Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-12-31

world, indulgent toward the
fuss with which women sur
round a wedding family supercilious,
indeed, and mutually understanding
There was even not so much apparent
difference in their ages; Wesley was an
old IS, Lambert an eternally young so.
Still, it came as a shock to Missile to
have her father tell Wesley to call him
by his first name. They understood
each other. They were men.
Sometimes she went in alone and
looked at her gifts. Perhaps she hoped
that they would rouse something in her,
something on which to build a new
home, new life. But they never did.
She felt that they were not really sent
to her. They came from Wesley's
friends, or her grandmother's. Only
one thing she really felt was her own
this was large silver cake dish from
Ellen and Tommy. For Ellen and
Tommy had been invited to the we'd
ding and were 10 sit with the family"
It was an ugly cake DISH even as such
things went liz the COS, but, as Ellen
said, it had weight.
Don't talk to me of design" she
said; give me weight in silver every
time"
1t was Wesley who had put them on
the list. Tommy was doing very well.
He had raised some capital and built
a small bicycle factory. And he was
making money. Also, Tommy had
secret. In a back room at the factory
he was experimenting with a small en-
CINE. He was secretive about it. He
never told Ellen. Not for several years
was he to tell Ellen.
So Missile looked at the cake dish and
thought of Ellen and Tommy. OF Stella,
too. How Stella would have loved 1t
ALL
She tried hard to love Wesley. She
bad fierce revulSion sometimes when
he took her into his arms; there was
always about him a definite aroma, of
cigars, bay rum, Peau d'ESpagne, a
suggestion of good food Justify eaten,
an atmosphere of dissatisfaction and
possession that chilled her.
But there were other times when he
came in tired and quiet when she
found that her own gift of silence, to
sit quietly sewing while he watched her
and said nothing, was comforting to
him. He depended on her. She felt
maternal then, strong and yet gentle.
What she had she would give him, ten
derneSs, care. rest and comfort. He was
giving her all he had; she would give
him all she could.
And so the wedding day came. A
cockade had been fitted to Ishmael's
new SILK hat, and white ribbon tied
to his new whip. The old carriage had
been painted and temporarily lined
with white linen, for nothing must mar
the purity OF Missiles wedding gown.
There were canopies over the front steps
OF the house and at the entrance to the
church, and under these canopies
stretched lengths of rich red carpet. A
new florist had come to town and his
roses and palms decorated the altar and
the house. The house that morning
smelled rather like a funeral, and
through that funeral atmosphere walked
Lambert Colfax in a new frock coat,
SNUG and prosperous, whistling the
slow march down the aisle with Missile
on his arm.
And Missile was locked in her room,
fighting the hardest fight of her life.
In those early morning hours of prepa-
ration nobody had missed her. Already
she had been manicured; her soft hair
was dressed to receive the coronet of
satin and white paradise which held
her veil. Over the undergarmentS of
finest lawn and lace she had thrown an
old dressing gown, and now she sat in
the low rocking chair, doggedly rocking.
What ought she to do? To send for
Wesley and tell him what she knew?
But to do that, IL she had no defense,
she must be prepared to call Off the
marriage, and to call of the marriage
now-it might kill her grandmother.
And what defense would he have? He
would deny it, of course; she might be-
lieve him or not, but he would deny 1t.
Then what would have been accom-
plished? Nothing. Nothing at all
And there was no time to prove or dis
prove the statements in the letter, de-
livered by hand en- hour ago by a rag
ged urchin. and giving no address.
Emily Beaumont Then she must
have left the stage and be living here
But, of course, she would have left the
stage; she must be almost an old woman
by this time. Curious, she could smell
that dressing room now. the carbon
from defective gas jet, the heavy per-
fume.
Pictures rose in her mind; she had
Stella sitting on the bench in the park.
Your fathers got another woman"
And again: you can't trust them.
They take everything and give nothing.
That's men for you"
Missile had burned Emily Beaumont's
letter. It had been brief. She had al
ways remembered Missile, and knew
about her. Also she had tried to reach
Mr.. Dexter that night, but had failed
4ilSlG Wdo a Bht-llODOQy NloolC WOulu
knoW-Who was fond of Wesley. and
she was threatening to go to the church
and make trouble Emily Beaumont
herself meant TO be outside, but she
might need some help. And it ended:
Don't think too much of this, Missile.
Mr.. Dexter never cared for her and
she knows it. He won't ever want to
see her again."
Missile knew why Emily Beaumont
had failed to reach Wesley. He had
given his bachelor dinner at the club
the night before; and no doubt 1t had
been q prodigal one. He might not
have gone home at all. But he would
be there now. She looked at the clock.
Eleven. In an hour
She was still rocking doggedly when
Adelaide came in, a flushed, happily ex-
cited Adelaide, in pale gray dress with
the balloon sleeves which made her look
as wide as she was tall, and with
small lavender bonnet perched high on
her tightly pinned hair.
"ReSting?" she asked. That's right.
tried to sit down myself, but I'm so
excited! Missile, dear, you'd better
start to dress. Here's the sheet"
She was bending over. spreading a
sheet on the floor. Her stays were
very tight; she breathed heavily.
Let me do that. But first want
to telephone Wesley"
You'll see him in an hour" painted
Adelaide. Anyhow you can't go down
like that. YOU"
But Missile was gone. There was no
decision to make; she could not go
back on them. All she could do was to
warn Wesley; by doing that she was
making herself particeps oriminiS-not