New Britain Herald Newspaper, July 21, 1926, Page 4

Quicksands of Love ‘Adele Garrison’s New Phase of Revelations of a Wife Katherine Agrees To Supervise Junior For a Year “Philip Verltzen has spelled ‘Op- portunity’ to many men and wom- &n," Lilllan zaid, “but you can W or the last caraway seed in cookie he doesn't give even the tin- iest second rap st anybody's door. Tndeed, I haven't stopped wondering yet why he didn't remove himself courteousiy but finally trom Madge' vioinity when she dared to hint that she had to insure proper care for her child before she could take up als work. Children, wives, hus- bands and family ties are less than nothing to Philip Veritzen if they some into contlict with his plans.” She aid not glance toward me, nor 410 she give her tones any signifi- cant inflection, vet I found myself Aushing hotly, for I was sure she aiso had surmised that Philip Verit- zen's interest in me held something besides his natural gratification at having found someone to do his re- search work as he wished it. ‘Now, Katrina, it's up to you,” Idllian regarded Katherine steadily. “Can vou, will you, stay here with Madge for a year and take all the responsibility and care of Junior of her Bands? Frankly, I'm surprised that there's any question to be an- swered. 1 was so sure that you were going to stay, that Madge and I went ahead and planned your room as !¢ you were going to occupy it permanentiy.” Kathert and in ¢ £ fui re askiak her th Meredith's tragic suicide r free to answer in th tive. “3 am going to occupy It perma- nentl she said, “or as long as Madge needs me. Her volce was firm, there was something in which made me realize that she also was dwelling morbidly upon the s eyes flashed to mine em wes a wordless and ognition of my delay in question which Lucia had left affirma- quiet, but its timbre | ! thing which had released her for my aid. That Lillian recognized it also, 1 knew by the brisk way in which she turned the subject. “Then that's that,” said. Come upstairs, Katrinka, Madge and I want to show you what we've I accomplishing.” Do you think it's safe to leav Junior all alone in the apastment ?" I said, with the fear which always has been upon me since the time of his kidnaping Drafias Take Your Bow, Madge!” “Considering that flight of stai \” Lillian said I believe it will be perfectly Lock the door, if you're nerv- He's too well trained to touch matches or turn on the gas or the water faucets. Oh! yes, you m take your bow, dge. You de- serve it.” I laughed at her nonsense, but T e we' only one locked the door behind us neverthe- | less as we made our way to the third floor, the transforming of which Lillian and I had been supervising. Tacitly had refrained from in- viting Katherine to look at it, and she had been bunking with me in one of the two rooms which a h ily built partition had made of the immense rear room on the, second floor, while Katie had occupied tem- porary quarters on the fourth floor of the building. But now, Lilli evidently had decided that it high time to rep the introspei tive memories in Katherine's brain with a practical exhibit of what were to be her surroundings during the year which she had promised to me. When we r Jillian threw open one with a flourish. “There, Katherine!” said. “What do you think of your setting for this coming year?” (Copyright, 1926, by Newspaper Feature Service, Inc.) ched the third floor, of the doors she A Door is Shut in Danny’s Face By Thornton W. Burgess It is not always a disgrace Te have a door shut in your —Danny Meadow Mouse. face. It all depends on who shuts the ioor, and why. Yes, sir, it does so. While it isn’'t considered polite to siut a door in another's face, in mes of danger it is sometimes the possible thing to do. Danny low Mou never will forget the irsi time he had a certain door shut in his face. It S0 surpris- ng that he rubbed his eyes to see it had really happened. You see, it as this way: Danny ad discovered a very small crab arrying a shell on his back. It look- sest $0 Danny scampered after the funny little crab with the shell on his back 4 to snail, tound shell of a as he had him much just the 1 like such a sh more than |erabs he {couldn’t stared. once more and 3 started crab with to know thought it had been 1 of the one went about to his back. Like the had seen, sidewjse. Danny was jus pounce on it when that appeared as if he had be ed alive. Yes, rir that was way it was, One instant Da those scuttling little legs ben shell, and the next instant that shell s lying on its side without a sign is rest n swallow- s, t the 15, W saw of crab. much for Danny su1 had that crab hole in and has too under the gone to? “He the sand,” thought gone down in that.” Danny poked the There wasn't any hole. have ny's face. He looked everywhere but at the shell. Finally he looked at the shell. 