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Show W Mrs. Harry puh Smith .W Chapter XII Synopsis Since her husband's denth, Anne Phillips has worked to support her children. She is disturbed now because Jim, her son, has become be-come engaged to rich Helen Sanders. San-ders. Anne susiects Cathy, widowed widow-ed little dancer, is in love with ,11m. Berenice, Anne's older daughter, is miserable because her husband, Bill Carter, has left her. Janet, the younger daughter, hns just become engaged on trial to Tony Ryan rich young man who was born in Shanty Town and who has bonght and restored, with Janet's help, the old Phillips estate. es-tate. Helen Sanders and Jim are having lunch with Helen's father. Helen has just told Jim thnt he can't go back to his office. o . Jim caught Mr. Sanders' eyes. "Might as well give in, youngfel-ler," youngfel-ler," he remarked dryly. "But " began Jim. "You don't really want to leave me, do you, darling?" cooed Helen, nibbling at his ear. "No-er-of course not," stammered stam-mered Jim, wishing she would restrain re-strain her affectionate gesture to a private audition. In the end Jim telephoned the office and in a not very happy voice informed Judge Hetchcote that he would not be back that afternoon. Helen had been tickling the back of Jim's neck with tiny moist kisses whille he was telephoning. When he hung up the receiver she pulled him down upon a love seat by the window and cuddled into his arms. Jim cast an anguished glance at the open door into the other sitting room where her father was striding up and down chewing savagely on an unllghted cigar while he dictated to his secretary. Bell boys ran in and out with more telegrams. The telephone rang constantly. Mr. Sanders called his New York office, an oil field in Texas, and once tie talked to his London agency as casually as Jim would have telephoned to the nearest town. Mr. Sanders sent downstairs to the bar for Manhattans. Helen insisted in-sisted on being fed her cocktail by spoonfuls. The waiter acted as if he were blind, deaf and dumb, but Jim felt as if his face were a three-alarm fire. "Darling," murmured Helen, "You must get used to having no privacy. The rich don't." "I'm not rich," said Jim. She snuggled against him. "You're marrying me. Father's going to make you vice president of something," she cried in a beatific voice. "But " he began again, only Helen interrupted. She was gently nuzzling his Adam's apple which made it difficult diffi-cult for him to speak. "I've g-got a j-job," protested Jim. "Darling, I could never live in this dull little town," said Miss Helen Sanders. "I can't wait to take you to Father's tailor," she went on dreamily. "You'll need gangs of clothes, evening and sport togs, and a valet to keep them straight." It was a relief when his fiancee jumped up at five and gave him an affectionate little shove toward the door. "I must dress and it takes me hours," she said. Mr. Sanders appeared in the doorway. "Bring your mother and sister to dinner tonight, Phillips," he said genially. "And any one else you like. Dinner at eight, you know." Jim's mother and Janet were at home when he came in, sitting rather forlornly, it seemed to Jim, in the kitchen. "Aren't you early, darling?" faltered Anne. Her eyes looked red. Jim felt conscious-stricken. "We're all invited in-vited to dinner with Mr. Sanders. At eight," he added, "and I'm starved, darn it!" "We're going to be married right away," he explained stiffly. "I'm to be vice president of something. some-thing. You know, with a handsome hand-some salary and no work to do. It's going to be geo-orgeous." He made a grimace. Anne was very white. "But Jim, your job with Judge Hetchcote!" "She can't live in this poky town." There was a painful silence. "I can't go to the dinner party," said Janet shortly. "I've a date with Tony Ryan." " 'S all right about Tony," said Jim gruffly. "I was told to bring along any one I liked." "He's all in the family anyway," any-way," remarked Janet with a flippant flip-pant smile. "I mean we're engaged." en-gaged." Anne uttered a startled exclamation. excla-mation. "Engaged!" "He needs a hostess, I need the money, we've each been turned down by the other fellow, selah!" said Janet shrugging her shoulders. should-ers. Anne's cheeks were fiery red. "You aren't in love with each other?" "Love!" cried Janet in a jeering jeer-ing voice. "It hasn't been mentioned. men-tioned. I don't believe it's