Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-01-18
Where Did
You Lunch?
By Annabel Wade
By Annabel Wade.

Copyright, 1917, by the Mcclure Newspa-
per syndicate.l
"Hello, Bob" d
"Oh, hello, Jane"
Bob, mother just telephoned from
the country that she's coming to town
for the day, and I'm going to meet
her. CANE you have lunch with us?"
"Why, yes, I guess SO. Where?'
"At the Ivey Lane tearoom-you
know, in Thirty-ninth street. We've
been there"
"Oh, yes; one of those frothy,
lwhipped-cream places-I know!"
"Well, it's all right, Bob-and moth
ier loves their chicken pies"
Tn awfully sorry, Jane, but I've
thought of something. I'm afraid I
can't make it. I've just thought of
Isomething-an engagement, you know.
A business engagement, dear, that I
can't very well break"
"Why, Bob, how funnyi First you
said yes and then you said no. You
have to have some lunch, don't your"
Eyes, but I'll just run in my usual
place. It's right In this block, you
know"
"But, Bob, please come !"
II tell you I can't"
81 think you're perfectly horrid, to
spoil my day like thatl"
"Oh, for goodness sake, don't begin
that. 1 don't see what difference lunch
makes. If you're crazy to have me
lunch with you, why don't you come
down to my placer"
II wouldn't have lunch with you for
anything, Bob Lane. Crazy to lunch
with you'll I should say notl Not in
that greasy little Italian table d'hote
place, anyway"
snow, Jane, don't go and get all
excited
But Jane had snapped back the re-
clever on the hook and she heard no
more. With wrathful thoughts she
hurried into her coat and furs and left
the little apartment, where, is she
thought sadly, Bob and she had so
lately had a delightful breakfast. She
hurried downtown to meet her mother.
1t was a preoccupied Jane who
shopped that morning, and usually
Jane liked shopping. That was why
Mrs. Carter, her mother, had tele-
phoned that she wanted to buy new
furnishings for the living room in her
country house and wanted Jane to
help in selecting them.
whats the matter, Jane?" asked
Mrs. Carter, as they made their way
from n Of the shops to the Ivy Lane.
you haven't taken a bit Of interest
in anything we've DONE"
"Im just upset about Bob. He's
acting so strange, mother. He would
not have lunch with us today"
Maybe he had an engagement. You
know the Ivy Lane is a mile or so
from his Office" $
But first he said he would and then
ed that way before"
probably the poor boy is rushed to
death and just can't take time. Do
be sensible, Jane"
"But, MOTHER" explained Jane, "he
called the Ivy Lane a horrid, old,
Afrothy, frivolous place, or something
like that. 1 think that was hateful"
Mrs. Carter laughed. "Men never
like tea rooms" she said. "Where
does he usually go?"
ooh, to a grubby little italian table
d'hote down in Eighteenth street."
swell, let's go down there and sur
prise him. He probably just couldn't
stand the thought of l%unching in a
tea room, crowded with a lot of shop
pers. There aren't many men usually
at the Ivy Lane, you know"
$50 you suppose that was it," James
face cleared a little. ST thought he
just didn't want to lunch with me.
But maybe that 1t is. Oh, mother.
you're wonderful. Let's go right down
to Eighteenth street."
Jane was buoyant. Bob himself had
suggested that they meet him at the
table d'hote, she remembered. Yet for
a little while she had almost felt jeal-
Gus of Bob. Jealous! Of Bobl The
idea was absurd. And, anyway, what
was there to make her jealous because
Bob hadn't wanted to lunch with her?
A few minutes later a Jane with
spirits restored to their usual cheerful
pitch walked down the two or three
steps that led from the sidewalk level
to the italian table d'hote where Bob
lunched daily. Jane had been there
before, and as the savory odor of the
stew on which the chef Of the little
place specialized me- her nostrils she
suddenly saw Bob's objection to the
whipped-cream sort of lunch she usual
ly got when shopping. A good sub
sstantial meat dish-that did make a
more staying lunch for a man. And
as she served corn bread and whole
wheat mullins for breakfast and tried
to have fish several times a week for
dinner, she couldn't blame Bob for
indulging in a luncheon each day that