Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1917-02-02

~ ONE true estimate of the sort of
life l had led was beginning to
sift through my mind. To be
sure 1t was taking some cruel lessons
10 teach me. But at last l had been
stirred to the very depths. Perka ps
there was still hope for me. [ might
in time become a real woman. Ger
talnIy had been dealt two hard blows
in one evening; first, Mr.. Colby had
pictured my future to me in a most nm
attractive manner; and then June. nv
young admirer, whom 1 had believed
l had completely under my control
had mutinied
1 had left June alone in his rooms
without word, even as 1 had left Mr..
Colby a few hours before. Nor had l
sought my mothers company when I
returned home. l felt that in this she
could no. help me. Here was the COM
plete overthrow of my vanity. would
nave TO build 1t again alone, unaided,
upon what sort of foundat ton remained
to be seen.
when morning came l had not slept.
Toward noon my mother came to in
quire if l was ill.,. l asked her peevish-
Iy TO let me alone; | was all rignr.
BY. afternoon 1 had partaken languidIv
OF some tea and toast; also | was grow
ing heartily tired of my own thoughts.
From habit my mind turned naturally
10 distraction. | walked back and forth
In my room reStlessly, my kimono
sweeping behind me-
What's the good of all this?' | said
to myself, angrily. I'll so out; that s
what III do! I'll have a good timeI That
will make me forget
And suddenly, out of a clear sky, it
dawned upon me my good times might
not come so easily now. June and Mr.
Colby were both gone. Howard Boyd
was thing of the past. With my sell
tlshness and mean-spiritednesS had
alienated those who had been good to
me. Now what? L spent an evening,
which like my day, was restless and
lonely. But when the morning came
again l did make my first effort to en-
terrain myself, to force myself from
the hectic life I had led. Perhaps |
was not woman enough, though, Just
yet. l had not cultivated sufficient re-
sources within myself. That very day
saw me desperate and. calling on the
telephone man whom i had thought
beneath my contempt, a man whom l
had believed / never would wish to see
again. 1t was Mr.. Levy, my former
employer who had given me a dress
and whom my mother had practically
ordered from our home.
My heart beat fast as l stood hold
ing the receiver of the telephone to
my ear. What would he say? At least
/ was determined TO be very gracious;
TO imply that / was sorry if my treat
ment had been unkind or hasty. |
might even. if l were driven to it, sug-
gest that l was willing to make
amends. Anything for a few hours of
light and laughter such as l craved
even as a drunkard Graves wine. Pres
emily l heard Mr.. Levy's voice coming
to me over the wire. .'
This is Di," l said. Diana. Do you
remember me?" a... -~a
There was a pause.
"Oh. yes" said Mr. Levy, acidly, 81
remember you very Welt"
Again there was a pause. l realized
it was l who would have to make the
first advance. y
Il thought perhaps" l suggested,
you would be willing to take me out
to dinner"
Almost at once Mr.. Levy answered.
"Oh, you did, did you:" he said. "Ev-
identity you think l am more of a fool
than | am! Oh, no, my dear! I'm the
singed cat! l don't go near the fire
twice. You ought to be proud! You are
one of the very few girls who did me,
but l never let the same girl do me
twice."
"Oh. how dare you 1 gasped
A curt laugh came to me over the
phone
well, what did you call me up for
if you didn't want to hear it?" said Mr..
Levy and hung up the receiver.