ever going to be." Anne was on her feet, the skin over her nuckles white where she was holding onto the back of a straight kitchen chair. "So I've failed," she said in a voice neither of them had heard from her before. Jim wiggled to his feet. "Gee, Mums, I'm sorry." Anne looked him up and down disdainfully. "My son is going to be a rich woman's kept husband! , He loathes society. He owes it to Judge Hetchcote to make good. But now he's turning his back on everything he ever stood for to be i a lap dog." "Mother!" cried Janet, shocked shock-ed at the look on Jim's face. Anne turned and this time it was Janet who was slowly and disdainfully dis-dainfully looked up and down. "My daughter hasn't the courage to live life as a gay and gallant adventure as it's meant to be lived," liv-ed," said Anne. She prefers to take the easy way out and become a wisecracking little gold-digger." "Oh, Mother!" whispered Janet. "Heavens knows where., except for Bill, my other daughter would have landed," said Anne. Janet felt stricken, but she pas glad she had not told about Bill. Mr. Clive Sanders elected to entertain en-tertain his party for dinner that night in the main dinning room of the hotel. There were elaborate hothouse flowers for a centerpiece and every variety of costly delicacy. del-icacy. Jim could not bear to look at the check, but every one saw the ten-dollar tip which the multimillionaire multi-millionaire left beside his plate. There was only one awkward moment, precipitated by Helen. "It's so funny to think of my mother-in-law clerking in a store," she observed. Anne saw Jim stiffen as if he had been shot in the back. "I mean," Helen explained( "one knows sales-women must have private lives like everyone else, only one never realizes it, does one?" It was Tony Ryan who leaned a little forward and lazily put a period to Helen's remark. "One wonders," he drawled, imitating perfectly the cool and condescending condescend-ing tones of her honeyed voice, "how one ever manages to breathe the common air when one's so la-di-da." Helen knitted her brows and stared at him. "Are you by any chance taking a crack at me, Mr. Ex-Prizefighter?" "What do you think?" murmured murmur-ed Tony. Mr. Sanders, aware of the signs of a tempest beginning to form about his daughter's expuisite brow, interposed with haste. "What shall we do with the rest of the evening?" he asked awkwardly. awk-wardly. "I want to go somewhere and dance," said Helen in a fretful manner. "I think mixed parties are a frightful bore." She reached over and pulled Jim closer. "Darling, "Dar-ling, take me where we can waltz in each other's arms and forget other people. They seem so unnecessary." un-necessary." They went in the end to "The Golden' Pheasant," because it was the only reputable night club in town. There were cheap road-houses, road-houses, but nothing to compare to the rococo blue and gilt of "The Golden Pheasant." Jim's arms felt peculiarly leaden lead-en when he took Helen into them. He could never remember a day which had left him so exhausted, both physically and mentally. He was as tired as if he had been dragged through one knothole after af-ter another when they danced off. "Sorry," he said miserably, "I'm afraid I stepped on your toe." "You did!'' snapped Miss Helen Sanders. "I'm getting a headache," she said crossly, "and it's all your fault, you and your poor relations." rela-tions." Jim was very white. "Let me give you a warning. You can call me names, but don't make the error er-ror again of sneering at my mother." mo-ther." Something in Jim's face brought her up. "Darling," she cried, catching her breath, "we are actually ac-tually quarreling, and we musn't." She leaned nearer and put up her enchanting mouth. "Let's kiss and make up." "Till the next time," said Jim sharply. He did not kiss her. Somewhere during the preceding ten hours all the ecstasy had gone out of Miss Helen Sanders' kisses so far as Jim was concerned, leaving only the torment. "Here comes Cathy!" cried Janet excitedly. "Doesn't she look lovely?" Jim twisted about in his chair. Cathy was doing her solo specialty. special-ty. It was a military routine. She had on brief blue satin trunks and a full white blouse with long graceful sleeves gathered in at her slender wrists. She was wearing a tiny glided trench hat jauntily perched on the side of her shingled shin-gled blond head, and small gilded leather boots that wrinkled down around her ankles. |