The Ely miner., 1924-02-15

Bad Influence on Dorothy.
seemed, whenever his eyes fell upon
her, to be having not only jolly time,
but to be making, especially with the
pool, most Of the time before lunch,
getting taught, enthusiastically, to
swim.
After lunch he lost sight Of her for
while, but she turned up, just as he
was beginning to wonder abont her, in
the company of white-fianneled
youngster with whom she seemed on
very good terms. He had dark-red
curly hair; his features, without being
Insignificant, were small and fine, so
that he'd have made an unusually
pretty girl, though his build was sturdy
enough. He walked with a well-
marked limp.
Joe heard him call her Trixie, and
took his first opportunity to ask, not
of the girl herself, who he was. His
informant was Mrs. Hugh Corbett.
"He's Lansing Ware" she told him.
but stopped at that, short Of giving
him any further details.
Joe asked If he'd been wounded in
the Var, and noted momentary hesi-
tation about her reply.
HE was IN the air service" she said.
"He got that stiff ankle in an accident
at his training-camp, quite early. I
don't know exactly what it was"
Joe asked no more questions about
his daughters cavalier. The boy was
placed, implicitly, as one Of the "regu-
lar'' people he wanted her to know.
and that "Trixie," along with his
rather intimate way with her, was, as
far as he could see, merely part and
parcel Of the manners current here.
Driving home with her that after
noon, after a few miles Of thoughtful
silence, he told her she needn't, unless
she liked to, go to Cape Cod with Mar
garet-oh. perhaps for week or two
later
The visit had not produced quite the
sort of step in his acquaintance with
Violet that he'd looked forward to.
But Joe hadn't felt sighted. Even her
unconcern had suggested certain
friendliness, and, on the terrace after
lunch, she'd openly made an opportu-
nifty for talk with him.
+ His first sight Of her that morning
had affected him powerfully, too, re.
newing the beRildered ineredulity, the
| discovers excitement. and the strong
sensuous attraction that he'd felt the
| morning she appeared at the traps.
She was IN the pool when he and Bea-
trice arrived, among the earliest of the
days visitors, and 1t was literally true
that, for :. moment, after she'd climbed
the ladder at the deep end and come
TO greet them, he didn't know her. The
tight blue-rubber bathing-cap which
confined her hair, and the clinging wet
sheen Of the swimming g-suit. no more
ample than one her daughter would
have worn, triumphantly challenged
youth itself. She'd smiled at his stare.
and laughed at his explanation of 1t
Dorothy, who had escorted them down
from the house, said, dispassionately.
| to Beatrice, you see how hopeless
1t is. Now do you wonder Fsdon't call
her mother?"
| His vision of Violet-revealed, Di.
ana-like, finer and whittier and silkier
| than his Imagination would have dared
pretend, persisted. 1t was not far In
the background of his thoughts while
they talked on the terrace. Yet this
sensuous appeal was not the only. nor.
perhaps, the strongest, she'd made to
him. He'd enjoyed the friendly good
humor of her ready laugh; her sallies
of what might pass, unscrutinized, for
wit; her light-handed way of redispos
| ing people when the old groupings
were growing little stale-she took
1T easier than Margaret and therefore
did ii better.