The Omaha Sunday Bee
AMUSEMENTS
EDITORIAL
TEN CENTS
OMAHA, SUNDAY MORNING, JULY 10, 1921.
1 D
VOL. 51 NO. 4.
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V. Y
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to
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MISS'; MARY
JOHN SMITH laid down his sister's letter and
uttered a rude word. He was devoted to
Kittle, but in that moment ho would have
enjoyed taking her by her pretty shoulders and
Riving her a good shaking. Why was it that
Iris of Kittle's sort never realized the value of
i fellow's time?
Kittle appeared to Ihlnlt that he. John, was
in New York for the sole purpose of entertain
ing any friend of hers who suddenly decided to
spend a few days in the metropolis. Whereas,
what he was really here for was to wrest from
the reluctant city an annual Income which would
send his sister comfortably through college,
provide her with pretty gowns and silk stock
ings and matinee tickets, and leave enough to
support his brave front as a young and success
ful captain of industry.
To meet their combined expenses and to bo
a little ahead of the game kept John hustling.
Both he and Klttia were natural spenders, and
their easeful life before their father died a bank
rupt had not given them a training which helped
them now. Their strongest emotion next to
their grief over , his death was an immense, and' '
horrified surprise at the situation of penury in '
which they found themselves a surprise their
mother shared to cueh an extent that the shock
of'it killed her. She died, indeed, with some- .
thing of . the effect of hastening into the next
world to ask her husband how it had happened.
The five, years following these calamities had
been hardyears for John, but he had made them
as easy as he could for Kittle. Then he had got
his real start and had dug into his work and had
begun to make money, v which Kittle spent as
joyously and as irresponsibly as she had spent
her father's money. 'John didn't mind that. Kit
tie was all ho had, and she was having. a won-
I derful time. Even now, recalling this, his brow
cleared and he picked up Kittle's letter and rc
read its last' paragraph with a forgiving grin.
"' Kittle could not realise how busy he was. That
was KJtue a oniy lauii.
"You will like Mary Immensely," Kittle had
written. "She's the dearest thing in the world
and so pretty, and her name Is Smith, you -know,
so perhaps she's our cousin or something.
I won't ask you to meet her at the train, for that ,
might not be convenient." (O, thoughtful little
Kittle!) "But she'll go right to the Beresford
when she arrives at 4 Thursday, and I want you.
to be at the hotel at 5 and take her somewhere
for tea. Then you can make some more plans,
for she'll bo in town three days. She's going to
bo bridesmaid next -month at the Knapp-Dar-roy
wedding. Do be good to her, Jackie, darling.
She's one of my dearest friends, and I want you
to live up to ail I've told; her about you."
John's handsome young face wore a recon
ciled but thoughtful expression as he folded the
letter and put it in his pocket. His mind worked
briskly on Its little problem. Thursday!' That
was today.'. At 6! It was now 4:30, and. he was
in his downtown office, at least a good half hour
from the Beresford. Kittle's letter had just
come to hint In the last afternoon mall. She
hadn't allowed him much time to turn around;
but that was Kittie's way. She was like a happy
child in her gay assumption that everything and
everybody could he shaped to her wishes. John
grinned again. He had a business appointment
at a quarter to Ave, and it was too late to warn
tha; party of the second part, who was doubt
less at that moment in the subway on his way
to John's office. . .
John closed the drawer of his desk with an
emphasis that worked off the last trace of his
irritation, left with his stenographer a message
v Intended to calm the irate caller, and hurried to .
r i hn maareat mhvnv station. Ha would take the '
girl: at the Beresford to tea at some good place
where good food and good muBlc were provided,
he resolved, and before she left town he would
take her to dinner and the theater. That would
represent all the time and money he could spend
on her, and he would have to give Kittle a gentle-
hint about sending, him .anyone else for a
while.. ,
He entered the lobby of the. Beresford at
exactly 8 o'clock, and approaching an aloof
youth at sjhe hotel desk, asked that his name be
telephoned up to Miss Mary Smith. The rather
wooden countenance of the youth suddenly took
on an expression that made it almost human.
