The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1927-03-04

| living my lie all over again. L won I
have it, Joyce. Or if it must be, ]
won't stay to see it. You can stay
with your father if you choose. But
am leaving and want you to
come with me-"
She held out her arms to the girl.
Her voice had risen in passion as
she finished her story, and now eX-
hausted by the scene, by her long
| day of work, she sank into chair,
her eyes yearning over her daughter.
'Hear me, Lass" said John Oar
ing in a deep voice. Hear me be-
fore you take the step that will make
your whole life or ruin it. Your
mother is right when she says I am
cold and slow by nature. She knew
that when we We're married. But she
is wrong if she thinks or says I do
not love her, and love you. I could
not be always saying it, and she will
not believe it when I tell you that l
loved her so was jealous of the love
she poured out on you.
"But I loved you in spite Of that
dllQ IL L w clo ildl Oil II w Clos OCSodSO l.
believed it was for you. Never a
blow did you get that did not strike
into my heart, too.
"But when you grew older and the
war came along she wanted to work.
I hated it, but all around us women
were helping to carry the country's
burden, taking the places Of the men
who were gone, and so 1 gave my
consent. 1t was an evil day when
did. For it changed your mother
from a loving homebody into a CAD
about Silk stockings, powder for
her face, ideas too young for any
woman her age got into her head
and she went crazy about them.
''True she spent money on you.
But the most of it she spent on her
self. Then when the war was over
and she came home for bit,
thought we would be all right again.
But she had the fever. And in a
month she was back at work, this
time at the job that has kept you
and me from having a home through
jill your nigh SCIOOl udJ
II ask you what kind Of home we
have. I must get my own break
fast, or you must rise to help me,
because your mother is sleeping. /
must pack a bucket for myself for
noon, and when 1 come back at five
thirty your mother is gone to the
restaurant. Night after night 1 am
so tired that I must go to bed before
she comes home, and leave the next
morning without speaking to her.
MANY a week we go from one
Sunday morn to the other without
saying a word to each other. I have
no home. My daughter has no
mother. No woman to hear her
every girl needs mother to hear.
Is 1t any wonder that I would rather
see you married to David Tomp-
kins, some one who would care for
you, spend his evenings W tn you,
give you a home like this.
But no. Your mother would have
you chasing a rich mans son. To
your ruin. Take your choice, girl.
With your mother are the bright
lights, the path Of the moths that
are burned and die. With me, for
I'll not lie to you, you'll know the
quiet life of decent girl making
ready to marry and have a homo.
Yen have to choose. For your
mother and me have come to the
parting Of the ways"
The muscles of the girls face
twitched. He laid his great toll worn
hand for moment on Joyce's head.
Joyce looked at these two through
strange eyes. Her father and mother
Dads and characterization she
had loved; who had loved each other
as married people did she had be-
lieved; who had made her home, her
bulwark against the world. They
were going! Away from each otherl
No home left! No solid ground be-
meath her feet in this bewildering
world of young l fe that lay ahead
Of 1eri
Slowly she rose to her feet. In
her right hand she took her mothers
cold fingers, in her left she clasped
her fathers hand.
Dads and Motherdear," she said,
'It is my fault that you have quar-
relied so tonight. I should never
have angered Father so by running
away This would never have hap
pened if I had stayed at home. But
/ can't stay home all my life. must
find things out for myself.
"But while I'm finding them out
And you, Dads dear, need mother
Motherdear, you need Dads. o.,
tell me this is all a bad dream. Let's
forget all that has been said. Let's
be just the happy three we've been
for so long"
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She made an attempt to draw her
father and mother closer together
There was pause. Agnes Daring
hung her head. John Oar ng moved
his lips in prayer. Joyce sobbed
quietly.
& he LATTER SpOhS. IL Is q LeIIlDlS
thing, oh God" he said ito destroy
a home. If your mother will give
up her work and make a home as
a woman should then I will forget
what has passed"
Joyce looked questioningly at her
mother.
But Agnes Daring gave no sign.
At last she pulled her hand away
from Joyce's. Her anger had van
ished. Her voice held an infin tie
sadness.
tits too late, john" she said. eff
you asked me because you loved me
still I might try it. But without love
life as we would have to live it
would be impossible. I cannot do
without the little fine things of life
that my work 6 yes me. Nor have
Won anV right f0 ASH T0vce RI Iiv.