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Show ' rnPYRIGHT, KATHLEE.N NORRIS W.NI.U. SERVICE 30a SYNOPSIS it's , ' Antoinette Taft, twenty-three, at-1 at-1 a', tractive and ambitious but unable to ., id a Job, Uvea in a drab San Fran-K Fran-K Jl.co fiat with her sister Brenda and 'at :rother Cll, who are older, her Seville Sev-ille j !teen-year-old brother Bruce, and OuSkI Aunt Mee. In her job hunting ' rounds she interviews Lawrence Bel-j.my Bel-j.my editor of the Journal of Com-leen Com-leen " 'j but finds he has no place for SO1-'- .woman writer. She likes him very ch as she tells Brenda later. Dlf-, Dlf-, jaent Barney Kerr drops In. Barney has his eye on Tony, but she de-?. de-?. .Dises him. Tony gets a telephone m.- call from Mr. Greenwood, city edi-, edi-, tor of the Call, offering her a Job as jociety reporter. Cliff, returning just then, accompanies Tony to the !, tb: newspaper office. Tony finds the re- men in the office friendly and help-i. help-i. (ul The first night she goes with ' Cliil and Joe Burke of the sports an: department to a restaurant and sees pro:: Bellamy. She thrills when he nods to her. She is thoroughly happy In the hustle and bustle of the newspaper news-paper office. She manages to solve Boom the problem of getting photographs. ' The only other woman on the staff aDd- fl Bess Cutter, who does a column ally and is very friendly with Fitch, gen-nmr,--ral manager. Bess comes to depend : on Tony. Bess invites Tony to dine with her at her apartment with 'se : Fitch and then go to, the theater. ft Barney proposes to Tony and is re-i..., re-i..., jected. Tony attends the Cutter affair af-fair and Is displeased. She is as-' as-' signed to cover the mid-winter oar-tival oar-tival at Piedmont She meets elder-v elder-v !y Mrs. Patterson and her daughter Cj;Ruth, wife of Larry Bellamy. Euth i a Irji in poor health. The ir . y t!- CHAPTER VIII Continued 6 tbii Immediately there stepped In In'ttifrom the hallway the most stunning twi-Sgure of a man Tony had ever n hfiseen: a tall man, splendidly made, his height and figure and handsome face set off by the dashing cos- nerl fume and the ribboned peruke of the Revolutionary period. He wore ' ' c a magnificent skirted coat of black . ' brocade heavily embroidered in sil-f sil-f a r ''ver and steel, a waistcoat gay In 'n c dowers, plum-colored, knee-breeches ly Snd silk stockings, buckled high-heeled high-heeled shoes. At his throat and 3t be !wrists were frills of fine lace; in icaua bis hand he carried a plumed tl P cocked hat. She knew him: It was r of :Lawrence Bellamy, buries: "Larry, you are marvelous!" said s, yos hist wife. ct rt "Oh, bravo," said Mrs. Peterson, r tlffi "Come over here and meet Miss and -Taft, dear." bin? "Oh, Lord, I didn't know anyone was with you!" Benedict Arnold ; to t- ejaculated. "Oh, say" he stam-any: stam-any: mered, Tony's hand in his, "well, j l! hello I didn't place you 1 You and it m;:I where have you and I talked to igh l'ach other before?" t an' "In your office. Months ago." r, si? "Oh, sure, sure I" His face was ont; brightening. "You were coming ;al;s :back; you didn't come back?" i,J' "No. I got a Job on the Call funny- that very day, I think. Society ed-y ed-y co: ltor." 3 hi! "Good work !" he said heartily. "Of course, I see It all, now. You've come over to do the High Jinks at the club." "And I've Just placed you," Tony '. ealJ smiling. "I've been talking n to your wife and Mrs. Patterson " bere without ever thinking that ,erJ tlle name was the same." 'rare' ; "Well this Is pleasant "No, no T(- tea. I'm going upstairs and get mm!' Wi ot tnls stuff: 1 3"st trlel on t0 se" If it would fit and you all " t. wouldn't think I looked like a per-a';. per-a';. fect to0'." said Lawrence Bellamy, 1 8 he stooped to kiss his wife's pale r ' u then 111 Set myself some- thing in the pantry, and then I'll Join you indies. What d'you think " 6 "Ht, Ruth?" 't Is simply stunning." Iy , ' "Thls 's one of the costumes from leni) Arllss's 'Alexander Hamilton,' " the 'SI ! r "Plained to Tony. "I was :ukuvn there In Hollywood a few d W; eeks ago and I borrowed this for W me and a dandy for Ruth." 'rs !. 'And what do you go as, Mrs. ini Patterson?" Tony smiled at the el-roiw. el-roiw. derly woman. llnfl'; "For many years now," Mrs. Pat-lsl Pat-lsl "son s:lid firmIyi .Tve worn a "ce dress and put a mantilla on Sys"'vy ul nnd 8 rse in mv hair. tli ' r fou'"e' Rnd thank God I can niitl"1 ?r my owu shoes and stays!" ' . Antl .vni're going tonight, Ruth?" 