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Show I The Married Life of Helen and Warren 1 1 K T-?tt ATAT5T7T Originator of "Their Married H y lVLtt.L, Life." Author of "The Jour- H I HERBERT URNER g I ' : : - H I HELEN INVADES THEIR NEIGHBOR'S APARTMENT IN g 1 SEARCH OF VARREN'S DRESS SUIT (Copyright, 1917, by the MeClure Newspaper Syndicate.) ;-WS'':.Sv1 fjllllliil "Great Scott, what's happened 1 to these trou- i sers?" Helen, buttoning button-ing the straps of her blue satin slippers, threw a kimono over her bare shoulders and ran in to find Warren struggling strug-gling with his suspenders and voices from the hall. The girl was irying to explain. But the next instant in-stant Jlrs. Gordon, looming in the doorway, stared at her intruding visitor vis-itor in speechless amazement. "Oh, I'm so sorry," faltered Helen, "but the tailor's boy delivered Mr. Gordon's suit to us, and I I -'came to get Mr. Curtis'." "You came into my bedroom ! This is most astonishing! I never heard of such " "Mrs. Gordon, your maid couldn't lind the suit," in crimsoning embarrassment. embar-rassment. "She suggested that I " "And you took advantage of an ignorant ig-norant girl to go prying through my things?" "Prying?" flamed Helen. "You couldn't have waited until I got home?" "We're dining out Mr. Curtis is waiting to dress." The coat and vest Helen had taken from the hanger, and now while Mrs. Gordon looked on in contemptuous silence, with burning cheeks and bungling bun-gling fingers she was trying to free the trousers from the obstinate patent holder. . . As Mrs. Gordon stood haughtily aside to let her pass, there was a heavy step in the hall, and Mr. Gordon Gor-don blocked the doorway. In unaffected masculine amazement, he gazed at Helen, an incongruous figure fig-ure in her airy evening gown, awkwardly awk-wardly holding a man's dress suit. "Mrs. Curtis was exploring our closets when I came in," began Mrs. Gordon maliciously. "It seems the tailor left her husband's suit here, and she inveigled Jane to let her in while, we were out." "Oh, I say, Blanch, I'm sure Mrs. Curtis didn't mean " "I've tried to apologize," quivered Helen, "but Mrs. Gordon persists in misunderstanding. The maid couldn't find the suit she suggested that come in and look for it. I suppose J shouldn't, but " "Why, that was quite all right,'' Mr. Gordon was following her down the hall. "I'm sorry you've been inconvenienced. in-convenienced. Wait, allow me," as he opened the door. "Oh, thank you," in murmured confusion. con-fusion. "But I I shouldn't have gone in while you were out. I wouldn't it I'd stopped to think." i "Please don't let it distress you. I'll explain to Mrs. Gordon, I'm sure she didn't understand." In her own apartment Helen flew into the bedroom, where Warren was waiting in fuming impatience. Without a word she threw the suli on the bed and ran into ' her own room. The mortification of that seen was still too acute ; just then she could not rehearse it. In the rush of getting off, there was no time for discussion. But in the taxi Warren's keen glance rested ap-praisingly ap-praisingly on her flushed face. "What's wrong?" "Mrs. Gordon came in while I was there while I was going through hei closet!" dramatically. "Huh, that was a trifle awkward." Then with a chuckle, "Must've given her a jolt. How'd she take it?" "Don't laugh," tensely. "It couldn't have been worse. She said I took advantage ad-vantage of an ignorant girl's permission permis-sion to pry through her things." "She did, eh?" angrily. "That's putting put-ting it pretty strong." "That wasn't half ! . Then Mr. Gordon Gor-don came in, but he was very courteous cour-teous he tried to smooth things over." "Yes, I guess Gordon's a pretty decent de-cent sort but that's the difference in a man's attitude. You and Mrs. Gordon Gor-don have it in for each other you two are always squabbling." "Squabbling?" indignantly. "I've hardly spoken to her." A moment's silence as. swirling a corner with reckless speed, they just missed colliding with a heavy motortruck. motor-truck. "Guess that did lbok pretty bad," muttered Warren reflectively, "you rummaainK around in there. Don't much blame her for handing it to you." "Why, you suggested it," smarting under this injustice. "You had to have your suit you said we couldn't stand on ceremony." "Oh, well, it's over now," putting aside the unpleasant Incident with masculine indifference. "Forget it!" "If only they didn't live on the same floor !" deaf to