Tombstone epitaph. (Tombstone, Ariz.) 1887-current, 1917-11-25

planning. but Frederick summed II up
while the others exchanged their COOL
ly friendly greetings, with the state
nent:
Rods been trying to get me to go
to Rose and say tnat 1t was all his
fault, and won't"
"Why notf" said Harriet. "what
earthly thing does 1t matter whose
fault 1t is? He can have 1t his fault
if he likes"
"You know it isn't" Frederick NUT.
tered rebelliously.
Harriet seated herself delicately and
deliberately in one Of the curving ends
Of little Victorian sofa. and stretched
her slim legs out in front of her.
'Certainly l don't care whose fault
1t u.s." she said. "You never get eny-
where by trying to decide a question
like that. What I'm interested In is
what can be done about it. It's not a
very nice situation. Nobody likes it
at least / should think Rose would
be pretty sick Of it by now. She may
have been crazy for a stage career, but
she's probably seen that the chorus Of
third-rate musical comedy won't take
her anywhere. The things simply a
mess. and the only thing to do is to
clear 1t up as quickly and as decently
| as We can-and II can be cleared up IL
| we go at II right. OF course the thing
to do is to get her out of that horrible
place as soon as We can. And / sup
pose the best way Of doing it will be
to get her into something else-take
her down to New York and work her
/ into q small part in some good COM
pany. Almost anything, IL 1t came to
that. so long as it wasn't music. Oh.
and have her use her own name, and
let US make as much Of 1t as we can.
| Face il out. Pretend we like 1t. /
don't say it's ideal, but it's better than
this"
Her own Manner he echoed blank
ly. do you mean she made one upT'
| Harriet nodded. Constance men
toned it," she said. but that was be-
| fore l knew what she was talking
about. And Of course I couldn't go
back and ask. Daphne something. l
| think. 1t sounded exactly like a chorus
| name. anyhow" And then: well.
how about it? viii you play the
gamer
"Oh. yes" he said. with a docility
that surprised Frederick. "rll play it.
1t comes to exactly the same thing,
what we both want done. and our rea-
sons for doing it are important to no.
| body but ourselves"
! She turned to Frederick. "You. too,
Freddy" she asked. "Will you give
your moral principles vacation and
take Rods message to Rose, even
though you may think it's Quixotic
nonsense?"
"I'll see Rose myself" said Rodney
quietly.
|
He was standing near the foot OF the
stairs when she came down, with a
raincoat on and a newspaper twisted
up in his hand. and at sight of her, he
took off his soft, wet hat. and crushed
1t up along with the newspaper. He
moved over toward her, but stopped
two or three feet away. Its very
| good Of you to come" he said, his
/ voice lacking a little Of the ridiculous
stiffness of his words, not much. as
there some place where we can talk a
little more-privately than here? I
shan't keep you long"
There's a room here somewhere"
she said.
The room she led him to was an ap-
! propriately preposterous setting for
the altogether preposterous talk that
ensued between them. 1t had a mosaic
| stained-glass windows in yellow and
/ green, flanking an oak mantel which
/ framed an enormous expanse of mot
tied purple tile, with n diminutive gas
log in the middle. A glassy-looking
oak table occupied most of the room,
and the chairs that were crowded in
around 1t were upholstered in highly
polished coffee-colored horse-hide, with
very ornate nails.
Its dreadfully hot in here" Rose
said. You'd better take of your coat"
/ She squeezed in between the table and
one of the chairs and seated herself.
Rodney threw down his wet hat, his
newspaper, and then his raincoat, on
the table. and slid into q chair oppo-
site her.
Il want to tell you first" Rodney
said, and his manner was that Of a
schoolboy reciting to his teacher an
| apology which has been rehearsed at
home under the sanction of paternal
authority-"I want to tell you how
deeply sorry am for
He had his newspaper in his hands
again and was twisting it up. His eyes
didn't once seek her face. But they
might have done so In perfect safety,
because her own were fixed on his
hands and the newspaper they crum-
pied.
He didn't presume to ask her for
giveness, he told her. He couldn't ex-
pect that; at least not at present. He
went on lamely, In broken sentences,
repeating what he'd said already in
still more inadequate words. He was
unable to stop talking until she should
say something, 1t hardly mattered
what. And she was unable to say any
thing.
The formality Of his phrases got