1t was then he discovered thar hat shell wasn . empty. At least, ec into it. He looked more closely, Ther ¢ right across that openin, just like a door. didn’t understand Perhaps it was Where have anny must a T shell You aside, would That claw w Even then Danny He sat down and was because he sat still so long that that crab thought he had gone aw way, suddenly those legs appeare ay raced the shell imed Danny, Once more the le the shell But as be- which v opening of his time Danny kept his fixed on that door. After a it moved, Then it was pushed Then followed the nd a moment senttled that the shell on his back. Danny had seen enough now that that shell wasn't car- 1 on the crab's back the way he He kn simply hacked had shut the “Oh!" excl fter it p d. C lay apparently deserted. there claw the more fore, was one 1 door the shell cross eyes while out ter away But ri now that that crab had into that shell and | crab dis- | h the | laughed if you could see Dan- | he | up on the Green 1 same Meadows, It size and a good deal th shape. The little crab away with it S “Now. T wondcr what th foing with that shell,” Danny to himself. “My, strong to carry that shell his ba hat It covers him up o tha can see is his legs. He can run p considering the load . I'd like to see looks like without that Bis back. T b I'll knock 2. | (G L1996, by T 8¢ Danny npered tunny little with door of his big that that that shell. for he was Hermit Crab. understand it t for the b in his face with And he suspected s still partly as right rmit the couldn’t erab) in He ny it crab is muttered he must be around on does it n He how a could hard with get acquainted with that 1d Danny, “I certainly t to get acauainted with him. he performance 1 with a shell iround Tar ! rry i got to queerest W “Hermit Burg s érab Gets a LOVE Love, wt god beckon who her now talk Awakeni the 1S A JEALOUS GOD ) ich very jealous lit- became cold and deaf She found that to talk of 1 only of nd w rou 1d ling up the in- mbling paraphernalia upor body of a man It was evidently be- that an turned in the to g in an alcove this murder call had been someor There was in this room, and it that the man had been killed in rel over cards some time be- Just why the others had not used love cause of emergency om by sordid table ally was. Life suddenly became |dent unbearable. She knew that she a q Would never get anything but stone | fore. it she asked for bread; and so she their get-away was incompre- took her starved heart out of this|hensible world—i* mattered not where. { T The paper rustled in my I started across the room to I upon the top of the pile from I had picked it up when I account of a shooting affray was Cornwall outside a notorfous gambling house. | My hands that were holding the Two or three paragraphs were (paper fell at my sides. I felt myselt given up to this story, which in-[recling. T caught+ hold of the desk volved the murder of a policeman, |to steady myselt. Again I read the | only one thing was evi- made hand y identified as a ncer who had of la dif- His name I {some and w young professional d quite a swathe mbling hous: man s quicl vas quite hich |cut | the |feren Just and then at the end, as though it |story. Again my heart grew cold were rnol of much and hot as the blood Tushed from hese linea: it to my braln and back again. "ben the police lg into the| Things g happen. The sinner and TS s ki S e A account, were lite of him | him. | e righteous one are rewarded ac- cording to their deserts, | R 3 d to n elf, “However much we worl and plan and think that by |our 'own unaided efforts we will carry out thut plan, we always come to a place where we know. that right does prevail. There was no use of getting that |fitty thoumnd dollars now. Barry Cornwall was dead. He had | gone before another judge from |whose decision there was no further | appeal. My thoughts raced to the two |young women, one of them very [rich, and one of them very poor, who would be vitally interested in |this story that probably some re- porter had written and forgotten as soon as he had turned it in ‘at the copy desk. (Copyright, 1925, Inc)) A Service, TOMORROW Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of Illness Joan Gets a Shock. EDITOR'S NOTE: This is th |second of a series of three articles on the dangers of water supply con- tamination, | BY HUGH § TMIN | Surgeon General, United | Public Health Service Stream and lake steadily increased in the United States in the last few years in direct ratio to our rapidly increasing pop- ulation. Now it extremely diffi- cult to secure a supply of water