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Show ti 7 The Married Life of Helen and Warren I, By MABEL HERBERT URNER Originator of "Their Married Life." Author of 'The Journal of a Neglected Wife," "The Woman Alone," etc. Helen by a Subterfuge Wins Her Point and Avoids a Quarrel With Warren I11 "1 (Copyright, 1316, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate. It was a faint, furtive knock the knock of the maid from across the - ) f nail. Emma cioseu the lcubox noisily and pretended not to hear. "Isn't that someone some-one at the door?'' Helen was dropping drop-ping the mayonnaise mayon-naise from the fork to test its smoothness. "No, ma'am, I guess it's the wind," as she opened the door and evidently signaled sig-naled the girl to go away. For a second Helen was tempt- Mabel Herbert , Urner. "Then she'll have to lie down. She'll in no condition to serve dinner. We'll take the Steveuses out." "Oh, dear, that isn't necessary. Emma has it all ready; we can serve it ourselves. There they are now!" as the bell rang. "You stay here with her. I'll go," and Warren strode to the door Mrs. Stevens in any emergency was always most capable, and now she came hurrying out, anxious to help. "What're you using cold cream? I think olive oil's much better." Helen brought the oil, and Mrs. Stevens, ripping off her long, white gloves, rubbed it gently over Emma's soot-smeared iace. Because of her aversion for the girl, and the feeling that she w-as not over-clean, over-clean, Helen had shrunk from touching touch-ing her. And now with a tinge of compunction, she watched Mrs. Stevens' unconscious Solicitude. "If you'll give me a brush, I'll brush out this singed hair." Under Mrs. Stevens' kindliness and tact, Emma was fast recovering from the shock. Her hair brushed, they persuaded her to lie down. In the bathroom, Helen gave Mrs. Stevens a hand-brush and a fresh cake of guest soap. But, lacking the oversqueamishness that was with Helen almost an affliction, she merely rinsed her hands under the faucet. "How is she?" asked Warren. "How about our dinner?" "Nonsense!" laughed Mrs. Stevens. "You and Henry stay there we'll serve the dinner in no time." They found the kitchen freezingly cold from the open window, but the smoke had all blown out. Except for broiling the chicken and the sauce for the cauliflower, everything was ready. In less than half an hour they had dinner on the table. "Wonder there's not more accidents acci-dents with these gas stoves?" commented com-mented Mrs. Stevens as they sat down. "Lucky it didn't burn her face." "She must have turned on the oven before she lit the match," frowned Warren. "Mighty dangerous thing to' do." "I've warned her about that repeatedly." repeat-edly." Helen was serving the soup. "But her mind's not on her work she's thinking of those elevator boys." "I don't quite like her eyes," mused Mrs. Stevens, taking off one of Emma's Em-ma's aprons. "She doesn't look straight at you." "That's part of her furtiveness. Oh, she's the slyest thing! I never know when she's telling the truth and she's dishonest, too! When her month's up, I'll have to let her " "You can't let her go now," broke in Warren. "Can't discharge a girl right on top of an accident like that." "But, dear, I've already told her. She expects to go on the 20th." "Don't care what you told her we're going to keep her another two weeks." "Then we'll have trouble with the Gordons. She simply lives in their kitchen I can't keep her out. I know Mrs. Gordon's going to complain about it. I'd rather pay her for an extra half month and let her go." "Well, we'll not pay for any two maids that's sure. Lucky if we can pay the rent this year." Perhaps it was Mrs. Stevens' presence pres-ence that gave Helen unwarranted courage, for she answered with a show of firmness: "Then I'll pay her for the two weeks and do the work myself." "You'll do nothing of the sort! The girl'll stay right here and do the work until she's in shape to take another an-other job." Then with a shrug he turned to Mrs. Stevens. "Now you see a sample of Helen's obstinacy.'' "It's not obstinacy," hotly. "It's simply that Emmas so dishonest we shouldn't keep her. At first she took only my perfumery and a few ribbons, rib-bons, but yesterday I found one of your ties" "What's that?" brusquely. "One of my ties?" "It was under the paper in her bottom bot-tom drawer." "The deuce it was! A good tie?" "One of those silk poplins you got in London. I suppose she wanted it for the elevator boy." "See here, this won't do! We'll not stand for that not by a long shot, i Why, you can't get those poplin tics in this country! When's her month up the 20th?' Well, she d.