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Show A Very Demure Young Lady By LAWRENCE ALFRED CLAY Copnuht, xgii, by A&socialod Luer&ry Press It was a matter of wonder that such an ambitious, aggressive mother as Mrs. Kent should have such a demure de-mure daughter as Estelle. Yea, the mother was very aggressive, and the daughter was very, very demure. That was an opposite other mothers could not help but remark. At seventeen Miss Estelle was sent to Vassar. She might have preferred another school, but her mother said i Vassar, and that settled that. Mrs. Kent was a widow with an Income none too large, but she had plans and schemes far ahead. i At eighteen and nineteen Miss Es telle was still acquiring knowledge, but at twenty she had finished. She bad had vacations, of course, and there had been no change in her de-mureness. de-mureness. She was given three or four days in which to draw her breath arter getting home for good, and then her mother called her to her side and said: "Estelle, you are now twenty years old." "Yes, mamma." "You should be thinking ot matrimony." matri-mony." I "I am, mamma." "You have a handsome face and a good education, and you ought to marry well." "So I should mamma." "But the trouble Is," continued the mother, "that there are no eligible young men around here. That Is, none who could support you In the style you deserve." "Not one, mamma." "But there is a gentleman, after all a middle-aged gentleman a man of wealth who has been attracted to you. He has seen you on various occasions during your vacations, anu has become smitten. He was here the other day to ask the privilege of calling on you." "Yes, mamma." "And I granted it. Estelle, you' at least know of Mr. Henderson the gentleman who owns the Golden Brewery?" "Yes, mamma." "I have heard It said that he Is all of forty-eight years old, and dyes his whiskers. Those Innuendoes are always al-ways thrown, out against the rich. He is a fat man and baldheaded, but "Estelle, Isn't He Just Splendid?" you don't think that counts against him, do you?" "Of course not, mamma." "Fat can be reduced and bald heads covered with wigs. Mr. Henderson may not be as well educated as some, but he's a thorough business man. I thought you might be prejudiced against him because he Is a brewer." "Oh, no, mamma." . "Of course he doesn't rinse out the kegs and bottles and refill them again, nor does he drive one of his wagons. He stays in the office and counts the cash. "Yes, mamma." was the same demure de-mure and dutiful reply. "Mr. Henderson will probably call within a day or two. He has purchased pur-chased a beautiful auto, and as soon as he can find a chauffeur to run it we are to go for a ride. I knew you would think as I do about this matter, mat-ter, but Btill I want to praise you for your good common sense." "Thanks, mamma," Mrs. Kent smiled with satisfaction. She hugged herself In her complacency compla-cency She believed the match as good as made. Within a radius of ten miles of her were a hundred other mothers who could have told her that it wag the demure young lady to have an eye on, but the caution cau-tion would have done no good. That same evening a letter ,was mailed to somebody up the state which contained con-tained the following sentence: "Come at once and hire to him as a chauffeur. You know how to run an auto. We'll plan the rest after you get here." Miss Demure was planning a lit. tie scheme. It was "yes, mamma," to everything, and mamma thought a girl twenty years old . Mr. Henderson called. Yes, he wa I short and fat and pudgy. He wore a wig and looked his age, no matter what it was. No. he was not an educated edu-cated man. He was just a millionaire, with a loving heart, and when hej made this announcement he laid hla hand on his right side, as if bis heart had moved over. He had hired a chauffeur that day, and could Invite, mother and daughter to go out for a spin with him on the next. Tha chauffeur was fine-looking and would be a man to do credit to him. After his call had lasted an hour, and the brewer who didn't rinse his own bottles bot-tles had rendered himself as agreeable agree-able as ne could, he bowed himself out, and the mother turned to the daughter with: "Estelle, isn't he just oplendld?" "He Is, mamma," was the replT-"Can replT-"Can you find anything to criticise?" criti-cise?" "Not a thing, mamma." "Then let me give you a motherly kiss." And Just one hour after that motherly moth-erly kiss had been implanted on her demure cheek Miss Estelle was walking walk-ing and talking with the brewer's town library! They talked about something that both smiled and giggled gig-gled over, and the dev.vitful young lady almost whistled the Sr of a topical song as she made her way homeward. The "spin" was taken next arter-noon. arter-noon. Truly, it was a fine auto, and truly it was a distinguished looking chauffeur. The ladles occupied the tonneau and the brewer sat beside the driver that he might show off his fat back and red neck. Ten twenty thirty miles an hour, and then -a stop! The auto had gone dead. That was the way with all new autos, the chauffeur said. The bobcrank got foul of the jim crov, or some such thing, and the matter was easily remedied. All four persons got out. Mrs. Kent and Mr. Henderson sauntered up the road a bit, and Miss Estelle, the demure, sauntered down, while the chauffeur crawled under the machine ma-chine to beg of the bobcrank to behave be-have itself. "Ah, but she's a sweet girl!" whispered whis-pered the brewer in the ear of the widow. "She surely 13." "I quite flatter myself that Bhe has taken a liking to me at first sight." "It surely looks that way." "You are my friend. Have you spoken to her?" "Most certainly." "Many, many thanks. In case she makes me the happiest man on earth" Both happened to glance down the road at this instant, and both saw that the auto had disappeared. They ran to the first turn In the highway no auto! "Oh, what can have happened!" exclaimed the widow. "I know I know!" shouted tha . ,i,TiKftTT Vi o tti nlrrr1 Nnthine urcwei. iutj . , ailed that bobcrank. It was a put-up put-up job. He is her lover!" "Oh, no, no, no! It can't be!" "But I say It is! The demure little lit-tle cat has made a fool of me! I see It all I see It all! By thunder" "Sir! Don't you swear In my presence!" pres-ence!" warned the widow. "Yes, she's a cat, and I believe you are either a scheming woman or or " "You fat, bald-headed vulgarian, how dare you!" It was three miles back to a farmhouse farm-house where the widow could hire a conveyance to take her home. That night at ten o'clock, when the demure Estelle brought her new-made new-made husband back and Introduced him, the widow almost hugged him as she exclaimed: "I'm glad of It! That keg washer of a brewer called me a dodo and my darling a a cat!" |