The Omaha morning bee., 1924-11-29

rich; they forgot birth and breeding
and pursued money: sickened of it
and went back to birth; narcotized
their puzzled brains with alcohol and
the hope of sudden wealth. They
sought new and preferably exotic
jobs; they fiocked to the theater, they
set up shops. they played the Stock
Exchange, they apprenticed them
selves as motor car salesmen and
plumbers assistants. Most of their
enterprises went to pot, and none OF
them kept them in town over week.
ends; but always, over all the doubt
and disappointment, they kept up a
clipper of persi1age. thoroughly mon
dain, frankly superficial and, In its
pathetic courageous way, highly
diverting.
| The Newells spent their first week
end with score of them as the
| guests of one Sir Joseph Johnson. a
| matchmaker, whom the war had
made rich. lie had fat, genial wife
and a large early Victorian house on
the Thames near Reading as he made
no pretense at being better than he
was. and spent freely, his house par
| ties were we'll attended. On the Fri
day afternoon the two were turned
loose, without introductions, In a
huge hall where people were having
tea. Kit was instantly taken in
charge by a small creature in black
with yellow hair and long jet ear
rings. She looked like Maude Adams
and talked like Alfred Jingle, and
as she talked her blond eyebrows were
continually raised to an incredibly
high arch.
| UIJour J',oir dol Como oyar and off
| by me. Tea? Been to Lords lately?
What. don't like cricket? . ;.
Oh, 'mericanl Fancy Ripping-Edie,
angel? :. Neva mind now. I've got
an American. 'Mericans don't know
cricket. Fancy! Where shall we go
now? I say, are you married?'
| Yes" said Kit, smiling, "and my
names Newell, but you might as well
call me Kit right Off"
| angelic of you My names vi.
But how 'pallingly dull of you to be
married. Spoil your weekend, won't
! it? Howeva,'
Kit laughed out, everything about
her so plainly said Come on, boysi'
He explained that he was on his
| honeymoon. but that he would be
brother to her; he was told in return
that he was a duck, a seraph, an an
gel. rather a silly; that she was
widow, but not averse to lark.
| 1t was clear that she was the focal
female figure in the gathering. Peo-
pie came up as she sat there, and
she sent them off, teased them, patted
them on the head, insulted them, all
with a sure light touch that made
| them come again.
"Tibby darling. Bridge? Righto-
but I've lost my eyeglass. VIII you
angel Queenie. what a cherubic
scarf Love scarfs-Victorian Ed
wardian, then. Bertie, seraph, take
me on the river tonight? Moonlight.
Italian lakes. Lamartine.-No moon?
Tarsome of it. Tarsome of you to
know. D'you know, some ones got
to find my hankie. Angel-yes-hall,
think. Don't bother. Bertie's gone
after it. My eyeglass-archangel'
Where was it-you asked my maid?
l say, did you kiss her? Ha ha, Yes,
simply 'palling, isn't she? Can't af
| ford pretty one. BERTHE, angel
but s not the right one. Billiard
room, perhaps. Coronet. Viscountess.
Sorry, Berts, in for bridge. Tfb you
carry me?"
She was interested to learn that
| Kit was friend of Boon. and spent
the first evening in the business OF
drawing him out on the subject. She
had heard of Cora. and was relieved
/ to discover that she was not fabu-
| lously rich; but she remained ner-
yous, having a constitutional dread
of American female charm. 1t be.
came quite clear to Kit. as to every
one else within a five-mile radius, that
she was strongly attracted toward
| Boon.
you see, Kit. there's this. Tbs
| (Boon's baptismal name was Tibbald,
speIt Theobald) now has a fairish
change of succeeding TO Quayne. His
most dangerous uncle-F. o. man.
charming-has just died. No issue.
| Next uncle's a moron. Shut up. keep
ers and things. Pretty safe-though
he might sneak off to a registry.
Quayne himselfs simply doting. Wild
over. Only son died last year. Davos.
| Tubercular joints. F'rightful. That
leaves only Tibs and his father. And
Quayne's well off. Hasn't sold his
place, at least. Well. see? Good
enough-but just as good for Cora,
WHAT"
Il don't think Cora cares much
Tor MIN, SAID hlt. w nat snt y dltei
| is peer and a rich one. See mere.
| IL you asked Cora over here, and gave
| her shot at a peer or two, | don't
think she'd stand in your way about
Boon. Why not try it,
This he thought sensible PROPOSE
tlon. or at least quite sensible enough
to appeal to the mind OF its recipient.
but Lady Fieldes tshe spelt It ffieldesl
| qaapnod dtcirclipa6 IN act on IL She
said he was a cherub, ficked her ear.
rings, dropped her gold cigaret case.
Ca~orJ Iouou~oor.