Warren's careless philosophy. phi-losophy. "I'm always meeting her in the hall. And now oh, it'll be un speakable meeting her now !" "Yes, you're in Dutch with her, all right, but what's the diff? Don't want to be too chummy with close neighbors anyway." Then as the cab lurched up before a pretentious apartment house: "Hope we get a decent dinner here not a lot of fancy samples. I ftel like some real nourishment." Mabel HerSSnUmer mPinS down his trousers legs. "Look at that! Three inches too short ! Where the Sam Hill did these come from?" "Why, you've drawn them up too high." "Too high? Let out to the last notch. When'd you have this suit pressed?" examining the dress coat and vest he had thrown on the bed. "Today." "Well, it's somebody else's ! That fool taller got 'em mixed. Now we're in a devil of a fix !" "Oh, Warren, he couldn't! It must be your suit." "It is, eh? How about this 'H. Gordon'," finding the name on the tailor's label iuside the vest pocket. "Mr. Gordon!" excitedly. "Oh, that stupid delivery boy ! Dora'll have to take it in and get yours." With anxious directions, Helen folded fold-ed the suit over Dora's arm and sent her across the hall to the Gordons' apartment to explain the tailor's error. er-ror. But the girl returned with the disconcerting dis-concerting message that neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gordon was in and that she could not make their Norwegian maid understand. "Dear, wear your dinner coat," pleaded Helen. "The Leonards aren't very formal." "The dinner coat's all right but what about trousers? They happen to be in style this year." "Oh," despairingly, remembering Warren had but one pair of trousers for both his dress and dinner coat. "I'll see if I can locate 'em," girdling ; about him his long blanket robe. "No no, dear, you can't go like that ! Wait. I'm almost dressed. Only Mrs Gordon's so pecular I hate to go when she's not there." I If it had been any one but the Gor- ! dous, worried Helen, as Dora hooked her gown. Ever since the unpleasant maid incident, last winter, their relations rela-tions had been most strained. "The tailor who presses the clothes left this suit with us, so you must have Mr. Curtis'," explained Helen laboriously to the Gordons' maid. "Tijis Mr. Gordon's suit?" smiled the girl. "Yes, I take it in." ' "But I want the other suit! You don't understand. The tailor got the suits mixed " she began again with distinct, painstaking slowness. "Oh, yes, ma'am yes, ma'am, I understand un-derstand ! I get you the suit." Helen waited hopefully at the door, but it was a blue suck suit that the girl brought out. Once more she explained ex-plained that it was black with a tsatin faced collar, and the maid came smilingly smil-ingly back with a morning coat.. "Know what time it is?" called Warren, War-ren, appearing in the hall. "Oh, I can't make her understand," desperately. "She's brought every suit but the right one." "Then go in and get it yourself." "Oh, not while they're out !" "Well, if we're going to that dinner we can't stand on ceremony." "Yes, ma'am, you come look that'll be all right," the maid assured theiu.v Reluctantly Helen followed her through the long, dim hall. Though they had lived on the same floor with the Gordons for over two years, it was the first time she had been in their apartment. E'ast the dining room, with the table set for dinner, a glimpse of a bathroom bath-room with elaborate, but unpolished fixtures, and Helen found herself in an overfurnished bedroom cluttered with cretonne-covered boxes and handmade hand-made knicknacks that suggested a church bazaar. "Maybe you find it here." The girl threw open the closet door. It was a crowded, disordered closet. The shelves were jumbled with hat-boxes hat-boxes and the floor littered with shoes and shoe trees. From a cross rod hung Mr. Gordon's suit. Helen went through them hurriedly. A frock coat, a cutaway, four sack suits, an overcoat over-coat Warren's dress suit was not there. "Maybe in hurry sjie left it here," suggested the maid, leading the way into the smaller bedroom that in their apartment Helen used as a dressing room. Here Mrs. Gordon's clothes overflowed over-flowed the hooks and crowded the door. On the cross-pole hung her better bet-ter frocks on ribbon-covered hangers, and among them gleamed the satiny black of Warren's dress suit. The sound of a closing door, and the maid ran out with an anxious, "Oh. Mrs. Gordon I tell her!" Helen stood paralyzed Murmured |
