The Washington herald., 1917-06-25

Their Married Life" produced by
Mabel Herbert Urner for your years.
The Married Life of Helen and
Warren" appearing exclusively I'm
this paper, II the only series now
being written by Mabel Herbert
Urner.
But they may not have any rooms"
worried Helen. as they drove slowly
back in the crippled car to the road
house they had just passed.
"Oh, they can put US up for the
night" shrugged Warren.
"If we could only get back to Sum-
merstown," fretted Carrie. WED get
a train in.'
Cant do it-that's over three
miles" Lawrence, his face frowningly
anxious in the moonlight. was steer
ing the damaged car.
At a sharp turn, to avoid a roadster
that had failed to sound its horn, he
had swerved too far to the right and
crashed into a tree.
The lights from the road-house
streamed out through the black shrub
Sery, and now as they drew nearer
they caught the twang Of mandolins.
Green Cock Tavern" was the sign
over the gate. A dozen cars were
lined up in the yard. and through the
open windows they glmpsed the
crowded tables within
"I'n see what they can do, for u.s."
Warren leaped out and up the steps
tits just our luck, complained
Carrie. waiting on the veranda with
Helen. while Lawrence ttnkered with
the car. Last month We had to buy
knows what thisrl cost!''
20 X" as Warren reappeared
They've got a couple of rooms
nothing fancy but they'll do. How
d'you feel? Want a bite before we
go up?'
"Oh, no-not after that dinner" pro-
tested Helen, with prudent economy.
well, We'll have Eomething to drink,
anyway as Lawrence Joined them.
ITS early yet-only ten thirty"
In the hot. noisy. over-lighted dining
room they took the one vacant table.
1t was in the sitting rear by the
pantry door through which perspirinS
walters swung back and forth
'Oh, this Is torrid% objected Car
rie. DO we have to sit here?'
Don't see anything else. do you?
snapped her usually mild-tempered
husband. still brooding over his car.
Two Scotch high balls and two
cIaret lemonades. That right?" DE-
nanded Warren as he gave the order.
It was the usual Saturday night
roadhouse crowd. Champagne buckets
stood by almost every table, while
ISbsters and dishes zen casserole"
seemed the popular order. Three
white-garbed darkies with strident
mandoIins furnished the music.
Stirring the fruit in her lemonade,
Helen watched the next table where
a man burnt matches under an in
verted plate, and then on the smoke
bIackened surface drew grotesque
caricatures of the rest of the party.
A burst of merriment greeted each
sketch.
The waiter appearing with their
check now diverted Helen's attention.
Surely Warren would not Pay this!
He had paid for the dinner at the
Cross Road Inn. 1t was not fair-it
was Lawrence's turn. But having
captured the check, Warren drew out
his wallet.
l. ResentfuIIy Helen glanced across at
Carrie. The complacent air she al
ways assumed when some one else
paid the bill was most exaspeTating.
The gayety was at its height, and
several newcomers were in the hail
waiting for tables, when a little later
they made their way up the narrow
stairs.
It had been an old-fashioned farm
house, and while the first floor was
much altered, with widened verendas
and added wings for the restaurant
and kitchen, the second story was un-
changed.
I'VE rarely have guests over night,
apologized the manager as he opened
the coors of adjoining rooms. I'm
afraid this ones rather small for two
but 1t has a three-quarter bed.
"Oh, that's all right-we'Il take
that" offered Warren.
mo, you don't" objected Law
renee. You stay where you
are" for the manager, sensing
Warren would pay the bill, had
ushered him into the larger room.
Both Helen and Carrie feebly
protested that it didn't matter
which room they had, but Law
renee was firmly insistent.
With yawning lassitude Warren
started to undress, while Helen,
taking out her hair pins, inve1-
toried the room. The bed. bu-
reau, washstand and two chairs
were shiningly new and cheap, in
discordant contrast to the quaint
dormer window and sloping cell
ing. An unshaded. high-poweEed
bulb gave a hard, glaring light
which added to the heat.
There. isn't that better?" as
she drew up the halting window
shade and turned OF the light,
leaving the room in cooling dark
ness. sufficiently lit by the glow
from the yard.
where's the soap?" Warren
emptied half the pitcher into the
blue-banded bowl.