He turned upon young Smith a quick glance that
held Interest, appraisal, and envy.. Then, as a
light in the window vanishes when the shade is
drawn, his countenance resumed its professional
mask. But he answered Smith more fully than
ha had answered anyone else that day.
"Miss Smith was Just here at the desk," he
said. "Her train got in an hour late. She can't
hara gone up in the elevator yet. No there she
is near the second car, with two pages carrying
har hags."
John Smith did not catch the last words. He
was an hia way to the elevator, and as he flew
ha , understoood the clerk's expression and the
prwencs of the two pages. He had pictured
Hary Smith as a pretty college girl, young, slen
dar. fluffy, rather giggly the type, in short, of
Kittle and most of Kittie's friends. What he saw
was a rlrl so arrestingly. lovely that- he actually
V caught his hreath at the first glimpse of her.
j she was young and slender, as he had ex-
f acted, but here all resemblance to his mental
, ' vision ended. Her youth and slenderness were
Ith youth and slenderness of a Diana. Her hair
and wonderful yes: were so dark as to be almost
. - CV,a narrlait ViornP-lf with n. nroud. sweet
dignity, and with the poise of a woman of the
world. Sha was quietly but exquisitely dressed,
very article she wore being designed to set oft
her amazing beauty and succeeding admirably in
its mission. Hat in hand and still a little breath
less, John faced her.
yjiss Smith?" he asked. "
She turned, looked at him gravely, and then
quite suddenly smiled. The smile made John
a trifle dizzy. And this was the girl Kittle had
called "so pretty!" Women were like that. They
simply could not appreciate one another's beau
ty, but they would rave over some bartered
Adonis. His reflection was checked by the dis
covery that Miss Mary Smith was holding out
her hand. - He took it with a daze with a tremor
running through it. Talk of Helen of Troy
And now she was speaking, in a voice that per
fectly expressed her personality a voice softly
contralto and musical
"My train was late. I hope I haven;t kept
you waiting." " .
"No I Just got here."
He was still holding her" hand. She with
drew it gently. It was clear that she was ac
customed to putting dazed young men at their
ease. She went on with the graciousness so
.1 , K 1UUUU ...... ...
I" - V " bonier if you would mind waiting for me
" ' for a few moments not more than 15. I'd like
to look at my rooms ana Drusn ore some uusi.
But I won't stop to change my gown."
He backed away as she spoke, his eyes on
her face.
"You'll find me waiting here in the lobby,
ha was able to bring out. "Please don't hurry.
All my time Is yours."
Sha smiled again, and with a friendly little
nod entered the open door of the now waiting
elevator.
"Fifteen minutes," she repeated.
Left alone, John stood still for a moment,
staring at the ascending car that bore her out
of his sight. Then, still with that odd, new sense
', of being temporarily dazed, he went back to
the hotel lounge, chose a seat in a remote cor
ner, where he could watch the elevator doors,
and let himself simmer, as it were. In a sense of
V. incredible well being.
' Perfect though this was, at first it was also
vague. The only fact in it was the wonderful
' and satisfying thought that he was waiting for
her. Thc knowlo-Jsre was enough. He did not
uy to analyze it. He merely sat still, smiling
rather fatuously. Then, as the moments passed,
he realize)! that his stunned brain had resumed
its functions. It was planning, planning fever
ishly, making a schedule of engagements that, if
possible, would cover every working hour of Miss
Mary Smith's visit to New York. She was to be
here three days three entire, glorious days.
Of course he would take her to dinner and
the play tonight. Could he call in the morning
and take her to breakfast on the pretext of
showing her the flower market and some un
usually , Interesting restaurant? Probably not,
but he'd try it. They would have luncheon to
gether, of course, and in the afternoon he would
hire an automobile and take her for a long
drive. They would dine together somewhere up
the river and get back late very late. The fol
lowing day Hm-m-m, for the following day he
had half a dozen important business confer
ences, which arranged themselves in an impres
sive row before him; but he would get out of
them all, of course. Time enough for that sort
of thing when she had left town.
Fully 10 minutes passed before he took in
what really had happened to him, and he dis
covered it now because he suddenly realized that
he could not take hiseyes off that elevator door.