that pollution has | ‘nonr' [flirt ev It |AN READ THIS FIRST: MERRY LOCKE, as pretty and gay as her nickmame, has been a r since she was sixteen. “Boy C was_what MOMS, her mother, called her when she was in high school. At 20 Merry fafls in her stenog- raphy course at business college, and when her father dies she es a job in LILLIE DALE beauty shop. At that having first of the affair her ly and _since love with HONY GAINES, a young lawyer. Tony wants her to marry him. But Merry tells him that of hw love affairs have ever and she's afraid that even won't. So they decide to six months before they real love She is deep- is I d this one it for 1 i boy is safe to drink without being puri- | fied. | In many cases tk |is becoming so gre: should be any mat will no longer be poss the water cost. contamination al increase, ible to purif except at a prohibiti it Controllable | Fortunately, many of the factors responsible for stream pollution ar |controllable, tending to make an otherwise had situation more hope- [ful. The object of these articles is to point out the need for ous consideration of a problem of stead- ily increasing importance, a problem which the public health service has for years stuc in great detail. At the present time, the subject of stream pollution is engaging th tudious attention of many scien- i These workers are seeking |diligently to reduce the contamina- tion of natural water gourses. So far, progress in combatthg the condi- |tions responsible for’ pollution hav |been slow, because many people fail 1to realize how the problem affects them individually. - Pollution Limit Officers of state and vernments are constantly seeking ite information on this subject at appropriate action may be vken. There is a limit to amount of pellution a given body of may receive and the water & capable of being for domestic at an expense is not prohibitive. effects of stream within wide limits. {ume and character of the |entering the water course are portant factors in determining {extent of pollution. | The character and |which streams are put |concerned in estimating {of contamination. accu 50 t water till | s which | The Ivary rendered The sewers im- the vol- use to likewise effects e the | Fortunately, the principal evil ef- fects of pollution are now well |known. Were this not true, it would [pe more difficult to check 1t at its sources. | Menas for the Family Raspberries, crisp graham cereal, m, milk, coffee. Luncheon — Scalloped whole wheat bread, ginger bread, milk, tea. Dinner baked ereamed huekleberr; milk, coffee. | 1f shredded cabbage is added to a tart lemon jelly and the mixture placed in the ice-box to chill and be- firm a simple delicions salad is the result. You ¢an use your fav- brand of prepared jelly or and add lemon juice to suit To make the salad a bit |more festive, coarsely chopped nuts can be sprinkied over just before erving. Nuts lose their crispness if | allowed to stand in a gelatine mix- | toa: “alisbury steak with buttered rice, jellied cabbage, roly-poly, rye bread, come | orite your in t aste ture, Scalloped Spinach | o cups ehopped cooked spinach, poon salt, 1-4 teaspoon pep- ver, 3 hard cooked eggs, 1 cup finely | chopped cooked ham, 1 cup |sauce, 4 tabléspoons grated 4 tablespoons buttered crumbs, | tablespoon butter. ason spinach and butter. Put well-buttered baking dish. Cover with a layer of ham. Pour over white sauce and add eggs cut in thin slices, Cover with remaining spinach. Sprinkle with grated cheese and cov- er with buttered crumbs. Put into a hot oven to brown the crumbs and thoroughly heat the mixture, (Copyright, 1 NEA Service, ite cheese, | | 14 salt of it with half pepper into\a The ORIGINAL \ Maited Milk Milk | \ TheAged | Nourishing—Digestible— No Cooking. | Tlgn Home Foozd-Drink for All Ages | URNS2naSCALDS A Stop the throbbing and smarting at once with a soothing touch of Resinol municipal | pollution | spinach, | | | i the |BTeen | | gorgeous red |the marry. Then, one night when Tony breaks an engagement with her, Merry lets Derrick Jones, a college who lives next door. make love to her as he often has in the days before m Tony Later or hen M confesses this to Tony explains that she did it with him for breaking an engagement with her. But Tony doesn't gt her point of view on the thing and he stops see Finally he shuts up his and goes to Montana to live. Merry's oldest sister, HF BILL HEPWORTH. seapnd oldest, < MAN, he worl CAS- marries a 81 MORL broker for many ye the younges Derrick Jones under her very finds herself without time in her life, So when BILL bachelor friend of Morley an’s, pays her attention, she is pleased and flattered. He is t eling man, and he sends her all sorts of lovely gifts