Evening star., 1921-06-19

- other excuse for her amazinf
lack Of what our grandmother!
call good common sense
She lived a life that would have de-
stroyed q strong man of the Victorian
era. She never went to bed before two
and she rose invariably at six to ride ir
Central Park. After breakfast she
walked up and down 9th avenue. nosins
10 and out of shops and galleries. with
the inquisitive, alert. shivery manner
of young pointer. She always
lunched in the noisiest restaurant she
could find In the afternoon she danced
Or skated. getting home in time to
dress hurriedly for a dinner party
where she danced again.
V" She was pretty. but she had no
heart. She was far too pretty and too
busy to think about her heart. and. as
a result, wasn't bothered by falling in
love or by the disturbing Subtleties OF
The game of sentimental hide-and-seek.
She was as cool and as imperSonal as
a dryad-a notwithstanding dryad
frfsking in and out of marble lobhies.
scented tea rooms, theaters and skat-
ing rinks. Somewhere in the back of
her mind was the thought: IF I stop.
i shall realize how absurd / am. I'm
afraid to stop"
So she went on, running a race and
not with happiness. but with amuse-
ment. And amusement wore the face
of a satyr. while happiness stayed out
of sight like an elusive and desirable
faun. Whenever Rita felt the panGs
of discomfort she fancied that she was
bored, and bought a new hat or a fur
ccat to assuaCe the pain.
DITA had a father. and her father.
A\ being the director of railway. a
millionaire. and fifty-five years old.
was also no fool. For long time he
had watched Rita friskins among the
patted palm forests Of Manhattan-at
first with humor. because she was so
young to be so wise: like a kitten
sharpening it's claws--then with pity.
and finally with genuine alarm. He
realized that he saw her only at break
fast. Now and then he glimpsed her
from the windows Of the University
Club-a fashionable young person
wrapped in furs to the tip of her
piquant nose. her head held high. her
eyes rejecting the prismatic briiliance
of 5th avenue.
On those occasions Mr.. Blanchard
sighed. He wanted Rita to be happy,
and, reasoning backward to his youth
marriage sisnified happiness. 1t dis
treSSed MIR. Blanchard to watch Rita
revolving like a squirrel in a cage.
Other girls married. But what in
thunder could he do? 1t is no longer
the custom to push reluctant maidens
into matrimony.
Once he said to her: Rita. isn't it
about time you settled DOWN."
Settled down?'
Isn't there some young man -
Rita's eyes opened wide. You silly
old dear" she said. don't be roman
tic"
IL want you to be happy"
She got up from the table. kissed
the top Of his head. and laughed. I'm
Perfectly happy. Why on earth should
fall in love- It's so uncomforta Bile
always worrying about how you look,
and whether he'll be pleased. and hav-
Ing to toe the sentimental mark
Honor and obey! No. I'm happier as
i am
Mr.. Blanchard knew better. No
Woman in the world is happy who
has not looked life in the face. and
Rita was lodging the Ysissue. The
music Of the woFld;Was. .droWped out
by the throbbing tom-tom Of the
jazz. And Mr.. Blanchard put in some
serious half hours wondering about
right and wrong This gilded Squirrel
cage couldn't be, reality; foxtrotting
couldn't be the ultimate aim of exist
ence. Rita had Slipped away from him
while he bargained in the market
place. Dissipated? So was he. then!
Drunk on directorships. =.
= Nj. Rlanchar rd's office uas nm the