New Ulm review., 1921-03-30
False and True
BY MARTHA Nc. WILLIAMS

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"Why did they call me Linnet? OF
all names! The rest of the world IS
saddest when I sing!" Linnet Ware
said plaintively to her newest victim,
Selden Moore.
Helaughed, softly answering, Praise
be for that. In this day Of musical
prodigality, you're an oasis"
"In a desert of melody Thanks for
them kind Words" Linnet flung back,
settling herself comfortably in nest
of rainbow cushions. Yet even they
could not make her look washed out,
so vivid was the yellow of her hair,
the violet of her eyes, the healthy
scarlet Of her very perfect mouth.
Her skin had the texture of camel
liza petal-she was further shapely,
and extra we'll finished. There was
n look Of race to accent all this.
What wonder that she had gone
rather to the heads Of her cOuntrymen
at least that moiety of them lucky
enough to know her? This in spite
of the fact that she danced without
enthusiasm, was dub at tennis, and
refused even to look on at golf. Polo
she loved-but sex and convention for
bade playing it. So she took to going
cross-country in any weather, never
flunking the stiffest jumps, nor mind
ing hazardous spills.
The spills were few-she had ap-
parently as much influence over
hunters as over men. Anything
bittable became plant to her will
after a few miles-to the disgust OF
Amazonians horsewomen who got re-
suits with malice aforethought. She
was so confoundedly, so confounded-
ly feminine, with her side saddle. her
soft collar, her picturesquely untidy
tam that had always bright knot
tucked amid it's folds, it was disgust
ing to have her almost always in the
first flight, and not winning prizes
solely through refusing to compete
for them. She mounted herself well
but not extravagantly. "Any good
horse will go-if you get the best in
him." she explained more than once.
Which moved her much tired mother
to add: eff only you'd be as sensible
about men as horses, it would take
load off my mind and heart"
Being interpreted, this meant, con-
cretely, shrinking estate, and the
Wendell King millions. All through
Linnet's bringing up Mrs. Ware had
had the millions in the back Of her
mind. Retrieving them was poetic
justice, since they had been unjustly
diverted from Linnet's father through
his elderly uncle's marriage with the
beautiful Widow King.
He had settled them upon her in
the first flush Of infatuation-when
the pair went down with their ship
upon long wedding tour, the wrong
was put beyond righting. Wendell. a
quiet, kindly, dull-witted lad of fifteen
had inherited them from his mother in
trust for possible children. So it had
been out of his power to do more
than make handsome gifts to the
Wares.
Linnet, an elfin, no-colored child, had
appealed only to his pity until at fif-
teen she blOomed with that beauty of
the devil which works so many evil
miracles. Seeing her round and flush
and glow, his plan Of life changed.
When she was twenty she must marry
him, and begin fairy tale existence.
Until then let her play to her hearts
content-he knew he could trust her
besides, there was her mother.
Mrs. Ware was far from heartless--
indeed, love for her child was the spur
to her worldliness. She said nothing
to Linnet Of the future beyond advis-
ing wise choice if any. She knew
Linnet would rebel against a cut-and-
dried family arrangement-much bet
ter let her continue to think Of Wen
dell as liberal pseudo-kinsman who
regarded her as a child to be teased
and spoiled. When she had had her
fling playing with the youngsters Lin.
net might sensibly drift into love
with her doting fairy godfather.
Linnet showed zest il playing with
the youngsters equal to her zest cross
country, yet until the era Of Selden
Moore her mother had never been the.
least uneasy. For her girl had played
the game with the fine reserve Of a
gentleWoman, making her safety in
numbers and surrounding herself with
an aura Of untouchableness beautiful
to see.
But Moore was different. Toward
him she glowed as a gem, star
often when he had left her she sat
silent, smiling happily or rousing to
hug her mother tight and whisper:
us there anything like real loye?''
Moore was only rich enough to be a
competent idler. Living was, he said,
business enough for gentleman
wherefore why swamp himself with
the risks and the turmoil of active
work, when he was so much more
valuable as an example of moderation?
Linnet scarcely sensed the question.
but her mother pondered it deeply.
To her it meant either that Moore
had no thought of marriage, or that
his wife needs must bring with her
an income equal to his own. Linnet
could not do that-already living ex-
penses were trenching upon their mod