The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1915-12-11
The Unchastened Woman

ne o1o not observe that the screen
which stood In front Of the gas stove
was q wonderful old blue: he only
shuddered at the thought OF the ugly
gas stove and the sink in close proxi-
NIFTY. The bookcase Just outside OF
MS own door was filled with we'll
CHOSEN books: this fact escaped his
consciousness, which was offended at
the ugly desk and typewriter just be-
yond. On the walls hung pictures of
Tolstoi, Ruskin and Prince Kropatkin.
They were clear prints and we'll
framed, but to Lawrence they stood
out as apostles of the ugly; II one
could not have Matisse or Claude
Monet on ones walls they might be
left decently bare.
Lawrence had accustomed himself
to large vistas, to luxurious silence,
to soft lights; here was the narrow
ness of single room. The clamor of
a hurdy-gurdy and shrieking tenement
children tormented him through the
window. and noon sunlight completed
the torture by fairly glazing into his
his eyes as it reflected from the white
walls like billiard ball caroming
back and forth across a table.
In all the lists of nnpleasantnesses
bills and general ugliness, there was
just one bit of cheer-his old firm had
offered him his old position at an en-
tirely new salary that was to be adj
vanced $40 a week over his previous
earning capacity. That was one an
Choir to windward, but he was not cast
ing anchor-as yet.
He wanted desperately to have Car
oline admire his wife. Somehow or
other he knew that he would feel
more justified in his own eyes if Car
oline could be made to appreciate Hill
degrade And that there was any
thing inconsistent in this point Of
view at the particular time, when he
appreciated Hildegrade least, he did
not know.
After fussing over all the house
hold arrangements to degree which
must have driven q woman less sane
than Hildegarde we'll nigh mad, he
turned upon her suddenly with a new
| worry. Are you going to wear that
dress?"
I whats the matter with my dress?"
asked Hildegarde, smoothing down the
folds of her soft gray cloth dress, which
was made distinctly for service and
not as lure for masculine eyes. In
it she had almost the quietness apd
sweet occurrences of fiction's favorite
Quaker maid.
But not Priscilla herself had more
distractingly soft golden hair, and NO
woman in all the world was more com.
pletely feminine than Hildegrade, hav.
ing married a man she loved she felt
that he needed her to mother him and
to stand between him and the conse
quences of his own actions.
But at heart Hildegrade was, if not
the sturdy oak she seemed, and surely
not a parasitic clinging vine, still a
very human young woman who would
have enjoyed leaning intensely if there
had been any one on whom to lean!
Lawrence was looking her over du
biously. He sensed that she produced
an effect altogether different from Car
dimes and that of the women in the
world. ooh, suppose it's all right
But honestly, now, your feet aren't a:
big as that. It's those Consumer.
League boots-just like those gloves
You'd wear anything with trade un
ion label on it-no matter what i
looks like, wouldn't you?"
"They won't see my feet" protested
Hildegarde
Wont they, though Oh, Lord
That skirt hikes!" exploded Lawrence
And Hildegarde knew that she ha,
best send him off to fetch their guests
before what she generously called hi
nervousness communicated itself t,
her The last touch of satric fatt
was given to the situation when Mrs
Murtha arrived in place Of Agne:
whose services had been contracted
for. The cunning old woman had {
way of appearing in the place of hel
more attractive daughter and Mrs
| KNOWS who had once heen forced re
accept her services, hated the sight OF