The Press., 1909-07-14
MRS, HAVE AND
 MRS. HAVENOT.
The Modest Little Home That Was Happy, Though Poor.
By AGNES DILLON.

| Dear mep' she said faintly. Then she turned sharply on the tmperturb- able driver "Do you mean to say,' she asked rather fretfully, "that this is 225 Rosemere courtT
 "The same,'' said the hired driver. ''Two twenty-five, please"
 As Mrs. Simms opened the elaborate gold mesh purse she carried she was conscious of bewildered surprise. Of course she had known Carrie had not married wealth, but Carries letters in the years during which they had not seen each other had been so cheerful! How any woman could be cheerful liv- ing on this little side street was beyond Betty Simms.
 Still bewildered and holding her trailing skirts daintily, she entered the building, and another surprise met her. There was no elevator, and Mrs. Lewis Adelbert Simms was used to having elevators when she needed them. Ap- parently there was nothing to do but to climb, and to the fourth floor too! Each step added to her amazement.
 It was impossible to picture Carrie as harassed by poverty. In their school days she had been one of the regal creatures the mere sight of whom called up visions of ermine and old lace, of Iackeys and gold coin. They had all been sure Carrie would marry a millionaire. When she did marry she wrote Betty Simms, who had indeed married a millionaire, much to every ones surprise, being a small, quiet, demure little creature of no ap- parent brilliance, one of her charac- teriStic letters.
 "Mother is furious," Carrie wrote cheerfulIy, "because Tom isn't rich. l cant make her see we shall be far too busy just being happy to have the mere matter of money count. AS for that, some day Tom will be rich. He has the brains!'
 And this was all Toms brains had done for Carrie in six years! When she had written Carrie she would pass through her town and wanted to look her up the prompt reply and invitation to luncheon had not mentioned those three flights of stairs. Perhaps Carrie was so used to them she had not thought Mrs. Simms pressed the but ton beside the door.
 There was chatter of feet down in the inside hall and a woman's voice in laughing protest, and the door opened to precipitate small sized avalanche of small boy and barking, woolly dog almost into the astonished arms of the caller. Behind the avalanche stood Carrie.
 Betty at lastr' she cried. Anthony, let the lady in! Take Sub away. We call the dog Substitute because he's such a ridiculous imitation of a real hearty dog"
 Mrs. Simms found herself drawn by her friend across the tiny hall into the living room, and there the two took a good look at each other. Carrie, the regal Carrie, stood clad in blue and white wash shirt waist suit that would not be injured by entry into the kitchen. Above it the old brilliant, eager face, thinner, with hints of lines and with it's interested, searching brown eyes, looked down as of old on Betty Simms in her Paris wrap and her trading gown. There was a com passion ill Betty's eyes that shone forth unknown to her, and Carrie laughed her old gay laugh.
 "YOu paid at least $40 for that love of a hat, Betty" she said. ''but per haps you won't mind taking it off and laying it on my $16.5O bed"
 ''It's a bird of paradise" said Betty mechanically as she struggled with the hatpins. The dresser silver was the same Carrie had had at school, with no additions. The dresser scarf was only hemstitched scrim, and the bed spread, though dainty, was of flow cred silkoline that Betty knew in her soul had been picked up for a few cents a yard.
 Still daZed, Bhe followed her hostess back into the little parlor. In spite of it's smallness it looked bare. Not superfluous article adorned its walls. The manteI boasted a single ornament "a jar of quaint pottery. The b""f:9 on the table. however. were plcn+ifli: The single small rug cn the wavtf~ floor was an oriental. Throu"h t" arch the dining room table Sh"Wt. weathercd cak, artistic, but the tb;a est of woods.
 "Tell me all about yourself. Betty, her hostess was begging.
 For an instant Mrs. Lewis Adelbert Simms groped for words. "Why." she laughed, a trifle ruefully, "there isn't anything to tell! I just got married and life goes on, and there are lots of parties and dinners and things, and I always seem to be in a terrible rush, or else Lewis is, and we never have time for anythingv'
 q see," said her hostess, a little quietly, her great eyes taking in the somewhat expressionless face of the other twill you excuse me while l put lunch on the table-unless you want to come into the kitchen with meP'
 She smiled as if giving an invitation to come into the conservatory, and Betty Simms followed and, sitting on a wooden chair, watched Carries deft tor and to the stove.
 "Why," she said involuntarily, "you act as if you like doing this, Carrie Peabody"
 Carrie paused on her way to the table. T don't mind," she said. "It's only means to an end. He wants you to take him, Betty"
 Mrs. Simms looked into the face of small Anthony clutching her gown and, lifting him up, was surprised to have him cuddle down contentedly as one used to being held and made much of.
 Sub, the woolly dog, followed, and many emotions chased themselves through the head of Mrs. Simms. To her credit, not once did she think of the possible wrinkling and spelling of her gown. When before in her life had her arms been full of woolly dog and little boy? It was new sensation.
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