Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-12-16

TH HE house was very small. There
was a narrow hall, frigid par
lor, a dining room and kitchen
i on the first floor. On the Sec
ond there was a front bed room,
behind it the one the little girls useo,
and a rear room which in times of az
fluence was used by maid OF all work,
and in all times, good and bad, housed
the trunks, the broken chairs, the OIL
lamps in case the gas company turned
off the gas-which was not infrequently
and all the other fiotSam and Jetsam
of that curious heterogeneous group
which was the ColfaX family.
Missile was always afraid OF thsI
back room. About it she built up grad
ually a superstition of horror. 1t con-
tanned ghosts. At any time its door
might open and some bony hand pro-
trude itself to clutch at her And, AFTER
a long time, she knew that 1t contained
a leg.
Neither she nor Ellen was supposed to
You girls keep out of that room"
was their mothers order. You're not
going in there to open trunks and mess
things up"
But one day the door was open and
Missile saw the leg. 1t was deadly white
and very horrible. She never spoke OF
II She was quite sure that no one
knew it but herself But after that 1t
was not a hand that threatened her,
but a dead white foot. Not for a long
time did she know that 1t was only
plaster cast, from the time her 1ather
mad broken his leg when horse ran
awav with him. She never did know
why 1t had been preserved.
She was a highly imaginative child.
Ellen, the stepsister, was matter OF 1act
in the extreme Ellen would stop on the
landing in the dark on her way to bed
and look longingly back and down INTO
the lights below and Missile wouio
stand inside their small bed room walt
ing to hear shrek. But Ellen never
Shrieked
The parlor was seldom used. 1t was
furnished with rosewood, upholstered IN
black horsehair. There was an OLD
square piano. also, and long gilt MIR
ror. The furniture, Missile knew, hao
been bought by her father at an auc-
ton sale, and she knew, too, that her
mother hated 1t.
TT has no style" she would COM
plain. -,
father would saw, and smile that strange
smile of his which even then Missile re-
sented. 1t was q patronizing, superior
smile, and it seemed to be reserved for
her mother. He never used 1t to missile.
Missile was his own child. 1t appeared
that there was this odd difference be-
tween Ellen and Missile: it was puzzl1ng,
for Missile had a father and Ellen had
none.
But where is your father?"
ct don't know. Dead, most likely"
"But why don't you ask her?"
The mother was often her" between
them.
Ellen looked at her with candid, prac-
ucal eyes.
she says he'd dead. But maybe
she's lying"
Gradually there sprung up in Missile
q fierce loyalty to her mother.
Her father she knew very little about.
He was tall and fair, and the household
served him almost cringingly. He was
never awakened in the morning, and 1t
was necessary to keep everything very
quiet until he reused. When he did
rouse, everything was instant excite
ment Ellen watched the breakfast,
Missile carried up the hot water, for
there was no bath room in the house, and
her mother went upstairs and laid out
his fresh clothes and put the studs and
buttons in his shirt. When he finally
started down the street to that mys-
FERROUS spot called the office, he was
handsome, resplendent, even amiable.
Even then Missile realized that the
house revolved around her father. The
cream from the top of the milk was
saved for his coffee the best of the |
steak, II he was late, as he often was. |
And however Slovenly she might be dur
ing the day, her mother was always
dressed for his return. She would lace
herself into her corSets, do her heavy
hair in great coils on top of her head,
powder her face-although the little
girls were not supposed to know that
she used powder. Then she would tie
her hustle around her waist over her
long cambria petticoats. and over that
would 60 the voluminous skirt, the
basque which fitted close to her lovely
figure.
She was a vsry handsome woman,
was Stella Colfax in those days; a COM
mon woman in many ways, given to
quick angers. A passionate woman, too;
jealous, possessive. There was undoubt-
ed provocation behind Lambert ColfaXS
desertion of her later on.
That she was paSsionately in love
with him until the day of her death
there is no doubt. From what depths
he had taken her neither one of the
girls was ever to know. There had been
some obscure first marriage, but Stella's
past was locked in a trunk in the room
at the head Of the stairs. vast square
trunk, from which. when times were
parlous she occasionally brought some
queer exotic. fabric which she made.
skillfully enough, into frocks for the
children.