from the towns that he “makes” on his trips. The night before Christmas she ks Bill to lend her a thousand dolars to buy hersedf a share in Lillie that MURIEL, wham JIn; of the sl away from Merry nose, and Merry beaus, for the first Kauf- a aufman's sister, thinks it's art’” for a girl to own her own shop, and arns to be smart” above all things. After somw argument Bill writes a check for the thou- sand. The next morning Merry answers the doorbell, thinking that Bill is calling at the house, (NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY) CHAPTER XXVII the porch stood messenger boy, teboard box that most as tall as he w “Mrs, Locke?” e asked, squint- ing up at Merry wih white-lashed eyes. Miss a small, holding a s al- on freckled Locke,” Marry answered and took the box. 3ut the flowers in # were her. They dozen were poinsettias—a whole of them. velvet bilossoms and was tucked a tiny with Moms' name on it. Somebody’s sent you flowers,” Merry called, carrying them out to the kitchen. “Poin- settias, with stems rd long!” Moms was sitting at the table the window, peeling potatoes. e looked up as Merry came into warm, sunny room. v, who do you suppose was fool enough to send me all those expensive flowers?” she sniffed. “Fatty, I suppose. atty” was what called Bill ine, back. She had refused to invite him to Chrl today Merr about it. at Bill in the afternoon. and dizzy that it to have to dress. “Yes, they are said, opening the for her mother. for Moms.” he s Moms' lip curled & “He flatters himself ‘Moms',” she said, laugh. “P'll het he's old as T am! ome time when he mood for ‘Moms," indeed! I She got up and two chickens roasting in the oven. “I just wish I had pal for those silly aid over her shoulder. “Put them in that pail under the sink, Merry. We haven't a vase in the hou; half big enough for them.” She turned scarlet-faced from the heat of the stove and surveyed the poinsettias with a cold and calcu- lating e “I never knew a man money around the way kine does!” she remarked. must have all of it that he needs, “He surely has” answered Merry, thinking of the check as folded in her handbag dark leaves envelope Moms by the she always behind his point-blank tmas dinner had been furious with her, But she was glad now w coming until late She felt so sick was a relief not frota Bill,” she little envelope ornfully —calling me with a grim pretty nearly I'll tell him so, too, 1 happen to be in plain speaking— like his nerve began to bus that she W the money he flowers!” she a to throw that Ers “He up- drew a quick breath and a look of horror swept over her fac “Ye gods and little fish-hooks! she cried. haven't bought any ristmas present for him! _ I meant to get something for him— and then I just forgot it, I guess! Oh, my soul, what will T do?" She made a movement with her hands, almost as if she were ping- ing them. “I remembered she moaned. She had. She had remembered to buy a clock for Moms, a fancy powder-puff for Cassle, a salad set for Helen, a flapper belt for Jinny! Perhaps Jinny could help her out! She probably had hought some kind of gift for the infatuated Derrick. “Jinny!" of her voic going to give mas?" “A bill fold,” Jinny's volce floated down from upstairs, where she was making beds and dusting. A leather bil) fold. Why?" 1 erybody else,” Merry called at the top , “Jinn what are yi Derrick for Chr soprano time she | to | > [ bin She explains | not for | And among their | “Merry Christmas | that | “I want you to give it to me, in- [stead,” Merry answered her. She was |halfway ‘up the stairs by this time. | “You see,” she explained, going linto Mom's bedroom, “I forgot to |get anything for Bill Erskine—" “And you want me to glve you |Derricl’s present so you can give lit to him?” asked Jinny, getting |the idea at once. | Merry nodded “Well, briskly. you must think I'm crazy! |Jinny retorted, with a withering |look. “You must think I come Ifrom the place where the woodpeck- |ers eat up the railroad station ‘Why should T let you present for your {Willy-boy? Why didn't you buy [him something yourself I %I told you I forgot,” Merry re- |minded her gently. “Well, that's your funeral, not mine,” answered Jinny, beating the pillows into shape. She straightened the window cur- tains, picked up a thread from the |carpet and went out of the room, |huming to herself. Merry followed her across the 11 to their own little bedroom. She went fo her and put her arm aronnd her, “Jinny, pl fold, linge: You've known that he's sure to understand thing when you But if T don't se me have that pleaded. Derrick so long let whole lain it to hi 11 think myself with him. i 1 |don’t care & bit for hi | “Well, you don't either!” Jinny {came back at her. “If you