The circle banner. [volume] (Circle, Mont.) 1914-1939, 1917-06-08

T.
Portia nodded, pulled back her chair
abruptly, and sat down.
81 thought that on Saturday :"
her mother began.
"Oh, KNOW" said Portia, shut that
girl I've got isn't much good"
You'd have known them for mother
and daughter anywhere, and you'd
have had trouble finding any point of
resemblance in either of them to the
Amazonian young thing who had so
nearly thrown a street-car conductor
into the street the night before.
The mothers hair was very soft anc
white, and the care with which it was
arranged indicated certain harmless
vanity in it. There was something a
little conscious, too, about her dress.
If you took it in connection with a
certain resolute amiability about her
smile, you would be entirely prepared
to hear her tell Portia that she was to
talk on Modern Tendencies" before
the Pierian club this afternoon.
A very real person, nevertheless
you couldn't doubt that. The marks of
passionately held beliefs and eagerly
given sacrifices were etched with I'M
deniable authenticity in her face.
Once you got beyond catalogue of
features, Portia presented rather a
striking contrast to this. Her hair
was done with a severity that was
fairly hostile. Her clothes were
brusquely worn. Her smile, if not ILL
natured-it wasn't that-was distinct
ly ironic. A very competent, good
looking young woman, just now droop-
ing little over the cold lunch.
$50 Rose didn't come down this
morning at all. Nothing particular the
matter with her, is there?" asked Por-
tia.
There was enough real concern in
her voice to save the question from
sounding satirical, but her mothers
manner was a little apologize when
she answered it.
mo, I think not" she said. "But
she was in such a state when she
came home last alphabetically wet
through to the skin, and blue with
cold. So L thought it wouldn't do any
harm. :"
"Of course not" said Portia.
"Rose is all right. She won't spoil
badly"
"I'm a little bit worried about the
loss of the poor childs notebooks"
said her mother.
ST don't believe Rose is worrying |
her head off about them," said Portia.
The flush in her mothers cheeks
deepened little, but it was no long
er apologize. 81 don't think you're
quite fair to Rose, about her Studies"
she said. eff she doesn't seem always
to appreciate her privilege in getting
college education as seriously as she
should, you should remember her
youth. She's only twenty"
''I'm sorry, mother" Portia inter-
rupted contritely. 81 didn't mean any
harm anyway. Didn't she say the
mans name was Rodney Aldrich?"
81 think So" her mother agreed.
Something like that"
''It's rather funny" said Portia.
tits hardly likely to have been the
real Rodney Aldrich. Yet it's not a
name"
'aThe real Rodney Aldrich?" ques- '
Toned her mother. But, without wait
ng for her daughters elucidation of ]
he phrase, she added, "Oh, there's |
2oser
The girl came up behind Portia and I
her in big, lazy hug. "Back t
o work another Saturday afternoon, l
Angelo" she asked commiseratingly.
Aren't you ever going to stop and h
lave any fun?" Then she slumped I
nto chair, heaved a yawning sigh, Il
nd rubbed her eyes. T.
"Tired, dear?" asked her mother.
The said it under her breath in the f
ope that Portia wouldn't hear. g
"No," said Rose. "Just sleepy" D
he yawned again, turned to Portia, n
nd, somewhat to their surprise, said: II
Yes, what do you mean-the real a
.odney Aldrich? He looked real
nough to me. And his arm felt real NJ
the one he was going to punch the 81
Onductor with" OF
81 didn't mean he was imaginary" a
ortia explained. 81 only meant l lie
ldn't believe it was the Rodney
so awfully prominent; 81
ther somebody else who happened 81
, have the same name, or somebody fc
no just-said that was his name"
"What's the matter with the promi- IC
ant one?" Rose wanted to know.
Why couldn't it have been hep" Ill
Portia admitted that it could, so far II
J that went, but insisted on an in
,rent improbability. A millionaire, II
e brother OF Mrs. Martin Whitney, II
asn't likely to be found riding IN y
rect cars.
"iillionaires have legs" said Rose.
bet they can walk around Ike any
ldy else. However, don't care who cd
. is, If he'll send back my books" nc
Portia went back presently to the in
op, and it wasn't long after that that on
r mother came downstairs clad for th
e street, with her Modern Tendon ST,
es" under her arm in a leather port or
III rxix- xxy{f