Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1926-02-28

by that time Bulgarian Bet was
screaming at such a rate that moth
ing else mattered much. Elizabeth
could find no external excuse for the
noise and knew that she couldn't be
hungry for another hour.
Il wish you could see yourself,
said Elizabeth. Il do wish you
could see yourself in one Of those
spasms, though you wouldn't appre-
ciate 1T. You haven't any sense.
Doubt If you ever will have-but, II
you should develop. l wonder how
you'll feel about this dirty trick
you've played me. I've got a good
notion to take your picture so and
keep it for evidence"
WITH angry bangs and pushes she
w placed her camera and fired off
few rounds at the screaming child
and when the noise still persisted
after that, Elizabeth vented her de-
spair in some tears Of her own.
NO" said voice In the door, "the
bell is not out of order. 1t can't be
heard above the uproar. What Is
this-a contest? Do you need a ref
eree?"
DIR. Whalen with characteristic
disregard of Formally had entered
the apartment He was hatless and
carried a steaming pail that smelled
Spanish.
In spite of herself Elizabeth sput =
tered into a species of hysterical
mirth.
Have you ever tasted my chilli
mac?" continued Doctor Whalen.
NO, Of course not
Yet here / am, the best dresser of
macaroni on this continent and feed.
ing my delicacies to a lot Of sanity
sisters, when right in the block is a
lovely young lady so occupied with
bottling buttermilk that she's starv-
ing. And so /"
Elizabeths mouth shaping a rebuke
suddenly lost its mobility.
Hold it"' she cried imperiously.
Don't you blink or move until I say
So"
There he stood, an eminent doctor,
pursued continuously by telephone
and telegram. immense in his way, i'm
pressive for all his absurdity, dominat-
Ing and yet pudding-so in his kindli-
ness, mountain of a man personally
and physically. with a steaming gran
lite kettle at the end of his barred arm
and so Elizabeth took his picture.
And felt poise and power flow back
into her.
There are dishes in the kitchen
cupboard" she instructed the model
after that, land a bottle for Bet in the
icechest. Would you mind serving
lunch while 1 try to capture that air
Of heavenly grace which Bet Is trying
to put over on us right now? I'm col
lecting evidence on her. Personally,
| think she's going to be Peggy all
over again."
1t was a pleasant lunch. The baby
cooed and the doctors eyes were less
tired than Elizabeth had ever seen
them.
You are a nice person." she said
lmpulsively when it was past time for
him to go, "for baby doctor"
THANK you" He smiled at her al
most shyly. Over Elizabeth swept q
tenderness.
THE Photographic convention met
the first week in June. The
awards in the prize competition were
to be made the first day from exhibits
hung in the rose room of the old Buck
ingham Hotel. Shortly before the date
Elizabeth walked the floor In an agony
Of indecision. The wife Of her rival in
business had spread the report that
she was to compete. There was no
possibility of withdrawal. But Eliza
beth had nothing to offer. This called
for something better than she had
ever shown her little world. In all
that mess" there was only one set of
portraits which she could be proud to
exhibit and she was ashamed to be
proud Of those. They were bound into
one old black folder.
But In the end she snatched up the
folio and some poster-board and set
out. She returned to her apartment,
head up. cheeks burning and the light
Of combat in her eyes.
Bet was sleeping peacefully in her
crib, watched over by sad-eyed wom-
an. She was an emergency nurse
recommended by ST. Mary's, a Hun
garian widow from the charity ward
who had lost her baby.
BE there early tomorrow. said
Elizabeth. Seven o'clock. 1 expect
to be out all day and 1 want to be sure
you understand everything to do for
the baby"
At the following morning Eliza
beth left her studio, but she did not
appear at the Buckingham until $50
that evening. She knew she looked
well, that the jade green OF her
gown brought out the freshness of
her skin and the brightness of her
perfectly dressed hair, that every.
thing about her was just right from
the tight band of pearls at her throat
to the new brocaded slippers on her
feet. But she also knew that her
best beauty would not explain the
murmur that arose when she entered
the assembly. Out of the murmur
dozen voices cried tidings to her.
Elizabeth Harkaway, where have
you been? We've been combing the
town for you. You've won first place.
Come and seer'
Trembling, Elizabeth let herself be
led into the rose room, where the
group of six portraits which she had
reluctantly submitted the night be-
fore had now been separated and
the individual numbers thrust out in
various conspicuous places. There
was Bulgarian Bet, three phases of
her, and these not commonplace ideal
izations of infancy or the conven-
tional revelations with which mothers
are known to embarrass their grown
young They were perfect likenesses,
finished with EliZabeth's pet trick of
crayon etching-but each was q
ludicrous embodiment of human char
acter in a primitive stage-the puny,
impotent, screaming rage, the ma
terialistic, kicking content over
well filled bottle, and the cherub
sweetness borrowed from the angels.
There was the sad-eyed Hungarian
nurse, her lap inadequately occupied
by her roll of crochet, her hands not
twitching only because they were
busy with a needle. A Niobe dumb
in her bereavement. There were the
Two of Dr. Whalen.
ELIZABETH turned a bit dizzy.
II So she couldn't credit her eyes
when they presented to her vision
Of the doctor himself, moving through
the crowded room-the doctor but
toned into immaculate, formal eve
ming dress. his face almost as fresh
as her own, his hair cut within an
inch of totally eclipSing his per-