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Show Tho Last Analysis By MARC1A DINSMORE McClure Newspaper Svndlcat. WNU Service. LENA looked at the paper in tront of her hopelessly. In neat, legible legi-ble script she had made two columns, col-umns, the result of three long hours of study over a book entitled "Character "Char-acter Analysis." With the advice and assistance oi this volume she had been trying to find out what made her so different from all the other girls she knew. Probably she had been too honest with herself. I The examination of one's character i is a safe proceeding only when one ! is comfortably blind to one's faults, i Lena, this day, was in a desperate j mood. Three weeks ago, when the new assistant buyer had returned J from. his first trip to New York, he J had plunged enthusiastically into the . - office to report Hnrt had found Lena j there alone at her typewriter. And since he was ready to pour the joyous story of his conquest of Gotham Goth-am into any sympathetic ears, Gail Hemingway had straddled a chair and had talked to Lena for almost an hour in fact until the boss returned. re-turned. Lena had not been able to complete her work that day, but she had quite succeeded in falling in love. "The trouble is, I'm mid-Victorian," Lena summed it up. "I want attention, to be taken to dances and made love to, but I don't want them badly enough to go after them. I'm afflicted with the disease my grandmother would have called maidenly reserve." Her lip curled in scorn. "I can't help being timid, holding back, but I must dp something to make Gail know that I am on earth, something that may seem awfully bold, but which really turns out to be quite modest. That's to save my pride." Gail Hemingway, home from his next trip, flipped over his morning's mail at the office with a casual hand. His fingers paused over a stiff white envelope. A letter from Lena! He smiled in pleased anticipation. antici-pation. "Dearest," it began, "somewhere I read a sentence which has been echoing in my heart all day. "The precious jewel of thy home-return!' It is a jewel, dear, which I am wearing proudly for all to see." There was a great deal more of this, and Gail read every word. And when he had finished, he kissed it suddenly and read it again. As he was reading the letter for the fifth time, finding in it new and endearing qualities, there cam a knock at the door. It was a messenger mes-senger boy, with a special delivery letter. And Gail saw, with a swelling swell-ing of the heart, that this letter, too, was from Lena. "Dear Gail," It began in her usual careless style, "Fraid I'v made a frightful error, and sent you the wrong letter. The enclosed is the one which should have gone to you. Please be a dear and return the other one. Hope you haven't read itl Lena." Lena had laid her planj very carefully, but she had reckoned without the boss and hit habit of sending her on errands to all parts of the building. And now, to her intense dismay she found herself outside the door of Gall's office' not 10 minutes after he had received the BDecial delivery. At his harsh "Come in" the girl ventured as far as' the threshold, prepared to stammer her message and . depart. Gall was staring morosely at the letters; but he turned at her entrance, and stood quickly, glaring at her. "The boss says " Lena swallowed. swal-lowed. Gail waved "the boss" aside with an impatient hand. "Lena, do you ever read detective stories?" "Why, why, yes." She stared at him. - "Then you must know that even great criminals always make some small error." He picked up the two letters thoughtfully. "I doubt if you qualify as a criminal at all." Lena flushed slowly. "What do you mean?" "Do you expect anyone to believe," be-lieve," said Gail calmly, "that this letter," he waved the Invitation to tea before her; it was written on linen note paper, "was ever intended intend-ed to fit into this envelope" He indicated the heavy square which had first arrived. Lena stared at him wordless, suddenly panic stricken. What was the mid-Victorian maiden to do in a case like this? Gail pulled out his watch and laid it on the desk before him. "I want you to own up," he said firmly, "that the first letter was written to me and to me only. And I'll give you just three minutes to do it in!" "No," gasped Lena. "It wasn't! It was written to " She stopped. "There are only two minutes left," said Gail inexorably. Then suddenly sudden-ly he grinned, boyishly, and Lena, shamefaced, grinned back. "I wrote it to make you notice me," she confessed. "As if I hadn't anyway!" he cried indignantly. But Lena, even with her lips against his, (wondered). |