The Glenwood post., 1917-05-05
ACROSS THE STREET
BY ISABEL FROST.

zone of the joys of living in city
Is not knowing or caring who your next
door neighbor is, and equal indifference
on his or her side"
Jean poured tea with her customary
air of absorbed nonchalance.
Now, where l came from everyone
knows all about you. It's simply ter.
rible. You never feel grown up. I'm
nineteen and nobody called me Miss
Ashton, not single person. They just
said Bah, or that Ashton girl. And be-
cause l wanted to break away by my
self and do something in the world they
well, they didn't approve"
Hartley eyed her curiously from his
place on the high window seat. What
queer. self-sufiicent little wanderer
she was. 1t was quite as if very
young, adventurous kitten had started
| off to see the world by itself 1t was
| mighty nice of Jean to get her under
her wing, he thought. Jean was al
ways doing that sort of thing, opening
the doors of her Ninth street studio
wide to all heart wayfarers who need
ed cheering up. He could not measure
up all that her faith and comradeship
had meant to him during his own up
hill fight in New York. Perhaps the
only thing about Jean he did not like
was that she herself never seemed to
need help from anyone. He would have
loved to know she needed him; that his
presence and aompanionship were a
strength to her; that she even missed
him when he failed to show up for a
few days. AS 1t was. she merely gave
him the usual smile and happy greet
ing, and went on with her work.
1t was a week later when he got the
tickets to Savelli's musicale. There was
splendid 'cellist and a good soloist,
young soprano who sank folk songs.
He thought Jean might like to go. But
instead she told him over the phone
that she was too busy, and asked if he
would mind taking Bah. The kiddie
| was lonely and rather at sea. said
Jean.
That was the beginning, and he went
on sullenly at first, then Indignantly,
| believing it was all Jeans fault Bah
| enjoyed going around with him to the
exhibitions and little studio teas i'm
| mensely. She was pretty and exuber-
i ant, tantalizing and whimsical.
One day she came up to jeans studio
rather white and discouraged.
you know I'm not earning anything
| at all, not a cent" she said suddenly.
Its funny how little one can live on
here, isn't 1t? hate spaghetti and
cereals. Mother was the most wonder
full cook you ever saw. don't see
how people starve in garrets and paint
or write masterpieces"
Jean did not take her seriously. 1t
was so usual to say you are not max
ing money. and only meant you were
not earning the hundreds you had
hoped to.
The morning Of the fourth day
phone call came from Miss Milligan,
the landlady across the street.
you're little Miss Ashton's friend,
aren't you? Well, she's pretty sick,
and If something isn't done the doctor
says she's got to go to a hospital right
away. It's pneumonia, he says, and she
hasn't been eating regular"
! Jean stood in the middle of the floor,
thinking quickly. Then in five minutes
she had called up good nurse. her
own doctor, and had made arrange
ments for bringing Bah over to her
own coZy suite of rooms. When Hart
ley came down at noon she met him at
the door with her finger to her lips.
He listened in silent wonder as she
told him what she had done.
| "But your work"
"Never mind my work. We've got
to feed her up and put her on her feet
again. Go and send a telegram to her
mother for me. Answer that phone,
will you, while I write this?"
| Hartley obeyed, and turned from it
to her with n curious smile.
"There's somebody downstairs from
Haines Falls" he said "He wants to
know If you know where Miss Ashton
is. Isn't she from Haines Falls?'
"I'll see him." Jean went down the
winding staircase quickly, and met the
tall, anxious-faced youngster waiting
there.
81 got letter from Bab-from Miss
Ashton-last night" he said brokenly.
I'VE were engaged, you know, and she
broke it, but she wrote me she was on
the last lap, and she didn't care what
happened she was so hungry and sick.
So came at once to take her home. I
wondered If you'd fix 1t so we could be
married first" .. ...
Half an hour later Jean left the two
together in the darkened room, Bah,
her eyes bright with fever, but con-
scious and holding fast to the big boys
hand. Hartley sat in the studio on
the window seat waiting for her. She
went to him; her eyes rather tired
now that the nerve-strain was over.