She might be back at any minute, but the min
utes were dragging intolerably. He had never
felt that way about a girl before. He had heard of
fellows being bowled over after one glance. He
had read about it. too. He had fallen in love,
at last, and he had done it with a suddenness
and thoroughness which he would not have be
lieved possible.
. Ho had never believed ,in love at first sight.
He had thought that love, . if it ever came at
all, would be a thing of slow growth, based on
knowledge and mental kinship and understand
ing. Yet, here he was. At 5 o'clock a tired
young business man, slightly Irritable because
somewhat bored, and' only half alive. Now,' at
10 minutes past 5, a lover, shaken by his first
passion, dazed yet thrilled, humble yet trium
phant, wretched because she was not here, ec
static because she was coming, and more in
tensely alive than he had ever been or dreamed
of being. .
The wonder and splendor or the experience
overwhelmed him. He was almost 30, and. he
had never been in love before.' He had about
given up hope of ever loving or being loved. Ho .
had begun to cherish a wish that Kittle might ;
not marry either, and that they two might make
a home for each other. .That aspiration now
seemed a thousand years behind him. The life'
he had lived seemed to have been passed on an
other planet. He had come ino his heritage as
a man. ' . -r .
The elevator door on which his straining
eyes were fastened swung back and the girl
came forth. There seemed to be others in the
car at least there- were vague shadows that
probably fancied themselves men ahd women.
As he rose and went to meet her John set his
young Jaws and resolutely steadied his nerves.
What had happened to him was a miracle, but
the girl knew nothing about it. To her he was
a stranger whose sole claim to consideration
was that he was the brother of her friend. He
was her host in a strange city and she was for
the time dependent upon his courtesy and com
mon sense. , .
No suspicion of what he felt must reach her.
His role was that of Kittie's brother, an agree
able young man pleasantly interested in his sis
ter's friend and normally anxious to make her
visit pleasant. To carry out that role would be
difficult, but he knew to carry it out was his
only chance of winning the girl. One false move
or act, a too-Impulsive word, and he would lose
her forever. The knowledge restored his poise.
"This is wonderful," he Jested as they met.
"It's exactly 15 minutes."
"And you expected to wait at least half an
hour?" . . ' . .
"I have "a sister, you know. At. a guess, I
should say that I've spent about eight years of
my life waiting around for Kittic. Where shall
we go?" he asked, as he helped her into a taxi
cab. "Have you any choice?" ' (
She shook her head. . '
' "No. I didn't even know we were going out.
But it's very nice," she added with her young
graciousness.
"The Plaza," he told the driver, and then, as
he sat down, turned to stare at her.
"You didn't know?"
"No, 1 thought you were merely to call. It's
very nice of you to take me out, after that dusty
journey."
The taxicab had turned Into the park, the
driver evidently preferring its quiet roads to
the traffic congestion of upper Fifth avenue.
Mary Smith looked out of the window and drew
a deep breath.
"Hw heavenly the park is," she sighed.
"And how I love New York in the spring!"
"I love it the year 'round."
John gazed out at the park with a proudly
proprietary air. He felt as if New York were
his and he were giving it to her. Certainly
he would give her as much of It as three days
permitted. "I'm sorry the Journey was bad,"
he added, sympathetically. '
He longed to be saying all sorts of things
brilliant things, personal things. But the safe
course "was to be strictly bromidic until she
knew him better. They talked of trains, then
of travel. Insensibly the talk became more per
sonal.. When the taxicab stopped at the en
trance of the Plaza he had learned that she had
been in Paris throughout the previous summer
and she knew that he had served his country in
the aviation corps. i
These experiences engrossed them through
out the tea hour. To an accompaniment of soft
music, cheerful voices, toasted muffins and Jam
they exchanged experiences and sage viewpoints.
For this hour they were citizens of the allied
lands rather than of one. He took her with him
into the deep blue of French and German skies;
and it was while he felt higher among the
clouds than he had ever been in reality that
John Smith received the shot which brought
him down to earth.
"I wish I could stay in New York longer,"
the girl said, wistfully. "There's so much to
, talk about and to see," she. added.
The words went to her companion's head,
but he held himself steady.
