The Washington herald., 1916-10-09

This series II continuation OF
'Their Married Life,' produced by
Mabel Herbert Urner for four years.
'The Married Life of Helen and War
ren,D appearing exclusively In this pa
per, fs the only series now being writ
ten by Mabel Herbert Urner.
Flashing signs threw their changing
colors over the high-hatted opera
cloaked audience that poured out from
the latest Broadway success.
The glistening cars and taxicabs that
blocked the street honked their way to
the curbing as the electric figures blazed
their numbers.
A glimpse of jewel-buckled slippers and
startling lengths Of silken hosiery. as
each car received its party and made
way for the next.
How about shirley's for support" eug-
gested Warren. Pretty lively there"
Fine" agreed Mr.. Foster, who. like
all Westerners, was eager to make the
rounds of the white-light district.
The revolving doors of Shtriey's, two
blocks beyond, were urging in their share
Of the after-theater crowd. While War
rem and Mr.. Foster checked their coats,
Helen stepped into the rose-paneled dress
lng-room, where a tip-expectant maid
took her wraps and smoothed the chiffon
iounces of her evening gown.
Something doing" grunted Warren, as
they entered the crowded dining-room.
Wen have to put up blufr for table
here" Then to the approaching head
waiter, "Curtis-W. E. Curtis. Table for
three"
Yes, sir" drawing the list OF tables
reserved from his pocket. Then as his
pencil ran down the column. Il don't find
your name. sir
You don't eh?' angrily. We'll. I'm
not responsible for your bookkeeping. Do
I get table or not?'
"Jut a moment, sir. II you reserved a
table. there's some mistake. I'll see what
I can DO for you" Again consulting his
list, with an anxious survey of the few
tables marked Reserved" he led them
to one. on the very edge Of the dancing
space.
How about this?" grinned Warren.
But, dear. It wasn't fair" protested
Helen uneasily. You know you hadn't
reserved a table"
well wen put over anything we can
at these joints. You needn't have any
scruples-wait till you see the check.
They'll soak US all right. Hello, that's
what you might call abbreviated as a
girl whisked by in an extremely snort
skirted, low-bodiced gown.
Looks like she made that out OF a
remnant" laughed Mr.. Foster.
We'll. II they keep on cutting 'em OF
at both ends-they'lI soon be wearing ruff
fed lampshades. What d'you want to
drink" as the assertive-looking waiter
lmpatiently adjusted the wine card.
The drinks selected, Warren and Mr..
Foster ordered broiled lobster and Helen
a caviar sandwich.
Looks like prosperity all right" COM
mented Mr.. Foster, glancing over the
brilliant scene. This would make a
E1v 1t
zine stories of the New York Spend
ers'"
"Oh, there're a lot OF four-iushers
here" shrugged Warren. Most OF these
Wall Street men blow It as fast as they
get It. These supper places looked pref
ty sick when they had that lockout at
the stock exchange"
The duty on champagne now makes
It WHAT" Mr.. Foster turned TO the wine
list. "SIG-hfty a quart. Don't that seem
pretty stif?'
They soak you dollar extra here,
but. this crowd don't mind that" with
an appraising glance about Most of
these fellows were on their uppers two
years ago. Now the wheels turned
they're whooping it up"
As the orchestra clashed into Very
Good Eddie" couples left their tables
and glided out on the waxed floor.
See that fat, bald-headed chap7'
chuckled Warren. Get the express
sion? bet he's counting one, two. three,
slide""
With elephantine grace the stout, mid
dle-aged man painted by, his face set IN
anxious worriment, while he fairly puff
ed from his exertions.
Looks too much like work" Warren
swished more vichy into his highball.
"Jove, here comes couple! Lamp this,
will your"
A woman OF about 50, in a scant girl
ish gown of canary taffeta- whirIed by.
Her gray hair, in tortured puffs, was
bound with a rhinestone bandeau. her
low pearl-trimmed bodice showing the
scrawny, bony neck.
The older they are the younger they
DRESS" unused Mr.. Foster. she ought
TO be home grandmothering the kids"
That's where a lot OF 'em ought to be.
They drag their tired old bones to fox
trots and cafes-when they're crying out
for bed, hannels and hot-water bags"
"oh, look, did you see that? ohT
gasped Helen with Mortified laugh. He
slipped a piece of ice down her neck"
The table behind them was in an up
roar while the girl, with a wriggling
shiver, tried to extricate the ice.
Hold on, bring that back" roared
Warren. as the waiter removed the glass.
Now we're not going to be pushed along
here! Understand"
Yes I've noticed that" observed Mr.
Foster. They whisk things of before
you're half through"
Want you to order more, or get your
tip and move you on" grunted Warren
But that don't work with me-
He didn't bring any lemon" complain
ed Helen, viewing with disfavor the thin
slice Of bread on which the caviar was
most sparingly spread. A bit Of chopped
onion on a lettuce leaf completed the
eighty-cent sandwich.
Bring some. lemon ordered Warren
cracking a crimson lobster claw.
OH Helen caught and steadied her
glass as couple bumped heavily into
their table. The man murmured an apollo
gy, but the girl threw Warren a gay
save the pieces" as she whirled on.
See that dimple?' grinned Warren.
'Dinnple factory must be working over
time these days-they've all got 'ern
Sure, I mean it! These beauty parlors
turn 'em out-so much per-"
why. dear, you know they don't" re-
sented Helen. How could"
We'll, just look around. How about
It, Foster? Ever see so many dimples !?