The Washington herald., 1917-11-12

OdAhCu against lIlc ECCClFcT ulSC.
You don't expect me to call you
that?" Then abruptly. I'm not 60
ing to talk to you over the phone.
Can't 1 see this afternoon?'
Can you have tea with me here?"
What timer frankly eager. -Four
thirty? I'll be there on the minute.'
The next few hours Helen spent in
deliberate stage setting. So few
romantic situations ever came her
way that her starved theatric in
stinct determined to make the most
of this
She went down to luncheon for the
sole purpose of making a careful sur
vey Of the dining room, that she
might reserve for tea the most de-
sirable table. A becoming back
ground the main essential, she chose
corner by q mirrored panel, not
too near the window-the glow from
the shaded table lamp being more
complimentary than the cold day.
light.
The rest of the afternoon she spent
in shampooing her hair, doing her
nails, massaging her face-and re-
hearsing her role
Her objective. of course, was to ap-
pear more attractive and more de-
sirable now than as a mere girl. 1t
Is the objective of every woman
when she meets an old admirer,
though few would be honest enough
to admit 1t.
Was he married? On that point
her mothers letter had been ag-
gravatingly unenlightening. Not that
it mattered-but she would like to
know.
Long before 4 o'clock she was
dressed. Turning on all the lights
she studied her mirrored reflection.
1t was fiatteringly reassuring.
The blue Georgette was most be-
coming. After much indecisIon she
decided against wearing a hat. Her
hair brushed softly back was more
youthful.
Outside the sky was overcast, but
Helen welcomed the leaden grayness.
1t would mean that the dining-room
would be aglow with lights, which
would add to the allurement OF her
background.
1t was Just half-past four when
the telephone rang and Mr.. Bolton
was announced. With a final glance
AZ 1lAC ohO uOWIt
athrill with the anticipation Of a
romantic hour.
Stepping from the elevator on the
scious confusion. A stout, fiorid man
be Guy Bolton7 AL day she had
been picturing a slim figure In white
dannels.
II
constrained. Until they were seated
in the restaurant, Helen was hardly
conscious of what she said. The or
of, she met his admiring gaze with
deepening color.
You're wonderful" he leaned for
ward. You don't look day older"
It's the shaded lights" she laugh
ed, surprised at her own ease. II
reserved This table on purpose"
You haven't changed the least"
he persisted. I've your picture at
home-the cne by the grape arbor. II
might have been taken yesterday"
Tell me about Mrs. Bolton" she
ventured daringly. Il suppose there
is Mrs. Bolton"
Not yet"
Hurriedly she turned the conyersa-
ton to his vork. Then her thoughts
leaped on rnrestrained. This was
the situation for which she had so
elaborately planned, but now she
found herself cold-critically cold
She thought of the night he had
brought her home from the Tur-
ner's party and fingered at the gate.
She tried to feel something of that
Chz
a touch Of romance. She WANTED
TO thrill-but could not.
Looking At him now she wondered
how she ever could. He could not
be over 80, yet he had grown stout
and his hair was thinning on top.
They talked Of many things-their
home town and the old crowd. now
so widely scattered. The situation
that she had thought would be so
romantic was painfully prosaic. II
was not Guys fault. He tried to play
up to the role she had assigned him
but her lines would not come.
1t was almost six when he left, in
sisting that when she came to st.
Louis again she must let him know
in advance, and promising to dine
with them when he was in New York.
Again in her room, with resentful
disappointment she confronted herseir
In the mirror. She had spent the
whole day in excited preparation-and
for what? For an hour that to her
had been most commonplace-that had
held not the slightest thrill.
Hastily packing the Georgette to
have the trunk ready. she hurried into
her travelling suit. She was changing
her satin slippers for her high brown
boots when Warren breezed in.
HIS tall htheness met her leaping