Evening star., 1926-05-16


with a pint bottle Of ginger ale
i leaning rakishly against 1t. Bar.
bara closed the top door and
opened the big door below. On one
side were two tomatoes. half a head
Of lettuce, a triangle of cold steak
and some cold boiled beets. On the
other she saw a quart of milk, nan
a. pint of cream, some mayonnalse IN
a cereal bowl, a small piece of cheese
and saucer of lard-and so little
butter.
She had thought that at least she
could make sandwiches. But if she
did make them for that mob in there,
the children wouldn't have enough
butter for breakfast.
The swinging door from the pantry
opened and Alan appeared. He filled
the doorway with his big. healthy
body. expansive with hospitality, the
softening of a smile around his
friendly eyes.
Don't go TO any trouble will you,
dear? Just pick up anything. They
all know it's informal. We didn't
have any idea of stopping when we
left the motion picture. but this is a
lot nicer than a restaurant. Give
them anything"
But there isn't anything
Coffee"
You've got to have something with
coffee, and if make sandwiches there
won't be enough butter for break
fast"
Alan appeared to think.
Give them crackers, then" Before
she had time to demur he bent and
kissed the top of her head.
Just don't bother. dear. Anything
will do The swing door swished as
he went back to the living room.
Barbara pursed her lips without
paying any attention. She got out
loaf Of bread and cut it swiftly into
clean, thin slices, thinned the cream,
and used some of it in the may
onnaise. For 20 minutes she went
from stove to ice box, from bread
box to cake box. Two big glass trays
standing in the kitchen table began
to be filed. Coffee, tomato sand
wiches (hoW far YOU could stretch two
tomatoes. two Spanish onions and
some mayonnaise.-it took hardly
any butter), tray of fruit cake eked
out with cookies, sugar, cream.
She carried the first tray into the
living room, and Alan jumped up to
take it from her.
The living room was warm and
bright. Barbara, looking up from her
coffee pouring. saw how much they
all were enjoying its comfort, the
wood fire behind the twisted brass
andirons, the chairs. each chosen for
comfort and placed with grace. the
low tables Just within reach for ash
trays or coffee cups. Her mind leaped
ahead past the present comfort to
the thought of its continuation and
improvement.
The curtains really needed renew
ing. Six more months and they would
be shabby She regarded them Spe
culatively while the others went on
talking and laughing and eating. II
was time, she thought vaguely. that
people began to go home. Past mid
night She was glad to see someone
get up at last and move toward the
door.
Alan stood on the front porch, lis
tening to the starting of each chug
ging engine as the final act of watch
ful hospitality. His wife did not share
his concern. Already she had begun
to take the dishes out to the pantry,
getting rid of the ugly debris, sodden
cigarettes swimming in pale tan
coffee.
"They had a great time" Alan said,
entering the kitchen. You're not 60
ing TO wash those things tonight, are
you?'
II must. I'd rather wash them than
see Sarah's cross face in the morning.
Besides. l was using my best Spode.
and I don't like to let it lie around
with the breakfast dishes. Something
might get broken
Then let me help
"No. Go to bed. You're tired Alan.
and you need to get up early. I'd
rather do it alone. It's really
quicker
The house grew very still down
stairs. Barbara washed each piece of
china carefully and polished it with
her fine linen cloths. Everything
about Barbara was fine and we'll kept
up, like her dish towels. She never
allowed herself to get slovenly. There
was never anything of hers that was
not we'll taken care of, except. per-
haps, the face that was reflected in
her glass pantry doors. 1t had been
a pretty face.
Barbara was one of the medium
brown, size IS girls. who make city
streets in the United States so eXcit
ing, trim OF wrist and neck and ankle,
with plenty of soft brown hair and a
complexion which had enough color
without ever being florid. A face
which an hour of gayety or night
of romance could make charming or
even beautiful, and also a face which
10 years of close concentration on
clothes and curtains and housekeeping
and children's manners could make
strangely intent and yet strangely
blank. Barbara was on her way to
becoming a thin, middle-aged woman,
one of those whose children speak of
her with respect and affection, and
whose virtues are summed up after
death in conventional phrases.
Everything was immaculate at last.
Barbara S feet ached as she went up
stairs. Alan was already in bed. He
looked at her commiseratingly. put
ting down the book he was reading.
You shouldn't have gone to so
much trouble, Barbara. You are worn
out
I'm all right" said Barbara wear
lily She got ready for bed. That
didn't take long. But the children
had to be inspected, their three little