The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1918-01-31
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you're fourth on the programme. I'm
going down now to see about the tick
ets" and she hurried off.
Then Warren came in looking very
big and handsome and well groomed.
Like many men, he hated to get into
a dress suit and compromised on n
Tuxedo when the occasion was not too
formal.
Ready, Kitten?"
Helen flushed with pleasure. kit
ten"-was one of the most affectionate
names for her and one he rarely used
now. With a woman's quick Intuition,
she knew it was because she was pe-
comingly gowned and looked unusually
young and girlish. The desire to make
him admit this, to hear him put 1t into
words was irresistible, so she asked
Nhyly:
do look all right, dear?"
First rate!" which from him was
extravagant praise.
Impulsively she ran to him and laid
her flushed cheek against his cool,
starched shirt front.
BE careful! You'll get powder all
over my coat"
mo, won't. Do let me stay here
moment I'm so frightened about
singing want to feel some of your
strength" and she put her hand to
his shoulder and tugged at his sus-
pender, a trick OF hers TO which ne
submitted with the indifference Of a
big Newfoundland dog to ward off
child playing with it's collar.
"Oh, dear, I'm almost sorry I prom
Used would, II should break down,
oh. it would be dreadful
Nonsense! Youth do as well as the
rest of them," and he shook her off
and examined the lapels OF his coat for
traces of powder.
t'Oh, there is little, just wee bit"
Wait" and she reached for a
brush Quickly she brushed it off,
picked a long, shining hair from his
sleeve, Strengthened his tie and then
drew his head down and kissed him on
the neck.
With unusual tolerance he admitted
to these attentions. There was a
thrill of mingled joy and pain in Hell
ems heart. Was it only when she
looked particularly attra ctive that he
was willing to be purred over?
Down Stairs.
Yet how little difference his ap-
pearance made to her. Her love was
always the same Whether he was In
bath robe, a smokbg jacket, without
his collar and in his stockinged feet,
Ia most unalluring combination) or
warm or dusty and travel stained. TO
her nothing mattered 1t was the
man she loved.
Now come on down." as she turned
to the mirror for the finishing touches
to her hair. You're all right"
Downstairs they found everything
in the buzz of final preparation. AL
most all the seats were already filled,
and Mrs. Stevens in her black chiffon
evening gown was sweeping officious-
ly about, radiant with the success of
her plans.
The first number was a piano solo
by Miss Haskell, the second a mando-
lin duet by two college boys, and the
third a darkey song by Mrs. Stevens.
Helen. who was sitting beside War
rem toward the back of the room,
slipped a cold little hand into his. As
the time for her own number drew
near her heart beat faster and faster
What if she should break down-be-
come panic stricken before all these
people,
Although it was only an informal
benefit concert. yet she could not have
been more frightened nor could 1t have
seemed more vitality important had it
been her debut in grand opera.
Helen Sings.
At last Mrs. Stevens announced:
"A Summer Night" a soprano solo by
Mrs. Warren Curtis"
Warren released her hand with a
strong, comforting pressure, and rose
to let her pass into the aisle
When from the little impromptu
platform Helen confronted the rows of
faces everything blurred before her
never knew. AS a matter of fact she
did not sing it very well, and the ap-
plause that followed was far more a
tribute to her delicate girlish person
ality than to the song itself.
But when she started De Kovens |
VIII o. the Wisp' out of the blur |
before her she had found Warren. But |
what was that look Of his steady steel I
gray eyes? disappointment?
Forgetting everyone else she now /
sang to him. The nervous tremor had /
left her voice and it was rarely sweet |
and clear: not powerful. but with an |
plaintive appeal. With each
verse there seemed a sweet cadence in |
her notes, and when she finished II
was amid wild applause.
AS she hurriedly stepped from the