The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1927-08-03
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copper waves, of her wide green
eyes, of her perfect Grecian nose
and her softly curved mouth never
failed to give her a shock of joy, OF
amazed wonder.
She pressed the light button, then
lay back on the fat Pullman pillow
smiling to herself in the dark, re-
peating soundlessly the beauty
creed" which Flora Cartwright had
insisted that she memorize: 81 be-
lieve that I am utterly beautiful
and utterly desirable. believe that
no man can look upon me without
pleasure and without desire"
"But I can't believe that" she
told herself. cit can't be true of
me-of Vera Victoria Cameron
Oh" she moaned half aloud, clench-
ing her hands on her breast, 81
don't want to remember! I want
to think only Of the future, of Wee
Wee Cameron as she now is and
will bel"
But she could not keep from re-
Numbering. She could not keep
from living over scene which had
stamped itself indelibly on the SEN
Sitive mind of the child she had
been then
A mean little room in a mean
little house in a mean little Mis-
souri, town. A gray coffin, of cheap
painted wood, resting on two cheap
pine chairs, which her mother had
painted black and orange. A child
herself at nine-crouching on the
floor at the head of the coffin, tears
streaming out of her eyes, slipping
down over her pinched, freckled lit
tie face.
A thin little claw of hand lift
ing a heavy braid of ash-colored
hair with which to dab at the tears
which had been blistering her eye
lids since her mother had died.
She saw the miserable, scrawny
little thing pull herself up by the
back of the chair to look yet again
on the face of the woman in the
cofin-a sweet, sad face that had
been so beautiful, and that was
beautiful again in the serenity OF
death.
She heard her grief-hoarsened,
frightened voice crying out, Mama
Mama!" and again, as if she were
living the scene for the first time,
she heard with startling clearness
the rough whiplash of her fathers
voice:
Get out O. here and make me a
pot O. coffee! Amt a damn bit o
sense in a great big girl like you
whining and taking on for two days
on a stretch. Your ma amt coming
back, for all your blubbering, and
the quicker you take on some o.
her work the better you'll be.
"Get out O. here now, and stir
up a batch o. biscuits, too. I amt
had a mouthful o. food but what
the neighbors brought in since she
was took!"
mo, no! I don't want to remem-
ber" the girl moaned, her lovely
head worrying the pillow in deS-
peration.
But she could not shut the flood
gates Of memory. She saw herself
cooking greasy meals and cleaning
the mean little house, overspending
her slight strength so that her
father would not beat her.
Then she saw herself alone for
days, too frightened to tell the
neighbors that her father had de-
serted her, so terrified with loaeli-
ness that she would have welcomed
his coarsely handsome, drink-rav-
aged face and his brutal voice.
Then she saw herself standing
before big bosomed woman in the
orphan asylum, trying to shrink
into herself, hating herself for be-
ing so little and pinched and ugly,
She heard the other children taunt-
ing her, "Greeney eyes! Freckle-
facet"
Aunt Flora had been in Europe
when Vivian'S mother died. It was
Aunt Flora, newly married to her
second husband-Jack Preston, who
now wanted to marry Aunt Flora
again-who came to the orphans
home to rescue her 13-year old
niece.
Beautiful, glittering, glamorous
Aunt Flora, draped about with
her husbands love as with a shining
cloak. Aunt Flora saying, "This
can't be Vee-Vee-Grace's baby!
Why, Jack, Grace was the loveliest
thing! Much prettier than I ami"
Later she had heard Aunt Flora
saying to Jack Preston: 1.-THE poor
little thing is SO pitifully plain,
Jack. 1t will be a miracle if she
ever marries!"
Vera wondered, sobbing a little
with self-pity, if it had been any
wonder that she had never had CAV
good times like other girls, handi-
capped as she had been by her Aown
knowledge of her plainness ana by
her aunt's thoughtless prophecy.
Her pride trampled, but not killed
by life in the orphans home, had
I