the
serving tray out in the pantry.
They had seen the scared eyes of
Regina, the colored waitress, as she
came in. Even the lovely quiet
of tlie June evening, and the maj
esty of Mrs. Cleburne herself, did
not reassure the guests.
The custard being finished, Miss
Edwards and her married sister,
Mrs. Word!, hurried away to the
movies. Mr. Hentz thought he’d
just step down to the store and look
UP one or two bad accounts.
Mr. Bert Green stmply disappear
ed. Mrs. Ogleby, the high school
teacher, also vanished. “I have
some themes to correct," she said.
Remaining at the table, therefore,
were only Mrs. Cleburne, her daugh
ter Marie and Alec la-wden, who
had eaten Ids custard and stayed
for coffee, with no apparent cog
nizance of the human storm raging
S.> tie
Ait 20 Aloe IpiWden bud set out
Hi tieiome ttte great Amerlcun
painter. Now. at 32, fie was com
mercial nrtist on the staff of the
War Advertising agency. For three
summers he had come out anil spent
five months at Mrs. Cleburne's,
commuting to the city, nnil was,
therefore, almost like one of the
family.
Marie Cleburne rolled her eyes
significantly toward the pantry and
said: “How did she find out?"
“Why—you see—” hesitated Mrs.
Cleburne, “I had the dress sent
out C. O. D. I hadn't quite enough
money with me, and when It came
I simply said to Martha, ‘Let me
have $10. dear, will you?’ And at
once she began to be disagreeable.-'
“But she gave It to you?”
“Well—I’ve got the dress on.”
Mrs. Cleburne glaced down compla
cently at herself “My dear, I had
to hove something. I wns In rags,
literally In rags. This Is only a
cheap little thing, but after your
peach-bloom taffeta I felt thut I
couldn't afford anything belter. We
mothers must be unselfish, Mr. Low
den." Wie gave Alec Bowden a
stalling, sweet glance.
"J don't know why she's so set on
going to lids donee, anyway," pur
sued Millie
"M .i t; i lakes fancies like that
sometimes. And it worries me to
deii-li iii persuade her out of them.”
Rut Mrs. Cleburne's pint id face
didn't show h line
“I d Is glad enough to have her
go,” conceded Marie. "But she's got
no dress, and nobody to take her,
and I simply can’t have her hang
ing along with nte now that Ous
Kramer—you know what I mean,
mother."
Marie got up slowly. If she had
ever applied to any theatrical man
ager for a Job, she would have
been descrilted technically as “Big
Blonde, Good Show-Girl Type."
Her mother's gaze dwelt on her
fondly as she disappeared.
“It’s my greatest delight Just to
look at Marie,” she explained to
Alec. “She's exactly what I was
at her age, exactly. With her face
—and her figure-she could marry
any one—anyone! If we could only
afford to go to some really fashion
able summer resort for Just one
season—" She rose, with Just a
hint of haste. “You don't mind If
I leave you? I want to speak to
Marie."
“What she really wants Is to get
from under before Martha steps
ln, " thought Aloe. Aloud he said,
"Oh. I mind, of course, Mrs. Cle
burne. who wouldn’t? But under
the circumstances—" He rose and
bowed,
He did not sit down again, but
walked over and flung open the
pantry door. "Come on in and get
your dinner, Murtha,” he said.
"You’ve scared ’em all away but
me. Come In and tell me all about
the row."
The girl who entered and dropped
down wearily at the tablo was
neither big nor blond, nor near to
beauty. She was of no type, non
descript, medium height, with dark,
untidy hair, a determined little
chin, and lips drawn tight. Her
pink calico dress was failed Her
sleeves were rolled up, her collar
often. Only her eyes, almond
shaped, with flecks of green ntid
brown In their- shadowy depths,
fringed with heavy lashes, Intensely
nlive, intensely unhappy, redeemed
her from Insignificance.
"I don’t wnitt anything but a
cup of coffee, Iteglna,” she said to
the waitress.
“Oh, eat some soup.'" urged Imw
den. “That was wonderful soup to
night. You made It. didn't you?”
“I got the whole dinner. Amelia
Ann has gone on strike."
“How cortie?"
"Ah, there you have It," said
Martha. “My, llmt soup Is good!’’
“Bring some chicken and some
rice and the fruit salmi and hot
roils for Miss Maltha. Iteglna,'* or
dered Bowden.
“What wns all the row about?’’
asked l.owdcii presently “Why nre
you on the warpath? Kverybody
sat here trembling, expo ting to see
you enter with war cries and toma
hawks."
“I’d'va liked to. I have got Vm
terrorized, haven't 1? But they
stay. That’s my cooking—mjne and
Amelia Ann's."
"You may as well tell me. It's
gfanethlng alK>ut your mother's new
dress—and that club dance Marie's
going to tomorrow night."
"So they've been talking. Then
I suppose I may, too. It's a sim
ple story. I paid the town tax yes
terday and the Insurance, and I
hadn't a red left. And I'd prom
ised Amelia Ann >10 advance for
an installment on her furniture
set. By digging and scraping and
stalling off the butcher I got the
>10, and then mother went into
Baltimore, bought that new dress,
and had It sent out C. O. P. 1
ought to 've made hor send It
back."
"Why didn t you .’
"I hardly know. 1 was so tired
and there was so much to do, and
she cried anil carried on so. So 1
gave her the $10. Amelia Ann went
qn strike, ami I had to get dinner.
She'll be back tomorrow, though."
‘‘Hut what has all this to do with
the dance tomorrow night?"
Something pitiful and young
flashed across Martha's face, and
was gone.