'w a,:;',renoe 1, from the door.' , nil" t,o 8 While' I-arry for the din-1 din-1 1 v. n anyway." bfflurJ !A,h- you're a sport !" he said. o'for a? he came baok they talktH5 fl,; f fif,tocn animated minutes be-if;' be-if;' f t "ly rlls,lpl tipstairs to get be'ted work, and she felt fib- Z i ? ,he flreSht. with Uteir ap-.. ap-.. ' , , tlve e-vM "Hon her, that she S Muni", h6r best: what sl,e Eald " and amusing, even 'I! U to hi' and when s" sot upstairs ! h If fn r0,m nntl '0ked Rt 6hft , the mlrror' she thought C T h klid her Prettlt, too. 'lc; ln guest room was as beauti- fully appointed as was the rest of the house. There was a small flat typewriter awaiting her on the gray-and-blue desk, and Tony settled set-tled down at once to work. When that was done she could study at her leisure the blue-and-gray carpet, car-pet, and the gray-and-blue curtains with a touch of pale apple blossom pink for relief here and there; the apple blossom bed, with a satin comforter of powder-blue faced with gray. She took a luxurious bath, creamed her skin and brushed her hair, finally put on her wrapper and lay down, pulling the satin quilt up over her. Tony was half asleep when there was a tap at her door. "Come in!" she said, rousing. It was Ruth Bellamy who came in, hesitantly, with a somewhat doubtful doubt-ful smile on her face. "It's after half-past seven, and you asked to be reminded?" "Oh, yes. Oh, come in, Mrs. Bellamy! Bel-lamy! I believe I was dozing." Ruth came In and sat on the bed. "I had the most delicious bath, and then all these books, and I think I was nearly asleep. Oh, how wonderful won-derful your hair is!" "My wig?" Mrs. Bellamy's face had been artfully rouged and painted paint-ed ; with the silver curls above It, and the earrings of brilliants quivering quiv-ering when she moved her head, she looked ten years younger fifteen years younger than the woman Tony had met downstairs a few hours ago. "Ridiculous what they can do!" she smiled deprecatingly. "It's very becoming !" "It's too becoming. I don't look this way any more," the other wom an saiu, sxiaKing uer neaa. &ui this is what I came in about," she went on: "Mother and I were saying say-ing that that since you're young, and this is a dance, would you like us to hunt you up a costume?" Tony pointed, and Ruth turned her head to see the gay full skirt of the Portuguese costume, the embroidered em-broidered blouse and bright headdress head-dress dangling on hangers at the dressing table. "It's the real thing; my brother had a friend who had to go to Rio," Tony explained, as the other woman admired It. "And he brought It home for Brenda. But It was always al-ways miles too big for Brenda, so I wear It." Tony put her feet on the floor, went to the dressing table, and picked up a brush. She looked at her hostess In the mirror. "You're not going to have much fun, are you?" she asked soberly, in sudden understanding. Mrs. Bellamy, lingering, seated herself beside the almost dead fire. "No," she answered, smiling nervously, nerv-ously, and yet, Tony saw, glad to talk too. "You're a good sport!" Tony smilingly repeated the husband's phrase. "I try to be." "Was the little boy was Peter-sick Peter-sick very long?" Tony was standing stand-ing opposite her hostess now, brushing her thick dark hair. "He was killed." "Ah-h-h !" "He was at a friend's house, playing play-ing with little Dick Sykes. They were at the garage " "Terrible for you!' "It was terrible for my husband, too. We never talk of Peter." "Pprhans." Tonv said timidly. "It would be better If you did." "Peter was the only one. You see, I was thirty-three and Larry only twenty-one when we married," Mrs. Bellamy said suddenly. "You look twenty-one tonight," Tony commented readily. The older woman got to her feet, laid a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Come and see me again," she said wistfully, shyly. "When you are over on this side of the bay, or any time, I'd be so glad of It I've been living very quietly too quietly." "I will I" Tony promised, touched. But as she got herself Into the becoming be-coming stripes and colors, she wondered won-dered if she would. Life was brimful brim-ful without the Bellamys! CHAPTER IX TWO weeks later the Bellamys came over to the city for a few weeks to stay at the Fairmont hotel, and Tony was almost Immediately asked by her new friend to come up and have tea with her. She had a thoroughly pleasant hour with the mother and daughter, enjoying the luxury of the big