Beverly banner. [volume] (Beverly, N.J.) 1877-1964, 1925-09-25
Prudence's Daughter

Mimi especially. / feel she is coming
when she starts up the last flight of
stairs, and begin to see cross-eyed
right away You are the incest kid"
After that, Jerry took entire charge
of Theresa's room and Theresa's be-
longings, sorting out soiled bits of silk
for the laundry, things Theresa had
overlooked for months, and washing
out especially fine pieces with her own
hands.
"Oh, Theresa" she said one day, 81
wish you were my sister,"
"Oh, good heavens"
"Yess do. / had little brother,
but he died. cannot remember him.
oh, 1 do wish you were my sister!
Then / should be satisfied just to live
on this way and take care of you and
do little things for you. l should feel
l was very important, indeed-you do
paint such exquisite things, Theresa
I should be so proud of you. I'd prob,
ably take all the credit for everything
you do, and brag about the way l
brought you up"
Jerry laughed gleefully at this pic
ture of herself, but Theresa did not
join her merriment.
Funny thing, Jerry, but you are the
first person in the world-the first
woman-who ever wanted me for any,
thing-friend, foe, or fellow citizen. 1
think / must be quite getting on in
the world, to have somebody craving
me for-anything. l feel quite stuck
up about it,"
She put her brushes down abruptly
and went out of the room without
apology, and Jerry, with that new wis.,
dom of hers which was only Intuition
and not the least understanding, went
on with the papers she was filing and
paid no attention when she went, nor
when she came again.
Jerry went about great deal, some
times with Mimi She was not fond
of Mimi, but enjoyed her immensely
She was constant source of gay de-
light, with her pretty vanities and
boosted conquests, where Theresa was
like brooding pain to her. She
wept aloud over soul and body-worn
Theresa.
Duane Allerton sent her flowers.
Rhoda, in such a case, would have
tossed them from her window in holv
scorn. Theresa would have crushed
them to crumpled petals between her
bare hands, the thorns of them pric-
ing her skin to crimson. Jerry looked
at them, gave them to Mimi. He wrote
to her. Jerry read the notes, and tore
them up. She never thought of re-
turning them to him. unopened, al
though she knew from whom they
came. That would have been too dra-
matte, too theatrical, for her. The
waste basket served her purpose we'll
enough.
One afternoon she saw him She
was dancing at tea at the Biltmore
with Mimi and two young friends of
hers, boys fresh from college. One
was cubbishly infatuated with Jerry,
and she. in mischief, had set herself
to tantalize him to the limit of her
charm. In the midst of her pretty
coquetry she looked up suddenly, and
saw Duane AllertOn at a table across
from them, sitting with woman, very
lovely, very sophisticated, very young.
"Francy," Jerry thought at once.
Mimi would have redoubled her atten-
lions to the young admirer, to whet
Allerton's interest, to stir his jealousy.
Jerry could not do that, she did not
even think Of it. She yielded to the
natural hush that swept over her at
seeing him, and sat, subdued an
softened figure, with the others at the
table. She knew his eyes remained
steadily on her face. She knew no
marveled that she permitted the silly
exaggeration of this ardent boys de-
votion, and yet repulsed his own more
finished advances. Jerry herself did
not know why she did.