"Oh, 1 got a silly streak. I got
It into my head, somehow, that I’d
like to go to that dance. So 1 told
mother to took around when she
was In town and see If she could
find a little dress for me at the
sales. And—and when the box
came this afternoon—at first—I
thought—that was what It was."
She stopped abruptly.
"Oh, well. It really doesn't mat
ter," sho went on, presently. "I'd
have had a dull time, 1 suppose.
Hut f"d Just have liked to sit and
look—lights and music and young
people, and no clean towels to think
about, nor gi Oder's orders, nor
Amelia Ann. Oh, darn everything!"
She laughed. "I had a brain
storm, I can tell you. Mother and
Marie cringed, and as for poor Re
gina— she cowered every time 1
touched a butcher knife. Anyway
we’ve blown ourselves for a mag
nincciil costume for Marie, and she
certainly ought to bo able to make
Oils Kramer fall when he sees her
In It. Oops, my dear! She sure <to
look malicious, as Regina says.
And If she only can get Ous—that'll
lie one liability written off this es
tablishment. llul fins Is spoiled and
Marie Is a poison mushroom to
talk $o one of the deadliest aiiianl
tas who ever killed a conversation.
Give me a eigaret. will you?”
“Come outside and smoke it. Tou
have to wash the dishes?”
"No. Regina will. Golly, it's fine
to sit down and loaf with a sympa
thetic soul.”
"There goes your mother down
the street." said Taiwden. as they
sat on the side porch "Where's
she off to—the movies?"
"No: coiner down to play hridee
with old Mrs. Granger and the
Millses. She'll come home with
thirty cents' winnings. and as
pleased ns Punch. Funny abont
Mother—she's one of those women
who never look at the truth, never
see If When she was a girl ehe
thought she'd marry money and
live In a big house, and have lots
of servants and entertain a lot. She
married Father, who was as poor
as poverty. S..d hounded him into
buying this place and let him work
himself to death trying to pay for
if. Then we had to take boarders.
Hut It’s all the same to Mother.
She’s living In a lug bouse, even
If It Is nearly tumbling down: sites'
got servants—me and Itegina and
Amelia Ann' she his guests—w-ho
pay their way. to be sure, hut what
difference does that make?
“Are you sure," asked Bowden,
"that you look at the truth? This
dance, for instance. Can't you real
ly go’"
"Without a man, and without a
dress? Aiw, wake up."
"So far as the man's concerned.
I'll take you. If it will give you a
moment's pleasure. I’ll only be b>o
glad to martyr myself."
• I don't mind In the least mar
trying you," said Martha, but even
so, I can't go. I’ve only got that old
white organdie I made myself."
"It won't do. You ought never to
wear white, Martha. It's hideously
unl>ecoming to you. Hasn't Marie
got a dr ss you could snitch. In
an emergency like lids?"
"Marie would scream till you
could hear her In Baltimore before
she'd let me take a rag of hers."
"Need she know It—until after
ward? She can hardly scream at
the dance, before the captious
Gua."
Martha began to laugh. "Marie's
got a white crepe de chine that
will be perfectly all right for me.
I'll have to hem It up."
"But it's white. Hasn't she got
something In a brilliant color—
flame, or Indian red. or orange, or
henna?"
"They don't still our dear Ma
rie's simple girlish style."
lJrlng Down me .ir- -w -mywiy,
and let na look at It "
"I can’t get It y ' She's s.tting
upstairs at the front window w a:t
inf for Gus Kramer to come in his
car and toot the horn for her lie
lieve me, Alex, if any man • mie
for me in hls car and sat ml
tooted the horn. I'd never run t
to him. unless maybe I bad a f ill
size hard hitting hr!--'- in either
hand."
"What a little t• • -.- i 1 > * - "
“Yes, 1 am. I'm fed up *;th t> -
Ing to run this place on a slow
string, and Mother and Mari' noth
ing but a pair of parasites. Jud
when I get something laid aside r
the plumber, dear Marie has to
have new pumps—fourteen dollu .
bing; or Mother blows herself >
k frock, ns per today. And wli.t
4o I get? Seven days a week f
heavy toil. Well, pardon my tar
ings. . . , Usten—there's :l N >
ble Gust us—"
A low. sporty i.ir stopped w- 1
out in the street and the song -f
the hooter was heard in the It- i.
They could hear Marie's rush dot* tt
stairs, the flattening joy of her
greeting. Inarticulate gutturals re
plied. The car ‘chuffed." slid away.
"May she be Inspired to brillian
cy-—until she's got him," said M ir
tha fervently. "Send her a thought
wave, Alec, maybe it'll help the
poor old bean to spark."
“You skip up and gel that
dress," commanded I-owden
Martha appeared with a limp
whiteness spread on her arm Hera
it is," she said. "Come inside
where we can see It.”
It was a simple enough frock,
milk white, the color turning Mar
tha's dark skin to an ugly sallow
ness ns she held it before her.
"Nothing but a slip and a sash "
she said. "But not bad when it s
on, really."
Iaowden fingered the soft stuff
"It ought to be flame color The
••nly thing to do Is to dye it. Hot
any gasolene?"
"Now, what Is all this'.' snl
Martha. "You can t dye this dn -
Marie would have a fit "
"'What does It f •*--* ’ •’
In for crime, Marti
dye this dress a ce
ply put the eye o
at that dance. A
wliat can she do? t
got a red nose If si
noses are so unbecoll g -'l n . s.
Come on. bring out
quick."
Aloe ran upstaii
pulled out his trunk »n l begun »
lurrtrto rummaging thru in Ait -