corner suite, and the hot tea, and the sense that she was liked and admired. After that she went In two or three times a week. Once Brenda went with her, and Ruth and Mrs. Patterson liked Brenda, too; they both made It a point to go Into Younger's and buy books from Tony's charming sister. sis-ter. And at Christmas time Tony had beautiful presents. The Bellamys, remembering happier hap-pier Cliristmases that a noisy little boy had made complete, went to Havana. But they left their gifts behind them; there were flowers for Aunt Meggy, there was a lovely scarf for Brenda, and for Tony herself her-self there were frail delicate under-things under-things from Ruth, a book from Larry, Lar-ry, and a handsome coat from "her attached old friend Harriet Patterson." Patter-son." She went up to thank them as soon as they came back, and found Ruth alone. It was a dark, foggy January afternoon, and Tony was glad to get warm and to give all her Christmas news over her teacup, and get all of Ruth's In return. Ruth looked better than Tony had ever seen her; she had a good color, and seemed In fine spirits, and she quite simply laid some of the Improvements Im-provements to Tony herself. "You've been extremely good for me, my dear. Both Mother and Larry Lar-ry see It. A daughter couldn't have been sweeter." - 'Tve done nothing ; you make me ashamed !" Tony protested. "I'm fond of you. I don't get fond of many persons," Ruth said with her pathetic smile. Lawrence Bellamy was not always al-ways at the hotel for the tea parties that his wife so much enjoyed, but he came in once or twice, and was always glad to find Tony there. Sometimes they discussed the personnel per-sonnel of the Call office; he knew all the Important men there, and was Inexhaustibly Interested In what went on. "Boo, that horrible Fitch! He came to dinner one night I hate him!" Ruth said. "Do you know him, Tony?" ' "Oh, yes." She smiled dreamily. "And Bessie Cutter, too," she said. "I suppose every one in the office of-fice Is on to that," Ruth observed. "She did a column called 'Bessie Saw It,' for a while. Now they say she's going to do some work for the Sunday Issue." "Can she do anything?' "Not really. She's been tried out almost everywhere." Tony had a moment of pity for Bessie. Not tun 71 IIP Creamed Her Skin and Brushed Her Hair. much fun ahead of her. Every one said that Frank Fitch was cooling. She could sell her diamonds, maybe." "The Fitches came to our house for dinner one night," Ruth said. "And she's a sweet little thing." When Larry went to dress for some business dinner, Ruth said thoughtfully: "One wonders that Larry doesn't see some attractive woman; they all like him ! And after all, I'm twelve years older than he Is." Tony had not known them very long before she had heard and divined di-vined much of the story of Ruth's life. Ruth had been an heiress; her Patterson grandfather had been a banker, a financial genius, one of the big figures In New York Immediately Imme-diately after the close of the Civil war, and he had left her, or rather had left his son, Ruth's father, a considerable fortune. In the Piedmont Pied-mont house, which Tony gathered belonged to Mrs. Patterson, were paintings of Ruth as a little girl of ten, and one of her with her horse; photographs of Ruth in a school graduation dress, in a ball gown, on shipboard, at the Deauvllle races. Tony gathered that the thing lacking lack-ing to Ruth In those years had been normal companionship with her own kind; any Interested young mim had been naturally considered a fortune for-tune hunter. She had not married. Then, when Ruth had been thirty, a New York financial paper had wanted to see Grandfather Patterson's Patter-son's letters and diaries, to use in a series of articles about the New York of his time, and the promising promis-ing young Journalist, little more than a year out of Harvard, who had been sent out to Patterson manor farm on Long Island had been Lawrence Bellamy. Lawrence had been young and gay; Ruth impressive im-pressive In her wealth and position at thirty-one. He had Imagined that many suitors were interested; presently pres-ently he had found himself Installed as the only one. her squire when she went into town to tlie opera, and Incidentally to the Patterson box; her authority on the problems presented by managing the manor farm ; there were splendid dairies, calves, bulls, stallions, hunters, and racers. Lawrence grew interested. They were married, and Ruth had a few years of flawless