"I wish you could, too," he said with an
emphasis that made her glance at him in sur
prise. "But we'll make the most of your three
days." , . ' '-
"Three days?" It wasf her turn to look at
him in amazement. "Why, I'm .sailing for Cuba
tomorrow afternoon Didn't ' Uncle James tell
you that when he wrote?" .. '..
John shook his head. The Jolt was so stag
gering that he could not utter a word, but it
left his mental processes unimpaired, Even be
fore she had ceased speaking the whole situa
tion was clear in his mind clear with an ab
horrent clearness. This Mary Smith was hot'
Kittie's Mary Smith therefore, oh, black re
flection, she was not his Mary Smith. In a big
hotel like the Beresford there might be half a
dozen Mary Smiths and he had drawn the wrong
one, though to him she was absolutely the right
one.
A "flash in" of Kittie's little college chum
sitting in h?r lonely hotel room waiting for him
to' "appear was regarded with callous Indiffer
ence and immediately dismissed. A companion
flash of some unknown young man,, waiting In
the lobby for the Mary Smith whose dark eyes
were this instant regarding him over the tea
cup, was surveyed with more leisure and pleas
ure. But all the time John Smith was think
ing faster than he had ever thought before.
His proper course was clear and he knew it.
lie should explain the situation to his com
panion at once, apologias lur his unconscious
SMITH
tat in hand and ttitt a UttU bruathlt, John
part in the mixup, and, now that the tea hour
was' ovfer, escort her back to her hotel and, if
she-so" elected, bow himself out of her life.' It
, would be for her to decide -whether she would.
; or would not continue their acquaintance.'- He
was not sure what that decision would be, but
he feared it. .' '
This Mary Smith was not an unconventional
person. On the contrary, she was a thoroughly
sophisticated and well bred one with an obvious
social background and traditions. Whatever
she might decide as to the future, one thing at'
least was clear. She would not dine with him
tonight and go to the theater if she discovered
that he was a stranger. Yet it was absolutely
necessary to his life's happiness that she should
do both that, since she was to leave New York
so soon, he must make use of every moment she
was here to impress Himself upon her.
All's fair in love and war! The old motto,
swept comfortably into the foreground of his
mind. She should not be allowed to discover
the mistake that had been made. He made this
decision suddenly and irrevocably. Therefore,
she must not even be allowed to return to the
Beresford. The chump who was to have met
her might be waiting in the lobby. Also, he,
. John, might run across his own little Mary
Smith. He must not risk any such contretemps.
He leaned forward toward his companion and
addressed her with entire assurance.
"I hope you will like the program I have ar
ranged for this evening," he said, casually.
"We're going to have a spin out into the coun-
try for an hour or two. The apple blossoms in
Westchester are gorgeous and I want you to see
them before it gets dark. Then we'll dine on
the terrace of Briarcliff Inn, to show you the
wonderful view, and we'll get back in time to
see Ethel Barrymore in her new play."
The Married
A Comic Calamity Attends the Over
night Visit of Helen's Sister-in-Law,
A vague depression clouded
Helen's awakening. Shrinking from
the sunlight that streamed across the
pillow, her mind groped dazedly lor
the cause.
Then in' a flash she knew. Carrie!
Carrie had stayed all night!
Longing to settle back for another
doze, Helen forced herself out ot
bed. She must see about break
fast for her meticulous sister-in-law.
Aroused by the click of the shade
as she shut out the glaring light,
Warren yawned and grunted.
"Dear, you needn't get up just yet.
I have to see about breakfast. She
doesn't know Carrie's here."
Slipping out to the kitchen, Helen
found only Pussy Purr-Mew rub
bing expectantly against the leg of
the table. ' ,
"Cora! Cora!" Helen knocked at
the maid's room. "Aren't you up
yet?"
The door opened a few inches, ex
posing the girl's sleep-swollen face.
"You'll have to hurry, Cora. Mrs.
Edwards stayed all night. Make some
muffins just as you do Sundays.
We'll want eggs and bacon have
the bacon nice and crisp. Put on
one of the best tablecloths and the
good napkins."
Cora, never gracious about un
expected guests, muttered a surly
"Ycs'm" as she slammed the door to
finish a hasty toilet.
Hurrying to the bathroom Helen
laid out two njonogramcd .guest
The beautiful Miss Smith looked slightly
overwhelmed but also, he exultantly realized,
greatly tempted.
