Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1916-12-22

were what people called good girls" and
bad girls" But l think my ideas of
morality would have fitted the nursery
rhyme which tells us that: when Il
girl is good she is very, very good; and
when she is bad she is horrid."
Now, Lucy unquestionably was no,
"horrid" She was pleasant, good
tempered, bright, pretty, and 1 felt in
stinctively that she was kind hearted
Thus it was hard for me in my childish
ness to class her as what the world calls
| bad"
1 was unable to grasp the situation
when Mr.. Fellowes arrived at her home.
Yet | had felt miserable and constrained
and glad to leave my friends rooms as
soon as possible. Nor had Lucy urged
me stay. Mr. Fellowes had not offered
to see me home. Thus L had put on my
hat and coat with a feeling of unpleas-
antness growing more strongly upon me.
AS luck would have it, it was not late
in the evening and my mother was wait
| ing up for me when 1 returned. We haa
never been very close to each other
very intimate-the woman who had
brought me into the world and myself.
But after all, our instincts are some
times stronger in us than we know our
selN es. Perhaps IL was instinct which
drove me on now, in my bewilderment,
casually as l entered our sitting room.
You are home earlier than you ex-
pected. Diana, aren't your she asked.
1 nodded.
Didn't you have a good timer" she
asked curioSly.
stood arranging and rearranging
some magazines that were on the table.
For the moment l felt unable to speak
My mothers glance was now focused
steadily upon me.
What haPpened?" she asked.
Something has happened. Have you
lost your tongue? Tell me about it,"
1t was not a very understanding way
TO urge a young girl on to confidence.
but 1 was singularly lonely, friendless,
at that time in my life | had no one
20 turn to and very much l wanted to
know the meaning of the things l had
seen that evening, and so:
Mother" | began, IL don't under
stand-please tell me-
And in another instant / was pouring
forth the story of my evenings adven-
Jure. My mother listened in silence. She
asked no questions; doubtless she was
But her face became colder and more
set as my story Went on.
"And So" l concluded, although
know Lucy likes me, and we were to
have such happy time together after
dinner talking, ! felt as though she
didn't want me-after that Mr.. Eel
loves came in. 1t wasn't as though she
didn't like me- mother, any more it was
just that she didn't want me-
There was silence in the room before
my mother spoke.
"Of course mott" mother said decisively
She is a bad girl and you found her
ha of
she was uncomfortable when she felt
you knew what she had done. She re-
allied you were too good for her."
But I'm mott" l protested 81 like
her! Why, mother, she is the only girl
who was kind to me in the store!"
THAT makes no difference. DIANA"
my mother declared. You will not be
friends with her in the future. You
could not afford to be seen with a girl
who allows some man to furnish rooms
for her and pay her servant"
But maybe Mr.. Fellowes doesn't do
that" l protested, although 1 felt my
case was hopeless. How do you know,
MOTHER"
My mother shrugged her shoulders.
Don't be silly!" she said. "Of course
he does! Would he come in like that,
is though he owned the place, If it
were not true?"
Perhaps | admitted slowly. Then
paused to think. 1 tried to put my
IDEAS into words. But, mother" 1 said
slowly, you let Mr.. Atkins give me
furs, and l don't think you mind if any
man gives me anything pretty to wear.
Why is it so terrible, then, if Mr.. Fei-
loves has given Lucy furniture?"
My mother made an impatient ex-
clamation in her throat.
II have told you again and again,
DIANA" she said, that it is a mans
privilege to give a woman beautiful
things. If you abe pretty it is your
right that You should take them. You
do not have to pay for them. Do you
understand? Lucy is a bad girl, and a
fool, because she allows this Mr. Eel
loves to act as though the furniture
ne had given her were his own. She is
d fool because she cuts off her own fu-
cure for the sake of a few chairs and
tables! Once she has lived as she does
now, no man will want to marry her,
and she is cut off utterly from the
friendship of decent women like our
selves No, Diana, a girl may take,
but she must never give!