did you |would have bought him a Chris |mas present, wouldn't you? The [trouble with vou, Merry, is that |you're never honest with your |men friends. Derrick says | you're as two-faced as a totem- | potet™ | “Derrick!” Merry a fine one fo talk, isn't [pose he didn't start playing around vou ahout a week after he asked {'me to marry him, did he? He's not two-faced. Oh, no!” But she knew that it was useless |to argue with Jinny any longer. She went downsiairs to Moms set the table for dinner. - en cried. “He's he | - | Even if she had bought a Christ- |mas present for Bill, she could not given it to him that day, t turned out. For two o'clock, just as was sitting down to dinner |Moms and Jinny, she began to feel |sick. Not just hot and dizzy, as she had been all morning, but |dreadfully sick. | Pains shot through her and stomach. Pains that took breath aw up like a jack-knife, The meal grew cold on the dining oom table while Moms and Jinny ot her upstairs and into bed. She and twisted and cried out lin her agony. The ginger - tea that | Moms forced down her throat only d to make her worsi “I'm dying! I'm dying |clared in gasping shrieks. [thought tHat she was. But Moms knew better. | “No, you're not!” she said firmly. But you will if you don't swallow some more of this ginger-tea! You're having one of those stomach attacks that your father used to have when he was alive, that's all! Now, open your mouth and take this, and no more nonsense!” She held the ginger-tea to Merry's col- |orless lips and made her drink it to the last scalding drop. “You've just eaten something that's . upset your stomach,” she added, nodding her head wisely. You probably had lobster salad, |or some such thing last night. I'll tell you, you never know what you're taking into your system when you eat in one of those restaurants!” | But Merry shook her head and moaned. She knew only too well {that it was not food that had made her ill, She knew perfectly well that it was last night's liquor that had laid her low. “Never again | “What's that you say asked sharply. But Merry pretended not to hear her. Her lids were closed and her lips were open as she breathed. Ali the apple blossom color was one from her face, leaving it a | sreenish white. “Merry never drinks, does she?” ve chest her * she de- She she groaned. 7 Moms s (her mother asked Jinny, when the [two of them sat down to thelr warmed-oyer dinner a few minutes later. “No, indeed,” answered Jinny, who thought ‘that she was telling the truth. Merry spent the bed. She had caught cold, and she was afraid that she might not be |able to go to the New Year's Day |party that Cassie and Morley Kauf- {nan were going to have. So she stayed home and let Moms “doe- tor” her with hot grease, cold com- | presses and calomile She was the only one in the fam- {ily who had bene invited to the |party. And she knew that it was not because she was Cassle's sister. |that she was invited. It was be- |cause she was a friend of Morley's friend, Bill Erskine! 's getting to be a snob, me,” she said on New She was sitting up in and slippers, watching Jinny dress to go out. “She always was one, |Jinny, slipping one of Cass off evening dresses over her sleek little red head. She smiled at her dazzling reflection in the old mir- ror above the dresser. “I certainly expect to have some time on this brawl tonight,” she chanted happily. “Some of Der- rick’s fraternity broth are giv- ing it and they've got a case of gin. How many bottles is that?” venty-four,” Merry told her. “But you don’t drink, do you?"” Jinny's shining brown eyes met hers in the glass and winked at her. “Something tells me I'm going to tonight,” she said cheerfully. “Don't you do it,” her sister warned her. “You never know next few days in nswered the | give Bill a| ! present I'll never be able to square | 1 sup- | help | and made her doubl\:“! = ] By Beatrice Burton ‘Author of “Love Bound,” “HER MAN” (Lilustrated and Copyrighted by Johnson Features, Inc., 1819 Broadway, New York City) what kind of stuff you're getting these days. And, anyway, Jinny, you won't look pretty. Women look hor- rid when they're drinking.” Jinny only raised her arched eye- brows. “I certainly love the way I look in this green dress,” she murmured. “If only I had an evening cape and a gold cigaret case, and an honest- to-John orchid to wear I'd be per- feetly, madly, wildly happy!" She waved her hand and dashed down the stairs to join Derrick, who had been honking his horn in the driveway for the past ten min- utes. Merry went to bed at ten o'clock. At twelve the sound of whistles and horns announcing the new year wakened her for a moment, and then she dozed off again. Several hours later she n. Her room woke up