"It's a wonderful program," she said, hesi
tatingly, "and of course I should love it, but "
"If you were to stay longer," he explained,
"we wouldn't need to rush matters. But you're
leaving tomorrow, don't you see? I want you
to have all the pleasant experiences we can
crowd, into these few hours. You can rest on
the ship, you know."
"Y-ee." She was plainly wavering.
' "It's extremely kind of you. But surely I
ought to go back to the hotel and dress."
. "Not for automobiling and a dinner at a
country inn," he pointed out. "And as to the
theater, half the audience won't be in evening
dress at this season."
facad nr. "Mitt Smith?" hm mM.
She met his eager eyes with tho beautiful
smile that made his heart beats quicken. Then,
as if irrepressibly, she laughed out in sudden
surrender and to John the soft laughter was the
most beautiful music he had ever heard.
"It will be glorious," she said.
; From this moment John realized that his
position was. that of a skater on exceedingly
thin iee. At any instant, he might break
through, or. skate into any one of the numer
ous airholes in this little social pond. The most
serious of his dangers was the mysterious "Uncle
James," a gentleman on whom his companion
showed a recurrent desire to converse. It be
came clear that she was an orphan, and that
"Uncle James" was not only her uncle but her
guardian. .
Spinning along the banks of the Hudson in
the soft spring twilight and in the after glow
.of a perfect sunset, Mary Smith talked in her
. cool, calm way and John listened with rapture,
i content with anything she said but wisely con
' fining his . responses, almost to ' monosyllables.
' Detached as her mariner was, the girl yet con
: . veyed the impression that she was talking with
unusual intimacy that, indeed, she was talking
' to an old friend. The subtlety of the compli
ment, the vital importance of what it conveyed,
would .have mounted to her companion's brain
if he had not been so increasingly conscious of
a need of caution.
He tried to keep the conversation general.
At the little table on the hotel veranda with the
shadowy, undulating landscape of Westchester
stretching below them and with lanterns shin
ing like glowworms in the distant shrubbery,
he succeeded in doing this, but with increasing
difficulty. There were so many things he want
ed to know about her! Also, there were so many
things he wanted to tell her about himself.
Life of Helen
towels and a cake of scented soap.
The gleaming faucets she viewed
with satisfaction, glad that yester
day had been the day for cleaning
the nickel and silyer.
"Now, dear, you'd better get up,"
shaking Warren, who had gone back
to sleep. I want you to be out of
the bathroom so Carrie won't have
to wait." .
"Won't hurt her to wait," yawned
Warren, scratching his towsled head.
"Get out that light gray suit, will
you?"
"Oh, I've so much to do. Can t you
wait on yourself this morning?"
"What in blazes you got to do?
Cora's here to get breakfast, isn't
she?"
Diving into his closet, Helen laid
out the light gray suit, put his cuff
buttons into a fresh shirt, then
rushed ou,to the dining-room to
lower the awnings so it would be
restfully dim and cool for breakfast.
Who could be calling so early?
Wonderingly she answered the tele
phone. "Oh, hello, Lawrence I . . . No,
she's not up yet. Do you want to
speak to her? . . . Yes, she's go
ing to the dentist right after break
fast. I think her appointment's for
9:30 . . . Yes, I'll tell her."
"Was that Lawrence?" called
Carrie querulously as Helen came
from the phone. "Why didn't you
tell me? I wanted to speak to him."
"I thought you were asleep. He's
going to meet you at the dentist. If
you feel badly he'll go out home
witfi you pu the twclvc-tcn."
"Well, I don't feel much like going
to a dentist this morning. I had a
wretched night. How can you stand
it here? Those trucks and milk
wagons ke"pt going all night. I wish
now I'd gone out home."
Helen wished it too, but refrained
from saying so.
"Get me some kind of a kimona,
Helen. I've got to give Bobbie his
bath."
"Here's my robe and slippers.
Warren'll be out in a minute."
Bobbie's ablutions were accom
panied by howls and shrieks, above
which rose Carrie's shrill reprimands.
