The circle banner. [volume] (Circle, Mont.) 1914-1939, 1917-09-14

TO success as designer OF costume
for the theater was good life, broad
ening, stimulating, seasoning. 1t rest
ed, to begin with, on foundation o
adequate material comfort which tn
unwonted physical privations of the 81,
months that preceded it made seen
like positive luxury.
For several months after she came t,
New York to work for Galbraith sh,
found him a martinez. She never one,
caught that twinkling CLEAN of under
standing in his eye which had mean
so much to her during the rehearsals
of ''The Girl Upstairs" His manner
toward her carried out the tone of the
letter she'd got from him in Chi
cago. 1t was stiff, formal, severe. He
seldom praised her work, and never
ungrudgingly. His censure was rare,
too, to be sure, but this obviously was
because Rose almost never gave him
an excuse for it. Working for him in
this mood gave her the uneasy sensa-
ton one experiences when walking
abroad under sultry, overcast sky,
with mutterings and flashes in it. And
then one night the storm broke.
They had, fingered in the theater
after the dismissal of a rehearsal, to
talk over q change in one of the num-
bers Rose had been working on. 1t re-
fused to come out satisfactorily. Rose
thought she saw way of doing it that
would work better, and she had been
telling him about it. Eagerly, at first.
and with a limpid directness which,
however, became clouded and troubled
when she felt he wasn't paying atten-
ton. 1t was a difficulty with him she
had encountered before.
But tonight, after an angry turn
down the aisle and back, he suddenly
cried out: 81 don't know. / don't
know what you've been talking about.
1 don't know, and / don't care" And
then, confronting her, their faces not
foot apart, for by now she had got to
her feet, his hands gripped together
and shaking, his teeth clenched, his
eyes glowing there in the half-light of
the auditorium almost like an ami
mails, he demanded: "Can you see
what's the matter with me? Haven't
you seen it YETI"
OF course she saw it now, plainly
She sat down again, man.
aging an air of deliberation about it,
md gripped the back of the orchestra
chair in front of her. He remained |
standing over her there in the aisle.
When the heightening tension of the
silence that followed this outburst had |
,rown absolutely uncomfortable, she
poke. But the only thing she could
ind to say was almost ludicrously in
Idequate.
mo, didn't see it until now. I'm
orry."
"You didn't see it," he echoed. ST
now you didn't. You've never seen
ne at all, from the beginning, as any
hing but a machine. But why haven't
gu? You're woman. If I ever saw
woman in my life, you're one all the
vay through. Why couldn't you see
hat was a man? 1t isn't because I've
OF gray hair, nor because I'm fifty
ears old. 1 don't believe you're like
nat. But even back there in Chicago,
ne night we walked down the avenue
'om that store-or the night we
ad supper together after the show
:"
81 suppose I ought to have seen," she
lid duly. fought to have known that ,
lat was all there was to it. But I
dn't." -.
"Well, you see it now" he said saw =,
5ely fairly, and strobe away up the :
sic and then back to her. He sat !
OWN in the seat in front of her and :
Irned around. 81 want to see your =,
ice," he said. "There's something =
We got to know. Something you've :
IT to tell me. You said once, back =
ere in Chicago, that there was only ;
lie person who really mattered to you. ;
hat he is. Whether he's still the one
,rson who really matters. If he isn't,
i take my chance" !.
Remembering the scene afterward, :
Ose was little surprised that she'd !;
ZEN able to answer him as she did, :,
lthout hesitation or stammer, and =
It'll a straight gaze that held his un- =.
she had finished. :,
"The only person in the world" she
id, "who ever has mattered to me, or
er will matter, is my husband. =
Il in love with him the day met him. :
was in love with him when I left Il
N. I'm in love with him now. Every a
ing do that's any good is just some =. =,
ing he might be proud of if he knew =
And every failure is just something u
hope would make him understand
d not despise me for. It's months d
ice I've seen him, but there isn't a y
Y, there isn't an hour in day, when IL
don't think about him and-want ~
n. don't know whether I'll ever see Il
q again, but If don't, 1t won't make p
Y difference with that. That's why II
MT see what might have seen about u
/. 1t wasn't possible for me to see. "
never have seen it if you hadn't In
d me in so many words, like this. Do :.
i see now?' -
lie turned away from her with nod, d.
| put his hands up to his face. She
tied a moment to see whether he 81
| anything else to say, for the habit ST
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