al was still in darkness. She stretched up her arm adn switched on the light above her |bed. The clock on the table beside | her showed that it was five o'clock. Across the room Jinn bed was still empty. Downstairs |close, and th {automobile in she heard a door :n the sound of an the driveway below |the windows. Then angry voices Italking in a loud jumble in the lower hall of the house. She got out of bed and ran half- way down the stairs. There was a light in the hall and Moms stood at the foot of the stairs. She was fully dressed in her black gown and.apron and she was staring at Jinny, who had | just come in. Merry stared, too. Jinny was a different from the soarkling, lovely little lgirl who had waved her hand and run out of the house a few hours before, | Her eyes were glassy and there {was a lop-sided smile on her litle mouth. One cheek was smeared with |rouge and the other was dead white, In one of her hands she carried a bedraggled bouquet of flowers that {had once been white and were now now a brownish yellow. | “Ring out, wil' bells to sky,” sald Jinny, poetically. year is dying in the night! out, wil' bells, and let it die!” Merry saw tears spring [Mom’s blue 5 hat wretched boy next got her drunk. That's Ihappened!” she sald quietly. She | seemed to know that Merry was standing behind her on the stairs. {“That dreadful boy that 1 trusted |with my daughter. She went over to Jinny, took her | {by her littie shoulders, and began |to shake her violently. “You bad little thing! Coming |home to me like this at the break |of da I won't have this sort of |thing going on, I tell you! T will INOT have it, 1 tell you! Tl put |you in the detention home first!” " Jinny laughed in her face. foolish laugh. “Ring out, wild bells!” said Jinny. CHAPTER XXVIII The first white fingers of the cold January dawn showed in the eastern sky beforc they got Jinny into bed. ‘And then it was all they could do to make her stay there. She wanted to get up and tinker with the home-made radio set that had never worked. She wanted to sit up in bed and chant “Ring out, wild bells,” at the top of her un- steady little voice. Finally she decided to to Derrick Jones. “I've got to talk to him, right away,” she whimpered, “I've got to tell him something!” “You'll tell him nothing!” Moms said grimly, as she shoved her back on her tumbled pillows. “I'll do all the talking to that young man myself!” And, true to her word, after she land Merry finished _their morning |coffee, she put on her shawl and stalked over to the Jones. house. | She was gone about fifteen min- lutes, and when she came back she was crying. She dropped down on her chair beside the littered breakfast table land hid her face in her roughened {hands. Her big, square shoulders {heaved under the black dress of her widowhood. “I'm sure I don’t know what I've done to deserve this!” she moaned, |rocking herself back and forth, |“to have my baby come home to {me o drunk she doesn't know her |own name! And to have the |Joneses know about it, too. so they |can publish it from one end of the |street to the other!” Merry put her arms around her. “The Joneses won't dare to open their mouths about it, Moms,” she soothed her. “They know that it {was, Derrick who ~gave her what |she had to drink. And he wue |arunk, too— “That's just ft! He wasn't! Moms broke in, her voice muffled by her tears, “He was as sober as a judge! He sald he trled to make Jinny stop drinking, but she would not—and, of course, his mother be- lieves him! She thinks he's a reg- ular white *wooly lamb, but I'll never let my Jinny go out with him again, and I told them all so!” She threw a wrathful glance in the direction of the Jones' neat, white Colonial house on the other side of the leafless hedge. For years Moms had been read- ing about all the disgraceful doings of modern flappers. She had read that they smoked cigarets, drank |hard liquor, and indulged in “mug- ging parties.” And like a good many mothers these days, she had refused to be- lieve what she read. “It's just stuff thdt they fill up the newspapers with!” she had declared scornfully, time after time. “If such things were going on in the world I'd be sure to knowit. 