"Great guns, Carrie, do you have
that circus every morning?" scowled
Warren, when his sister finally reap
peared with Bobbie, clean but mu
tinous. . ,
"He's cross because he didn t
sleep. I don't see how any one can
in the city. Don't precious, let that
cat alone 1 She scratched you last
time."
It was another 20 minutes of
querulous complaints from Carrie be
fore they were finally seated around
the breakfast table.
"Yes, precious, that chair's too low.
Where's that big dictionary?"
"Just a minute I forgot it." Helen
flew into the library.
Bobbie, elevated by the unabridged
Webster, dived into the powdered
sugar.
"Oh, I wouldn't do that!" Helen
rescued the bowl under Carrie's hos
tile stare. "Eat your nice cantaloupe.
You don't want any more suear on
that,", -
By ELIZABETH JORDAN .
In this respect he let himself go a little. He
dared not again mention Kittle, of course, nor
his past, which might conflict with what she had
been told of him by "Uncle James." He realized
that she did not even know his name. He had
hurried to her side straight from the hotel desk,
and she had accepted him without question as
the inai she had expected to meet her. The
reflection reminded him of a new danger. Ho
often dined at the Briarcliff Inn. It was a
favorite spot of his, and tha waiters knew him.
If one of them addressed him by name
It was at this precise moment in his medi
tations and as if evoked by them that the head
waiter approached the table, bearing down upon
the couple with the affability of his typo. He
had been out of the room when they arrived,
but he made up for this flaw in the service by
putting into his greeting something more than
mere cordiality. There was a hint of the hos
pitality of "old home week" in his welcome to
the reluctant diner he now addressed.
"Oh, good evening, Mr. Smith. We haven't
had you with us for several weeks." he added,
expansively. "Is everything all right?"
John looked up at him and allowed a rapid
succession of changes to sweep across his ex
pressive face. It was an artistic performance,
for the changes took in first surprise, then an
instant' of. puzzlement, and finally courteous
comprehension.
"Oh, yes, quite all right, thank you," he
said, and nodded kindly at the man. As the
latter retreated John made a casual but suf
ficient comment on the incident.
"Some head waiters," he announced; "ap
pear to call all diners "Smith.' just the same
as some men call all waiters 'George.'"
He was quite satisfied with this effort, but
the lady's comment wiped the smile from his'
faC "But they ought to do much better - than
Smith," she suggested. "Don't most men resent
being called Smith?"
John was under the ice nowi cold and
gasping, but he rallied feebly.
"Oh, I don't think so. You see, there are
so many er distinguished Smiths, and it's a
name of such fine traditions "
He was glad to be interrupted by a waiter,
who served another course. Also the inter
ruption gave him time for a saving remembrance.
"Your own name is Smith, you know," he
could not help reminding her. "That alone
lends luster to it."
"I know it is Smith" she spoke sadly, ig
noring the compliment and with an effect of
dwelling on what now appeared to be the flaw
in a happy life. "I've always hated it." She
smiled the smile that so enchanted him. "I
hope to change it some day."
Under the shock of these simple words John
Smith went under the iee again and for a per
ceptible interval remained there. When he
emerged and spoke his voice was unnatural.
"You haven't yet made .any any arrange
ment to change it have you?"
She suspended the action of her fork and
looked at him with raised eyebrows. Her ex
pression showed surprise and a suggestion of
disapproval, but he met her eyes with some
thing in his that touched her.
"Please tell me." he, begged. "Are you en
gaged to be married?" In a desperate attempt
to seem normal he caught at the name he had
so carefully avoided. "Uncle James didn't tell
me you were," he added, with unconscious
pathos.
Miss Mary Smith drank half a glass of wa
ter. She drank it very slowly, -and when- she
set down the glass there was an odd light in her
eyes which had not been there before. But she
spoke indifferently.
"There's no reason why .1 should not an
swer your question," she said as she resumed
her dinner. "I am not engaged to be marritd."
Her host drew a deep breath and, leaning
back in his chair, beamed at her ecstatically.
His relief was obvious and almost pathetic,
but an unsympathetic nature seemed to He
under Miss Smith's beautiful exterior. She ate
her dinner with an expression of detachment,
as. if her thoughts were elsewhere. John
pulled himself together and gallantly went into
action again.
