Evening Star Newspaper, April 21, 1940, Page 93

g I S S S e ——— THIS WEEK MAGAZINE "PRETTY PECULIAR PEOPLE" And so, encouraging each other in this way, they made ready for that great ordeal — the critical inspection of their peers. When they arrived at the house, however, they were separat- ed almost immediately. Audrey had but a brief glimpse of Norma through a shifting, chattering crowd. That was all right. Audrey was quite reassured about her hat. Two seniors, three juniors and a sophomore had said, in all earnestness, it was the best-looking hat they had ever seen in their lives. All her hostesses were being charming to her. Audrey could think of nothing more wonderful than to belong to such a sorority. And she was beginning to relax a little. She was just preparing to enjoy to the full a piece of cake filled with whipped cream when Barbara Randolph arrived. . It was natural, Audrey told herself, severely, that everybody should make a terrible hullabaloo about Barbara. Even if she had not been Brick Ran- i dolph’s sister she would have been of more than ordinary interest. She caught Audrey’s eye at once. “Oh, hello!"’ she cried warmly. “But now wait a minute — don’t tell me —] met you somewhere this morning, didn't 1?”’ “Yes,” Audrey said, smiling stiffly. “It's awful,”” Barbara confided. “I’ve met so many people today, I've got everybody all mixed up. But I re- | member you all right — you’re Rita Prendergast !”’ “No,” Audrey said, trying not to sound displeased. “I’'m Audrey Rey- nolds. I'm from Medville.” BARBARA clapped one hand to her brow. ‘“Wouldn't you know!’ she cried. ‘‘I'm the original scatterbrain! Of course you're not Rita Prendergast ! Rita was the one from San Diego! How could I get San Diego mixed up with Medville? I ask you!” “Medville — " A girl called Carrie Barnes struck into the conversation, smiling at Barbara. “Isn’t that the place this wonderful new man of yours comes from? The one you were raving about at lunch — Gene, his name was?’’ Barbara laughed. She looked at Audrey without embarrassment. “You know Gene Walton, don’t you? Oh, of course, you do! You were talking to him when I met you! You know who I mean? Tall — and dark —and kind of takes your breath away?”’ “Yes,”” Audrey said. “‘I know him.” ““He’s Barbara’s latest interest in life,”” Carrie said. ‘‘Does he really rate all that build-up?”’ “l don’t know,”” Audrey said. “I like him all right.” She cut off a bit of sponge cake with the side of her fork. When she put it into her mouth it tasted like sawdust and was pretty hard to swallow. Somehow she managed to smile, in a semblance of calm amusement, as some of the other girls joined Carrie Barnes in teasing Barbara. It seemed that Barbara was marvelous when she was in love. Some of the older girls, who knew Brick Randolph, had heard about that. “And she always gets her man,” Carrie explained to Audrey. “That’s what Brick told me.” Audrey nodded. She felt wooden and stupid. She could not think of anything bright and amusing to say. But it no longer mattered very much what Carrie or any of the rest of them thought of her. She didn’t care about their old sorority. SAE put this decision into words a little while later. Gene had called for her in his old car, and he was taking her back to her temporary lodgings. “Well?”" he demanded. ‘“How’d you get along? Have a pretty good time?”’ “Not very,” Audrey said, misera- bly. “I guess I didn’t like them very much and I guess they didn’t like me very much.” “Why — for gosh sake! I thought you said that was the best sorority there was!”’ “Well, I can change my mind, can't I?” “Sure you can— but it doesn’t make sense, just the same. Say, I meant to ask you — was Barbara Randolph there?”” “Yes.” “She phoned and left a message for Continved from page five me — wants to introduce me to Brick. I thought it was kind of nice of her to think of it.” “‘I suppose the Randolphs are pretty important,”” Audrey said in a muffled voice. Fronk Beaven *Break a few buttons on my husband's shirts, so he'll think I'm doing the wash" *‘Sure they are! But that’s not the point,” he added, turning to stare at her. “You don’t think I'd deliberately make a play for the right contacts, do you? You don’t think I'm that kind of a heel?” “No. I guess you just happen to like Barbara!”’ “Well — yes, I do.” “So that’s how it is — you’re mak- ing a play for her because you like her.” “Why, I'm doing no such thing!”’ he said indignantly. ‘‘I'm just admit- ting she’s been very helpful and friendly — just admitting an obvious fact, that’s all!” Audrey had not meant to quarrel. She had meant only to sound out Gene's attitude towards Barbara Randolph in a tactful, dignified way. She had even framed a few subtle questions with that idea in mind. But she found herself saying things she hadn’t planned to say at all. “Of course,” she declared, “if you want somebody to own you body and soul just because their brother plays football — *’ ‘‘What,”” he cried wildly, “is the sense to that?"’ “Then I think,” Audrey went on, steadying her voice, “it would be a whole lot more honorable if you came right out and said what this whole situation is, instead of hinting around and around - the way you're doing, talking about people being helpful and friendly — ‘Helpful and friendly’ you said! As if you were some poor old gentleman that couldn’t get across the street or something. Why, I never heard anything so crazy!” GENE stopped at a red light and glumly eyed the passing traffic. “Neither did I,” he said, ‘“‘ever hear anything so crazy!” “Oh! Meaning me?"’ “Well, not meaning the Dean of * Women.” “If that’s a wisecrack,” Audrey said, “you did better than that back in high school.” “Can’t I like a girl?” “Certainly you can! So I can hear about it eating sponge cake!"’ The light turned green; they shot forward. “I don’t know,” Gene said, ‘“what sponge cake’s got to do with it. Maybe I’m dumb. Can’t I like a girl?”’ Audrey bit her lip. When she spoke her voice was under control. “I keep trying to tell you you can,” she said. “I keep trying to tell you I don’t care who you like, one way or the other. But I did give you credit for not behaving in such a peculiar way — so the whole world can know about it, and be talking about it — every- body but me! But I don’t care! You can go out with anybody you want and meet a million people’s brothers — and I don't care if I never see you again as long as I live! I don’t care!” Gene pulled the car to the curb. Audrey climbed out with as much dig- nity as descent from that ancient vehicle made possible. “Of course,” he said, ‘‘we’re both going to the same university. But I'll do the best I can to keep out of your way!"’ . “Thank you,” Audrey said. Then, abruptly, he drove away. His ears, she observed, were very red. Audrey gained the sanctuary of her own room and, as she closed the door, it came to her that she was homesick. That was the name for this feeling she had. The monstrous wave of nos- talgia engulfed the humiliation of the sorority tea, and the subsequent parting from Gene. She might as well have been a million miles away from the old white house on Vista Road, from the maple tree in the front yard, from Milbank’s soda fountain, from all the other dear and familiar scenes. She pulled off the hat with the crazy feather and flung herself on the bed to cry her heart out. But even this privilege was denied her. Five seconds later Norma Ram- say knocked at the door and came bounding in without waiting. “My dear!” said Norma, staring. “What for Pete’s sake are you crying about?”’ Audrey sat up hastily and blew her nose. “Oh, I guess I've got a tooth- ache,” she said. “But I thought you got all through with Dr. Barch before we left home!"’ “Yes,” Audrey said. “So I did. This is a tooth he must have missed. A back one.” “Does it hurt a lot?"” IAVORIS “No. It seems to have stopped all of a sudden.” Audrey managed a smile. “What have you got on your so-called mind?”’ ‘“Nothing,”” Norma said happily. “Only I guess we got over all right this afternoon — don’t you think so? And don’t you think they’re a per- fectly marvelous crowd, my dear?’” “Oh, sure,” Audrey said. ‘“‘Marve- lous — marvelous — marvelous!” Norma’s ear was, as usual, deaf to 13 sarcasm. “I’m so thrilled I could die,” she declared. “Aren’t you? Oh, I’m so glad I wore the blue outfit! And aren’t you mad about Barbara Randolph? Did you know she was Brick Ran- dolph’s sister? And we're in almost all the same classes!” ) Norma did not wait for any answer.’ She was trying out Audrey’s new lip- stick. Audrey looked at her, through the mirror, a trifle wistfully. “You (Continved on poge 16) BATHROOMS! Make them CLOROX-CLEAN AN OUNCE of prevention is worth a pound of cure” ... and that's especially true in cleansing bathrooms, where infection dangers may easily spread. Millions of housewives use Clorox as their “ounce of prevention”in routine cleansing of wash- basins, bathtubs, toilet bowls; tile, enamel, linoleum, wood surfaces. For Clorox provides protective cleanliness—makes bathrooms spick-and-span, fresh-smelling, sanitary. Clorox also has many important personal uses. Directions on the label. AMERICA'S FAVORITE BLEACH AND HOUSEHOLD DISI‘JFECTANY CLOROX I BIed Pttt . NEARADIYEE . Ntihicirce ] TBLEACHES - DEODORIZES - DISINFECTS' | REMOVES NUMEROUS STAINS ... PURE-SAFE DEPENDARLE Even Scorch and Mildew ; Lavoris. THAT'S WHY | sWISH LAVOR/IS [/ The Stimvlating Mouthwash nd Gargl, i et If being well-groomed in every detail adds mere to your evening's enjoyment . . ."swish Lavoris! Swishing means vigorously working tongue and cheeks, forcing Lavoris in between the teeth, along the gums, over the tongue and into tissue creases. . Lavoris chemically coagulates and removes the stale film in the mouth—that coating which harbors germs and fermenting, odor-producing accumula- tions. This action is distinctively characteristic of !/ FEEL HAPPIER WHEN MY MOUTH FEELS C-(-EA-N- “Swish” is the right word for the right way to use Lavoris — to keep the mouth and throat clean and healthfully stimulated. You'll like the fresh, tingling after-effect, for Lavoris is mediciaal in action but pleasing in taste. WHY DON'T YOU START SWISHING TODAY ?