1 have four daughters of my own.” Never once had it occurred to her that her own daughters might be do- ing things behind her back that she knew nothing about. She had brought them up to be nice girls— and so she was sure that they were nice girls—none nicer. . So now that the bitter, truth was brought hogu to her by Jinny, she a creature the wil’ “The Ring into % door A telephone what | g was not stunned. All that gloomy New. Year's day she went around the house with a dazed look on her long, fresh-col- ored face. She would tiptoe upstairs to the door of the darkened room where Jinny lay “sleeping it off,”" her head and turn away c Merry was dreadfully her. She hated to leave her when Bill Erskine called for her to take her to Cassie's “‘open house” at four that afternoon. “Jinny celebrated the New Year with wine and song last might, and Moms just can't get over it.” she told Bill, as they started along toward Cort:lyou street, under the gray wintry sky. “I guess Jinny's like me — not much of a drinker, She's still dead to the world, up- stairs in bed.” Bill shot her a sidewise glance. “You do look pretty seedy,” he said. It was the only heart-broken, but sorry for first time he had seen her since Christmas Eve. Under the wide brim of her black lace hat her face was almost as white as the gardenias pinned on her coat, fresh white gardenias that Bill had brought to her. “I feel shaky, too,” she answered. “That drink you gave me the other night was the first one I ever had, and it's going to be my last one, too." As she spoke she held up her right hand as if she were taking her solemn oath. But Bill only laughed — a rather sty laugh. ‘Don’t pull that hat-T-am-today line on me, Little Sister,” he said, twirling his cane briskly. “That wasn't anything like your first drink, and you know it. Why, you tossed it down like an old hand at the game!” Mefry flushed angrily, green flashed Dbetween thick black lashes. “No matter what you say, Bill, | that was my first taste of whis | she told him sharply, “the first taste I've ever had! that's the truth.” She knew that he knew it was, too, but for some deep, hidden rea- son of his own he wasn’'t going to admit it. ~ They walked on in silence. But Merry nev could be silent for very long. It was as natural for her to chatter as it is for a brook to chatter between its grassy banks. And by the time they reached the corner of Cortelyou street she was telling Bill about Lillie Dale and the thousand dollar check. 'She has it now, and I own part of the beauty shop!” she sald, hap- pily. “I had to serd for her one day this week because I was sick in bed, you know. And you should have seen Moms' face when she her! Of course, Lillie is pret- 1d looking with that sky-blue- pink hair of hers — and the way she paints! She just smears her face with rouge and powder and eyebrow pencil —” She broke off, for all at once saw that he was not listening to her. There was a crooked little smile on his florid face, and he was star- ing down at the point of his twirl- ing cane. “You know, Little Sister, you have the wrong slant on this busi- ness of taking a drink” he said, thoughtfully. “You think it makes an awful hit with a man to pre- tend that you're just out of kinder- garten, but it doesn’t.”” “Is that s0?” Merry asked. you-made-me- | and her the |8unday morning and in it!” she answered in her laugh- | ing, busky voice. “What good | would egg-nog be without whiskey in it, I ask to know?” She raised the glass again, Bill took it out of her hand. “Look here, Muriel,” he said, “I don't believe your mother would let you touch this stuff if she were here, and I'm not going to let you, either)” He drained it himself, to the last sweet creamy drop, while the two girls watched him with astonished eyes, “Don't you love his cheek?” Muriel asked Merry. “You'd think he was my caretaker or something, wouldn't you? 'Well, I'll just go find another egg-nog. That's but She swayed fo her feet and tloated out of the packed room. “BilL"” Merry began slowly, “why is it all right for me to drink and all wrong for Muriel to? 1 wish you'd tell me.” She had finished her egg-nog and she held out the empty glass to him. He held it ip his pudgy hands looked at il as if he were a crystal-gazer. Well, I don't know.” He seemed to muse. “I've always been sort of a big brother to little Muriel.” “Little Muriel!” repeated Merry, “She's every bit as old as I am I'd like you to know! If you're her big brother, you might be mine, too. If it’s wrong for her to drink, it's just as bad for me to, isn't it?"” he couldn't figure it Bill did not help he: He got up and walked away, and later she saw him dancing with Muriel. Her little white figure swayed against his huge one like a wind-flower against a rock. . . out And Merry did not Bill Erskine in until April of that year. He telephoned her by long dis- tance, once or twice a week, ho ever. He sent her perfume and | powder that delighted her, and books that she never opened: He telegraphed flowers fo her every wrote to her every day. “I suppose you'll —marry him next time he comes {o town, won't] you?" Jinny asked her one morne ing while they were dressing. Before Merry had time to think up an answer, she added wistfully: “Derrick and I'd get married when he comes home for Taster vaca-l tion, ourselves, if only T were old| enough. I wonder if you can geti married when vou're sixteen?” [ “You wild child, of course you can't!” Merry told her, laughing at her love-lorn look. A week later she remembered that] conversation. 