"These little personal prejudices are very
interesting things," he said. "I've got a few
myself, but I make a special point of not in
dulging them. To yield to them is too narrow
ing. I'm sure you feel the same way. For ex
ample, just suppose you learned to lova a man
named Smith. Surely you wouldn't refuse to
marry him merely because his name was Smith,
would you?"
He asked the question in what he fondly
hoped was a careless manner, b4it his heart
dropped a beat as he waited for her reply. For
a moment it did not come. Miss Smith was
absorbed in a head dress worn by a woman
guest who had just taken a seat at a table near
her. She seemed hardly to have heard his
question and almost started when he urgently
repeated: "Would you?" He could see her
'mind return to him as if from a little journey.
"Would I refuse any one named Smith?"
she asked, rather vaguely. "Why. I have never
thought about it." She smiled again. "Fate isn't
as relentless as we think," she said. "I don't
believe she would play such a shabby trick on
me as to let me fall in love with a man named
Smith. You see, I have had the name for 21
years, as it is. I think I have had my share of
it."
Her companion again submerged like a sub
marine. The attention of Miss Smith returned
and Warren
"Isn't very sweet," criticised Car
rie. "These smooth rinds never are.
Don't you know how to select
melons?" with ; exasperating super
iority. "Always get them with the
rough skin. Oh!" dropping her
spoon to clasp her right jaw.
"What's he going to do today?" de
manded Warren, concerned. "You're
not having any more out?"
"No, he's just fixing that bridge
work. It's hurt ever since he put it
in."
Humph, don't think , much of
these dentists who want to yank out
every tooth in your head so they
can jam in a lot of " high-priced
bridge work."
"Well, I've been to the best spe
cialists and they all said they had to
come out. Goodness knows what
it'll cost." Then as Cora brought in
a large platter of bacon and eggs,
"Oh, aren't we going to have any
cereal?"
"Why, neither of us care for it in
hot weather," explained Helen.
. "What an idea! Best thing you can
eat. Bobbie must have some."
"We've oatmeal but that takes so
long to cook." Then to Cora, en
tering with the steaming muffins,
"See if there isn't a package of dry
cereal on that shelf over the ice
box. If there is, bring Bobbie a sau
cer." "These muffins are great," Warren
buttered one liberally.
"I thought they'd be better than
toast on account of Carrie's teeth."
"I'm net quite toothless yet." bris
(Tura to 1'uge Five, Column Two.)
to the elaborate coiffure of her neighbor. Then
John came up for air. Another saving reflection
occurred to him.
"Oh, well, if it came to that," he said, com
fortably, "a man could have his name changed
by law to something fancy, like Algernon Orov
crnor Montmorency. Lots of men do. 'ould
you like that name?"
"No."
"What would you like? What's jour fav
orite name?"
"David"
"That's a fine name." John promptly de
elded that his new name should be David.
"What else?"
"Well, if I were choosing a. name from
all the world" Miss Smith spoke now with
tho thoughtfulncss due to tho importance of
the topic "I think I Rhould choose 'David
King.' I don't like middle names," she added,
"and I don't liko lust names of more than one
syllable. I think David King is a dignified,
manly name."
John nodded. 1
And Mrs. David King will look (treat on
visiting cards," he contributed. "So order yours
as soon as you like. That's going to be your
future name."
"Is this a prophecy?" Miss Smith -suemed
really interested. Smith shook hi head.
"No: it's a mere statement of fact." HU
guest slowly drew on her gloves
"It's a quarter past seven. We must stsrt
back to town," she decided.
"All right. But we've got to settie a lot of
things we can't discuss at the play. For example,
what time shall I call to take you out to breV
fast? You mustn't miss the flower market"
"O, thank you very much, but I can't break
fast with you. I'm going to breakfast In my
room and shop all morning:"
, "Great Scott!" - Tho world grew dark be
fore the eyes of young, Mr. Smith. "And sail
at 4! Why, that doesn't leave us any time at
all!"
"You might come to lunch with me at the
hotel." The lady was plainly relenting. "That
is, if you don't mind lunching late about
half after 1."
"And you sail at 4," Smith dully repeated.
"Well, if that's the best you can do for m
But don't let's lunch at the hotel," he added
hurriedly, a sudden vision of Kittie's friend ar-1
Miss Smith's unknown escort returning to him.
