Evening star., 1926-10-10


of my. own
Bill tasted it. then turned to her ad-
miringly.
You're n wonder. How do you do
it?"
With the reverent pride Of the Gre
ator she told him the secret of the
salad dressing. and Bill totted it all
'lown in his note book. After that
he gave him many intimate details
,bout food-deep, luscious conf
dences. inspiring. fascinating. myste
rious, to which Bill listened worship
fully. He dreaded to finish his coffee
and cigarette because it put SO de-
ctsive a period to their conversation.
"You'l have to listen to some
music, I'm afraid" she said with a
sigh as they rose with the others.
Il won't mind" he assured her, IF
you'll stay near me. If it goes, over
my head I get sleepy. I always do
and l start to yawn. Those terrible
ones that you can't control
George Eliot Quinn looked at him
with n hin, of tenderness and
laughed. Such AN honest admission
was refreshing. There had been so
many pretenGers in the house of
Quinn.
NpII lCdfS Sou, AoS oiCo
him. Bill started slightly. That was
the second time she had said
with premonitory emphasis that she
wouldn't leave him. She was a
Quinn. The germs of genius were in
her blood and she was very young.
The thing might crop out in her when
you least expected 1t.
II would never do to fall in love
with her. and seeing too much of her
might make it impossible not to. She
seemed so completely perfect. but----
Come on" she urged, laying
hand on Bills sleeve. ''Ill sit near
you. and If you yawn I'll pinch you
Violently"
Bill looked down at the hand on his
sleeve. It was soft and pink. gentle
petal Of a hand, kind. loving thing
to hold against ones face, to stroke
ones hair. Quite invOluntarily he
patted 1t and found the warmth of 1t
comforting Then he followed her
contentedly into the music room.
A MONTH or so later. Bill told his
"A friend and advertising mana
ger, Jim Barker. that he was going
to marry the seventh Quinn. Barker
received the great news with sol
emn shake Of his head.
"Bill. my boy, it won't do he said
heavily. George Eliot is a nice girl
and a marvellous cook, but she's none
the less a Quinn. How do you know
she won't up and write the great
American novel or paint the great
American picture? And then where
will you be? You'll be merely George
Eliot Quinn's husband. And the
chances are you'll have to be very re-
spectful to her and call her Mr..
Eliot"
Bill laughed.
There's not an ounce Of the deadly
poison in her entire system" he de-
c!ared shes a normal person. If
il weren't for her those other poor
nuts in her family would probably
starve to death. She runs that house.
Keeps 'em comfortable and has done
it ever since she was kid. What
they'll do when she leaves them
Heaven knows"
Yes. suppose the old man will
never do another portrait worth a
hang" said Barker wittily, after she
and her salads are gone. And her
mothers essays will turn into bed
time stories. and Brother Philip will
start to sculp Charlie Chapllns FOR
the souvenir Stores--juSt as little
George takes away their Scotch
broths and caramel custards. Artists
must be fed. l admit, Bill, but they
are not half so concerned with food
and the creature comforts as the
layman like yourself"
You're right, Jim." agreed Bill. a
touch of unwonted intensity in his
tone. mo one can know that better
than do. My mother wrote and my
father painted" He paused, then
went on determinedly. when the
muse hit mother we didn't eat. and
I'd hate to tell YOU what happened
when il hit father. The place was
full Of creators from morning until
night They ate lettuce sandwiches
and drank tea and smoked. l was
getting lettuce sandwiches and tea
when l should have been having oat-
meal and milk.
Mother finally broke out with a
best.seller. 1t sent me to college, but
It put ideas In mothers head. She
ran away with poet. Father got
some real emotions out of his paint
after that. But he didn't last long.
Art and lnalnutrition finished him.
The poet used up mothers money and
she-well. she's gone. too. Now.
finished Bill. after moment. you
know how sure / am Of this girl
am going to marry, Quinn or no
Quinn"
Barker was too deeply impressed
to reply. lie went out and left Bill
to his own thoughts.
After few months of dining and
darcing, motoring and theaters.
George Eliot and Bill bought a
charming little house in a not too
young real estate development. fur
nisl,ed II with loving care. and were
married 4 lot of celebrities came to
the wedding. but Bill was not much
Impressed, knowing neither them nor
their works, and. anyway. George
Eliot was on that day the loveliest
thing that ever wore q white veil. and
B!ll saw but little else.
The wedding was conventional af-
fair with ushers and bridesmaids and
Ieception--il great relief. admitted
Agnes Proteus Quinn, essayist and
critic. because 1t was so definite.
Her other children, she confided to
Bill. had been terribly original in
their ways Of marrying, and their
ideas had not worked out as success
fully as YOU might suppose, consider
ing the amount Of careful reasoning
that went into them.
II would be interesting. commented
the brides father. to see if George
Eliot's contract would be more bind
ing than that Of her sister Miriam.
who. having a gift for free verse. had
written her own marriage lines.
CThese had afterward been published
in Dabney's Monthly and created a
shocking amount of publicity.)
BIZ smiled at all this tolerantly.
He even laughed with the strange
Miriam when she said she supposed
he and George Eliot would be going
TO Niagara Falls for their honey
moon.
Atlantic City" he assured her. and
they laughed together and were quite