1 It was one evening, '~ when she and Moms were walting for Jinnyd to come home for supper. She had)| been out riding all afternoon with| Derrick Jones, who was home for, Easter vacation, so Moms said. wonder where they can be?) Tt's after six o'clock.” She looked| up at the hall clock and then walked -out on the front porch to look for the belated pair. A second afterward Merry heard her call, and she hurried ouf to her, Moms was standing beside the mallf mail box holding a big white en-| velope in her hand. “Look here,” she said, Jinny’'s_note-paper. I ga her for Christmas.” | Merry took it. There was no ad.| dress on the envelope, and no stamp, just the words, “For Moms" scrawl.| ed across it in Jinny's childish handwriting. “This i) ve it to Her eyes were grave and ques- tioning as they met his — she felt that she could take Bill's advice in matters like this. He was such a man of the world. As he often sald himself, he “knew his onions.” “Why, sure, it's so0,” he replied in that hearty way of his. ‘“Logk around and you'll see that it iso’t the prettiest girl who wins out with the men, nowadays. It's the pep- piest one—the jolly-good-fellow girl who's never a bum sport!” He made Merry feel, somehow, that she had been what he called “3 bum sport” the other night when his liquor had made her sick and dizzy. But she didn't know what to think an hour later when some- thing happened that tilled her with puzzlement and wonder. She was sitting on a sofa of flow- ered damask in Cassie’s crowded living room, talking to Murlel Kaufman. “I wonder if T'll ever be ;fie to look the way she does?” erry was thinking to herself about Muriel as she chattered along. verything about Murlel was so finished. Her ivory skin was flaw- less under its coating of cream- colored powder. Her lips looked like red Chinese lacquer. Her hair, with its thick dark waves, was as smooth as polished ebony, and her nails were rose-colored jewels, You had only to look at her, from the crown of her head to the cut-steel buckles on her slim satin slippers to see that money had done everything for her that money can do—and there is little that money cannot do. Merry felt shabby and second- rate as she looked at Muriel's sim- ple white chiffon dress with its narrow silver girdle and the silver necklace that circled her sotf, slender neck. “I'm prettier than shell ever be,” thought, “but she has the clothes. Nobody would look at me when she's around!” As it to prove it, Bill Erskine suddenly pushed his way through the crowd of dancers in the room and stopped before Muriel. “Dance?” he asked her, breath, He had just been dancing, and his forehead was glistening with beads of perspiration. His collar was wilted a little, too. But his smile was just as fresh as ever, as he bent over to Muriel. She shook her dainty little head. “No thanks, Bill,” she said, mak- ing room for him on the flowered sofa, “but you can sit here, next to me.” She stretched out one of her lovely hands to lift a glass of egg- nog from the big silver tray that Cassle's mald was passing. Merry took one, too. But Bill did not seem to notice that. He was frowning down at Mur- as she raised the egg-nog to scarlet lips. “Do you know that stuff whiskey in it?” he asked sternly. out of jel he has her (TO BE CONTINUED) FASHIONS By Sally Milgrim In Paris one sees three disti types of evening gowns—the pe fectly plain chiffon frock, the ch fon dress trimmed with sparkli embroidery or delicate bead moti and the elaborately beaded gown satin or crepe. For informal gat erings the plain frock which rel for its interest on ingenious drape is preferred; but if the occasion in any way important, a more el orate type of dress is worn. Sketched today is a charml and very youthful evening mode] an ideal frock for mid-sumnj dances. It is white chiffon, acce} ed with brilliant silver bugles flues of pale green ostrich. Added| this decorative trimming is a you fub and flattering silhouette as skirt 1s a mass of circular fold® & an alry cape-like drapery flies g from one shoulder. The godets on the skirt are s arated by slender strands of-aj green ostrich. The shimme: trimming, in a delicate design drops, 18 used with restraint on bodice and in cascade effect on front panel of the skirt. Gleaming bugles and flues of green ostrich trim the flutter] She widened her lustrous at him and laughed. 5 “Why of course there's whiskey eyes skirt of this white chiffon frock,