"Meet me at Delmqnico's, and i we'll stop at the
hotel for your baggage on the way tQ the boat "
"Perhaps that will be bettor." she conceded.
"It's nearer the shops." ' .
Mr. John Smith put in the golden hours of
the following morning strenuously watting for
half past one. More than 30 minutes before
that time he reached Delmonlco's, and having
ordered a perfect luncheon, established him-'-self
in the lobby to wait for his guest. In the
emotional strain of their parting he had for
gotten to tell Miss Smith in what room they
would meet. Early that morning, however,
desiring to hear her voice, he called her up
on the pretext of such understanding. He was
forced to leave his message with an indifferent
clerk. Miss Smith had already gone out, but
might be back soon. Sunk in a big chair and
reflecting gloomily upon his disappointment, Mr.
Smith was startled by a fresh young voice.
"How do you do, Mr. Smith. This Is Kittie'f
brother, isn't it? I didn't get your telephone
mseaa era tmm tVm clprlt till half an hour asto.
Then I hurried right up here. It's so kind of
you to take so much trouble."
Motionless and with dropped Jaw John stood
and stared at the figure before him, wt-
voice had brought him mechanically to his feet.
It was a pretty girlish figure and the girl was
the fluffy, flapper type he had originally ex
pected Mary Smith to be. The ass of a clerk
had given her his message. And here she
was expecting to be entertained and fed and
to use up the last hours in which the only
Mary Smith on earth could be with him. Words
"failed John. He stared, speechless, while the
round, pretty face of the girl regarding him
slowly took on an expression of puzzled con
fusion. Mr. Smith! Mr. John Smith! Mr. John
Smith!"
A page was passing, calling his name. Me
chanically John responded, mechanically he ac
cepted the note the boy gave him, apologized
to little Miss Smith, and opened and read the
note.
"Dear Mr. Smith: I can't go on with it!
It's too horrid of me! You see, I'm not Kitties
chum at all, though I know her and I am in
her class. I had to come down unexpectedly
yesterday. The other Mary Smith decided to
wait till morning and I was so lonesome and
I knew the whole plan and I was sure Kittle
wouldn't mind and so when you came up end
spoke to me in the hotel I took the other Mary's
place just for a lark and to see if I could carry
it off. I'm so ashamed of myself! I know the
real Mary came this morning and I hope you
will get in touch with her. Goodby. I won't
apologize. But pleascf forgive me for every
thing and especially for teasing you about
your name and letting you realize that I wasn't
the real Mary. I did that to see what you
would do. MARY SMITH."
"P. S. -You were wonderful!"
As they took in this remarkable document
the eyes of John Smith shone like incandescent
lights. The next instant he was addressing
the second Mary Smith.
"Miss Smith,' are you a good sort?"
She looked at him uncertainly.
"Why, I I hope so," she faltered.
"Well, I'm going to throw myself on your
understanding. Something very vital to me has
just come up. Will you eat your luncheon
here alone it's all ordered and then will you
let me call at your hotel and take you to
dinner and the theater this evening? Then I'll
explain everything In detail. Will you do that?"
The second Miss Mary Smith was a good
sort. She showed it by her surprised but
prompt reply.
"Why, of course I will."
"Three rousing cheers for you!" John fer
vently exclaimed. He took her into the dining
room, seated her at the table he had secured,
paid for her luncheon, and generously tipped
the waiter, and then hurled himself into a
taxicab. -
He was not surprised to learn that Miss
Mary Smith was not at the hotel and that her
luggage had already been sent to the boat. She
was, however, on the City of Havana when he
bribed his way on board. There, in the final
hour before its sailing, Mr. John Smith put In
the most eloquent and soul-satisfying hour of
his life. The result of this hour he gave to
the second Mary Smith at 7 o'clock that even
ing as he radiantly faced her across a small
table at the Ritz.
"You see," he explained. "I've Just become
engaged to be married. - And under some con
ditions a man's engagement day can be lather
full and strenuous!"
(Copyright, 1821. by Elitabeth Jordan.) -
NEXT SUNDAY
"THE RED FISHER "
By OWEN OLIVER.