New Britain herald., 1928-11-23
)tTitt1eY Yellow HOuSe|
 bG9rRl buRroM RELEAsEp BY CENTRAL PRESS ASSN @nael

she had swept into tne parlor with a great rustling of black taffeta skirts. closing the door sharply be- hind her.
 Every night at nine o'clock she would send for Mra Milburn to help her get ready for bed. to bring her a glass of warm milk. and to read her to sleep.
 About twice a week three of her old friends-Mrs. Brett, Mrs Derby and Miss Bunts-came in to play rubber or two of bridge with her in a tiny card room behind the library. On those nights Mrs. Milburn stay ed up, until Il o'clock. when she served them a lunch of sandwiches and weak hot tea and then helped ! her mother upstairs to bed. 1 Grandmother Pentland seemed to . lean on her a great deal these days. 1 except in those rare moments when again and made some quick sarcas- tic remark that was like the sting of a whip.
 ''She makes regular body servant out of your mother. I don't like 1t" NIT. Milburn complained to Emmy one night when they sat in the sew ing room. This was a fool move If ever there was one-to come here to [ live. Your Mother does the work of two servants around here, and we pay board besides. But we're treated like a lot of hangers-on." 1 Emmy knew that, in all probab bill ity. they were paying very little board money to Grandmother Pent- land. She began to see that it really ! was Mrs. Milburn who was paying their way in the house.
 AS her father said, she did the work of two servants.
 She planned the meals and went to market for the food. She did all i of the upstairs work She did all of 1 the mending and took care of Grandmother Pentland's black taf- fetas and velvets as If she were her lady's maid, besides waiting hand. foot and finger on the old lady her self. She counted the things that came up from the laundry and put . them away in the lavender-scented closets of the linen room. 1 'Mother. you work like a slave in this house. don't you?" Emmy asked her one night when she came in to kiss her and tuck her into bed as she always did. Father says you work harder here than ever you did at home. and he's right. You do-and it hurts me to think that you're doing i it for me"
 "Oh. fiddle-faddle. What work is there in making a few beds and look ing after your grandmother? It's just child's play to me-" Mrs. Milburn an- swered. "Jnst child's play!" l She turned at the door on her way out of the room. You're happy here. aren't you, Emmy" she asked anx- iously.
 ; Emmy was happy.
 ! Just to be out of Flower street was a joy in itself And besides. she had brand new interest in life. By the middle of April she was so : deeply infatuated with Wells Harbi- son that he colored all her thoughts from the time she opened her eyes in the morning until she closed them at night.
 And in the middle of April there came Saturday of sunny blue skies, racing clouds, and warm high winds a day that seemed to have been stolen from the golden heart of sum- mer time.
 If this isn't a day for buying a straw hat, there never was a day for it." Lucille Ingham observed when the noon-tide whistles began to blow and she locked up her desk for the weekend that was her Field day, as she called it. Remember the spuzzy little red turban we saw yesterday? think I'll go and catch it this noon. Want to go along?"
 For a week she and Emmy had been window shopping up and down Euclid avenue from the Public square to Twenty street, during their lunch hour.
 Yes. l saw black hat that I'd like fer myself" Emmy said. and be- gan to lock up her own desk; and some gun-metal choker beads with a sapphire clasp"
 It seemed wonderful to her that she could go out into the shopping district and buy these things for her. self. The things she had always wanted: chiffon- silk stockings, beads, high-heeled slippers, pert lit- tie satin turbans that were as smart as they were sleaZy. Things that be- longed just to her. as Marianpa's old clothes never had seemed really to belong to her.
 She had sl7 left for herself every week after she had given hef mother the s5 for her board, and $17 were untold riches to Emmy, who seldom had had 17 cents.
 AS she passed Wells Harbison's door that Saturday noon it opened and he came out. He stopped her. pulling his watch from his pocket.
 Going to lunch, Miss Milburn ?" he asked and Emmy answered that she was, in voice that was much more calm than she.
 Will you try to be back here at one?" he asked. Then: I've some letters to get out, and Miss Dunlap