-n't stay a day longer! And you see that my room's kept locked until she goes." With deepening color Helen averted avert-ed her eyes to the bread she was I crumb'.iug by her plate. Her finesse was successful. She had avoided a further quarrel before the Steveuses I and had won her point as to when Emma should go. That it had been a lace collar of ; hers and not a tie of Warren's did i not disturb her. Emma's dishonesty was the same. And Warren would have only sniffed at the purloining of her "fripperies," while he took mot seriously the appropriation of any of his own. ed to rush to the door, fling it open and confront Emma with her lie. But with the St.evenses coming to dinner, it was not an opportune time for a scene. Besides, Emma's month was up the 20th, and Helen had already told her to look for another place. She could not longer put up with her untruthfulness, her furtiveness and her Intimacy with the Gordons' maid. The mayonnaise, beaten to a creamy smoothness, Helen now put in the ice; gave a few adjusting touches to the sideboard and table, and went in to dress. Knowing it would take several weeks to break in a new girl, she was having the Stevenses before Emma left. She had taken down her hair when she thought of the egg for the salad. Last time it had not been hard enough the yolk was gluey. "Emma!" running back to the kitchen, but the only answering sound was the gurgle of the boiling potatoes. Emma was not there! Was she over with the Gordons' maid again? Helen opened the door and rang furiously their kitchen bell, which could be heard across the hall. "Emma," as the girl came sheepishly sheep-ishly out, "can't you stay in your own kitchen long enough to get dinner?" din-ner?" "I lust wanted to take back a lemon lem-on I borrowed," with evasive eyes. "How many times have I told you not to fcorrow of the Gordons? When did you need a lemon? We always have lemons." "Oh, It was last week, when when we had that salmon. Emma's glib lies were ever ready. With an effort Helen let this one pass, told her curtly about the egg, and went hack to her room. Sitting on the floor to put on her slippers, she was startled by an explosion ex-plosion that sounded alarmingly near. But, as no commotion followed, she decided it was a bursting tire in the street below. A few moments later the doorbell rang. It couldn not be the Stevenses it was only half-past six! Even Warren had not come yet. Again the bell, a clamorous peal. Where was Emma? Why did she not answer It? Had she dared to go over to the Gordons' again? Throwing on a kimono, Helen ran out to the hall. The Stevenses would not ring like that! Standing back of the door, she opened It a few Inches. A glimpse of Emma's white apron nhe had locked herself out! Helen, furious, flung wide the door. Then she saw that something had happened. There stood the Gordons' Gor-dons' maid, whit as chalk. Emma, her face covered with her hands, was leaning tremblingly against the wall. "Oh oh, the oven!" she sobbed. "It It exploded!" That was what she had heard! Hulen flew out to the kitchen, expecting ex-pecting to see It in flames, but there was only a dense smoke and a stifling smell of gas. She flung up the window, win-dow, turned off the still escaping gas, and ran back to Emma. "Her hair's all scorched, ma'am," whispered the Gordon's maid. Scorched! Helen had thought she was only frightened. Drawing her to the lijht, she saw that her hair was badly singed. "Why, Emma," taking the girl's hands from her face, "and your eyebrows, eye-brows, too! Oh, I'm so sorry. Wait," Helen flew for the cold cream. "Here, rub this on does it smart?" The girl nodded and rubbed the cream on her soot-streaked face. "Oh, she came runnin' out so scared she couldn't speak!" the Gordons' mi::,! .11 c'utcHins a tea towel and a plate of the Gordons host china. "1 heard the explosion," admitted Helen, "but I didn't dream it was in our kitchen. Warren!" she called excitedly. ex-citedly. "Come here in Emma's room! The stove exploded!" Without waiting to take off his overcoat, over-coat, Warren came rushing out. "How'd this happen?" as he quickly quick-ly examined the singed hair and eyebrows. eye-brows. Then, turning to Helen. "Wf'd better have a doctor here." "Oh, no, sir, I'm all right, I don't need a doctor," protested Emma, "I hardly think she does, dear," murmured mur-mured Helen, thinking of '.he expense, yet baliug herself for it. |