Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1928-12-02

those days when the snow
whirled about the house. The card haC
been sent from Java and was bright
with confused scenery, across which
Margery had written: Wonderful TRIP
=. such interesting people sc
wish you could enjoy it all with u.s.
Pamela read the postal absently. The
house was cold, and she went to the
cellar to see what was the matter with
the furnace. She took out half a
dozen Shovels of ashes and shook the
rusted CRATES with vigor. 1t began to
look more cheerful, and Pamela put
her coal on scientifically, layer of
fine anthracite last. Then, because she
never could leave things in a mess, she
swept up the ashes and, feeling some
what dusty, went back upstairs to
where the post card again confronted
her, a tropical joke in the midst of that
bowling blizzard.
r She read it again. It was long
range spin at Margery's chariot wheels
that she was given. Pamela knew that.
There was something fatuous about the
''uS," as If Margery were Smacking her
lips a little over her successful mar
rage and reminding Pamela that the
newly-married VaneS felt as one about
their friends. No matter how Jack
Vane might have thought about Pa
mela once, he now was part of that
''us." Pamela bore no scars. She
never did bear scars, when any of the
men who had made love to her mar
ried and became part of proprietary
and occasionally Haunted Gus" But
1t always surprised her little to find
that they were gone beyond recall.
She often wondered, without striving
particularly for solution, why she
hadn't married them or they hadn't
married her. What was it about her
or them-that always left things like
this?
She adjourned reflection, as the old
Judge might say, sine die. A quick
dusk had rushed about the windows,
and the storm seemed to be growing
more violent. Pamela hoped that the
judge would take a taxi home. She
looked at the blackened hearth in the
library and, deciding that there must
be an open fire on night like this,
went to the cellar for kindling and
logs.
Between the shelves. of books on the
wall of the Crichton's shabby library
hung framed photographs of their be-
loved dead, and others, who were not
dead and still causing mere worry than
love. AS the quick, clean flame lit up
their pictured faces and the dark, fan
ciful one of the girl on the hearth the
room became stored and full of imagi-
nation These were pictures of men
and women who would challenge life,
who must have met it with impotence
and passion, who had endured suffer-
ing and surely caused it. The girl be-
fore the fire seemed to belong to them
fairly enough, with her face that trim
med SO quickly to gayety or melancholy.
With Decia, whose indiScretionS had
made the old judge more defenSively
dignif1ed; with Warren, who made no
bones about preferring an ASiatic civil
lization to a Midwestern American one
and lived in China; with Barbara, who
was losing her looks, but not her power
to make men fall in love with her, as her
husbands chronic agitationS showed.
The Judge and his beautiful wife had
given their children plenty of beauty
and spirit and not much else, although
the family always managed to hold
their heads very high on the judicial
salary. 1t was still the most stable in
come in the family and emergencies
jerked at it from all sides. That was
why Pamela worked part time in the
library and had learned personally to
conquer the furnace and cook dinners.
Some one had to get along without
spending money, and nobody else could.
And Barbara sent Pamela all her old
evening gowns, when the men who adj
mired her had ceased to exclaim over
them. Pam was satisfied. Barbara had
clever taste, and men often admired
Pam in the dresses, too. But they didn't
marry her, and nearly every one had
insisted on marrying Barbara. 1t had
been general scramble, out of which
Barbara seemed to have blindly picked
the man least able to provide for her
desires.
DAMELA made up her mind to have
= PURGE of mushrooms. 1t was ex-
travagant when they were alone, but
the Judge would need hot soup tonight.
She ran hurTiedly upstairs and took of
her day dress, changing to an old rose
colored one that had, of course, been
Barbara's. When she came down she
was waStefully pretty, with no one there
to see her. the brown curlS fiat on her
forehead and her eyes lustrous blue.
She made quite a dinner of it. The
soup was smooth and delicious. Pamela
loved to fit in the parts of the puzzle
of dinner, making it as much an affair
of state as IL there were cook and
waitress in the big. draughty kitchen.
Candles on the dining-room table were
as cheap as electric light, and they
brought out the pattern Of the damask
cloth, curious design of swans and
lilies. The cloth wouldn't stand many
more washings, thought Pamela, spread
ing it almost pityingly. The silver COM
pote, piled with its economical dessert
of fruit, gave the table dignity. Pork
spareribs and browns potatoes would
have to live up to it, and Pamela de-
cided to give her dinner flourish with
the last Of the imported Parmensan
cheese and coffee.
The wind kept I'D. Whiffs of it sour
ried in under the doors; the windows
ratified Pamela turned the gas low
under the spareribs and began to worry
about her father. She hoped that he
hadn't tried to walk home. The judge
was more determined than robust.
Looking out of the front windows she
saw him, at last, coming up the walk
with another man, their black forms
bent against the storm.
Come income in, sir" painted the
Judge.
The door blew shut wildly, forcing
the other man to comply.
Worst night ever saw!" exclaimed
the Judge:
asked.
None to be had Mr.. Vane picked
me up" He waved toward his COM
panion. you remember Kermit Vane,
Pamela?"
"She can't. I'm a previous genera
tion," answered Kermit Vane, bowling.
Pamela didn't remember him, except
as a name And what she had heard
about him had not been too compli-
mentary. He was the Vane who had
married French woman and lived
abroad most of the time, been a drifter
He looked it, too: hard and lean and
wise and Secretive.
"I know your cousin, jack" said
Pamela.
The bridegroom. missed the we'd
ding and the departure for the grand
tour. But was fortunate enough tt
meet them unexpectedly in Los An
geles, in December"
The Judge. who had been Shakine