New Britain herald., 1930-08-02
DANCING JUDITII WE coPIRiGHT 1850 A CHELSEA HOUSE.

promise you.' He was almost comic in his apologies. After all, in France nobody would think any thing of my kissing your hand" Well, we're not in France" Judy said curtly, and I don't like your kissing my hand
 T swear It shall never happen again"
 T hope not. Anyway, I shan't see anything of you. because I'm going 10 be very busy I'm off new
 She vas slightly molIired He really seemed alarmed at the conso- quences of his tcmeritv. Moreover. it had all been wildly exciting If Guarvenius or the young pianist had kissed her hand. she wouldn't have minded q bit. It was the mem cry Of Gideon-s former glances. It vas lhe certain knowledge that he 'fancled her" as she put it
 But in her youthful pride Judy knew herself 10 be capable of hold ing her own with any man. A reck- less sense Of adventure was pervad- ing her whole being, stealing up ward 10 her head, like the fumes of strong wlna. She saw career be- fore her,
 Gideon came out into the hall with her IL had q fine staircase up the center, and WAS lighted by a glass dome from above. IL was positively crowded with beautiful, rare, pre- cious things.
 One day" said Gideon in what she called his "trytng-to- friend ly' voice, T hope you will come and see my house on the Grand Canal in Venice"
 The words arrested her attention. Nenice was in Italy. She had an idaa,
 T wish you'd believe that I am ashamed Of myself" he went on before she could speak.
 "Rirht-o"" she said, with sud- den flashing smile, "Wil. you do something to prove lto'
 Anything in the world" he re- piled.
 She could have roared with laughter at the light that came into his eyes, because he thought she vas going to ask something for herself. She knew men, did little Judy Grant,
 She told him the story Of Dan. the waiter at the Cafe Turc, and his mothers death.
 Will you give him the money to 90 over 10 Italy and fetch her back" she asked. T suppose it would be q flea bite 10 you"
 Much pleasanter," he retorted. He could be very frank and com panionable when he chose. T shall be delighted. I remember Dan. and his voice. Will you wait a minute while I so and fetch the money?"
 She negatived The idea
 I'll send Dan 10 >ou here. When can.you see him? I'll have nothing tc do with it; but I shall tell him" again she gave him q half-mock- ing smile-"how kind and generous you are"
 You're good friend. Miss Judy" Gideon said. Send him here at any time tonight I'm din- ing at home with some friends. wish could persuade you to come"
 She was all thorns agaIn.
 No, thanks. I've had enough for today Dan will come alone. It will be late, after the cafe closes Dan works harder than anybody know, but not harder than I'm go- ing to"
 She was at the front door, which Gideon opened for her Perhaps she felt little ungratefuL for she turned 10 him and said simply:
 T ought to thank l6u. | owe it 10 you. If you hadn't put the idea into my head and got MT. Whats his-name here, 1 could never have done it."
 "I want no thanks" Gideon said and there a:med to be something thick in his throat. i've done noth- ing, anyhow. You won't let me help you. Perhaps in time youn come 70 like me just little bit"
 Alan and Chummy were discussing Judy over their very frugal dinner at Gjnori's more than q month later. Their midday meal consisting of sandwiches, they ate at the art school
 Steyne had been back from Maine a little less than q week. He had glowing accounts Of the beauty of the hills in the bourgeoning spring, when the larches draped the hillsides like a mantle Of pale green feathers, and the mountain streams rushed in brown cascades over their stony beds. and the birds sang in mad chorus through all the hours of the lengthening day Nevertheless, he said he was glad 10 be back in New York and at work again, and he appeared to settle down tc his easel and the careless bohemian life with perfect content.
 He had found change. Chummy was feverishiy at work She had already got her first commission | POOR PA