New Britain herald., 1926-10-20

in the wavy dim mirror of her dresser.
 She liked herself in it. she de- cided. The oiq-gold satin ripplcd over her figure, bringing out the lovely girl-slimncss Of breast and waist and hips,
 The color Of the satin was almost the color of Honey Lou's shining hair, and of her amber eyes with gold flccks in them. Evon the whteness Of hor skin had gold mixed in it that turned it to cream.
 Against that vclvety whiteness, Honey Lou's mouth was like a rose | petal fallen on ivory. A mouth that needed none of the paint that the used on it so oXjrayagantly.
 She rouged it now. as she stood grave eyed, before the toilet glass. Then she borrowed" a yellow vel vet rose from the drawer where MarGrct kept her gloves and col lars and handkcrchiefs.
 It was just what she needed 10 pin on her shoulder for a touch of color, and Margret would never use it anyway, most likely. Margret was not given to "lussy' dressing,
 She only raised her eyebrows and laughed when Honey Lou walked out Into the sitting room. with it pinned on her satin shoul- der.
 Pretty swank tonight, aren't you?" she asked, looking up from the pair of stockings she was darn ing under the yellow lamp. Much too pretty for Donegal. l don't like him. He loolls-wild."
 Am l pretty enough for Jack Wallack?" asked Honey Lou with her quick dazzling smile.
 Margret nodded.
 But l thought you said you were going out with that Donegal man." Mrs. Huntley said, glancing up sharply.
 And so I am. But I'm going to see Jack Wallack, tool" Honey Lou dropped a kiss on the soft coil of hair that crowned her mothers head. We're going to a restaurant 10 dance and he's going, too, with q crowd
 She made up her mind in flash that she would go there with Donegal after all. There was no use wearing this lovely new dress, unless Jack Walack saw her in it. None at all.
 She met Donegal downstairs in the sapphire darknss of the Sop tember night And so it was not until they were in the restaurant that she saw that he had been drinking.
 His eyes were boodshot. his black hair rumpled, and there was q loose-lipped smile on his weak good looking face as he followed Honey Lou unsteadily through the maze of little tables.
 Their own place was in the farthest corner of the room with it's crowd, its colored lanterns aglow above haze of blue cigarette smoke, its red-plush divans against the wall, it's noise and it's chatter.
 From the big round table where Jack Walack sat with his crowd" he saw Honey Lou come toward him--pass him-without so much as a glance.
 His eyes followed her, as she swayed along like little flower blowing on it's stalk. She always made him think, somehow. of a flower. The freshness -- the fra grance-and the frailty of her.
 For him, the charm of Honey Lou had lain in her sweetness, her decency, her almost child-Hke inno- ccnce. rather than in her beauty. There were many. many pretty girls these days, when so much beauty depended on powder. cold cream. paint and curling irons.
 The blow she had given him the night ho had taken her joy-riding and kissed her had meant more to him than any other woman's kiss - even while his cheek still smarted with it.
 He had believed her at first when she told him that it was her first kiss. lie had believed her when she told him that she never had tasted liquor.
 He had been touched by it.
 For no matter how short women may cut their hair and their skirts no matter how much they may smoke or drink or paint themselves a mans ideal of woman some- how remains the same. The ideal of unsullied sweetness that is ike the sweetness of an old-fashioned high-wailed garden,
 By the time Honey Lou and Donegal were seated, Jack had looked away from them.
 When shc finally found him with her eyes. he was helping Suzanne Clemens to butter. Suzanne. with her forty-year- eyes, and her lit- us baby faca gith g plume of