happiness, had a small square sou to stamp about "Merrivnle Hills," could drive about to other estates like theirs, and show other women how fortunate for-tunate she was. Lawrence had continued in newspaper news-paper work, refusing to give up the career that interested him to become be-come a rich woman's husband, and as his star had begun to rise, somehow some-how Tony sensed Ruth's had begun be-gun to fall. First there had been money loss, a great deal of It, and the sale of Merrivale Hills; and then failing health. Through them Ruth had clung all the more tenaciously tena-ciously to her wonderful husband and son. Then had come the San Francisco venture, and the beautiful beauti-ful house in Piedmont, with Lawrence Law-rence growing handsomer and clev-ered clev-ered and more successful every day, and the Journal promising to be a success. Ruth had been forty-two then, to his eager, vital thirty. But nothing had been really disturbing, dis-turbing, nothing had forced upon her the realization of their changing positions until little Peter's death. That had brought her house of cards down about her ears with a shattering crash ; there could be no more Illusions, no more hopes. She had sunk, within a few short weeks, Into the shrinking, nervous condition condi-tion in which Tony first had seen her. She had felt herself the elderly, elder-ly, childless wife of a rising and brilliant man, and not all his kindly kind-ly matter-of-fact affection, and not all her mother's anxious spoiling and loving could seem to save her. "Happiness Is absolutely relative, Bendy," the more thoughtful Tony once said to her sister. "I see It more and more every day. There's no use trying to estimate whether persons are happy or not ; you can't tell until you know what they're comparing It to. Ruth has so much less than she used to have that she's almost In melancholia. We have so much more than we ever thought we'd have that we can hardly keep our feet on the ground. And yet even now we haven't one-tenth one-tenth I mean in actual Income and position and possessions of what the Bellamys have." "Poor thing!" It's the little boy's death, I suppose. She can't forget It." "And feeling so much older than he. If she were thirty-two Instead of forty-two I suppose there might be another child ; as it Is I don't think there's any hope of It" "He's how old?" "About thirty-one or -two, I think." "Ten years. You three run In neat decades," said Brenda. "That's true. Good gracious, is she twenty years older than I am !" Tony murmured, under her breath. "You really like her, don't you?" Brenda questioned, In the tone of one thinking aloud. "I like her liking me," Tony answered, an-swered, after a moment's thought, in honesty that surprised even herself. her-self. "I don't mean that!" she said laughing. "I do like her you have to like Ruth, she's so generous and kind and all that But of course she's not the personality that Larry Is." "Oh, Tony, you're so beautiful, so firm and young and glowing and happy have mercy on her !" Brenda thought But aloud she dared say nothing. She could only console herself with the prayer that It was purely her Imagination that of late Tony was quoting Larry Bellamy Bell-amy with a new significance: that Larry was managing to be at home when Tony was there. The Bellamys rented an apartment apart-ment In the smartest of the California Cali-fornia street places ; a roof apartment apart-ment with a wonderful view of the city, and determined to remain in San Francisco. On a certain rainy March afternoon, after-noon, with the freedom of a favored fa-vored friend, she went up there unannounced, un-announced, gave Chevalier her wet mackintosh and dripping umbrella, and entered the living room to find a fire blazing and Lawrence reading read-ing galley proofs In a deep chair beside It "Oh, delicious fire I'm freezing!" freez-ing!" Tony exclaimed Joyfully "Hello, Larry. Cold?" "No-o-o. I had some work to do, and I thought I might as well do It here." "Ruth?" "At a bridge lunch somewhere. She'll be In. She said to be sure to keep you If you came In." "Oh-h-h-h !" Tony shuddered lux-' urlously. "I'm on a story, but the woman is right up the street here at the Fairmont, and she won't be home until six." "Then you're here until six?" Larry said, with a glance at the clock. "The truth Is," Tony said, her cheeks bright from the windy climb up the hill, "the truth is, I'm glad to see you alone for a minute, for I'm in a ticrht corner." (TO BE COTIUED) |
