Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-01-01
This Strange
Adventure
By Mary Roberts Rinehart


I TIdBt q.
somebody would invent a way to make
them cheap, and then He would
think about his engine, get out an old
! envelope and make notes on 1t.
Missile grew very thin that Winter,
and much of her elusive prettiness left
her Her eyes seemed larger, and there
was hint of tragedy in them. But,
OF course there was no tragedy. Who
would have believed that StellaS daugh-
ter would reach such heights? Be well
married, prosperous, important.
Eileen-she was Eileen from then on
sometimes regarded Missile with q
certain envy.
Who would have thought 10 years
| ago, Missile. that you would be where
| you are now?"
Where am I? often wonder"
You've got what have to hight for"
said Eileen practically. There was no
use being frivolous or coquettiSh with
Missile, or even pretentious.
And 1t was Eileen one day who told
her that old Archibald had sent a note
to Tommy, trying to borrow some
money.
The old nuisancel" Eileen said.
'Tommys soft, but told him not to
send any. He'd only be back for more"
He sent note? Is he Sick?"
II don't know and don't care. Too
many pairs of shoes that needed went
into his pocket in the old days. Don't
be silly, Missile. What is he to you?
II his own sister win let him starve-"
One day Missile got old Archibald'S
! address from Tommy and went to see
him. The change In him alarmed her
He looked old and Ill nourished. She
had never known-neYer did know
why he had quarreled with his sister,
/ but she was resentful of his shabby
little room, of his spotless worn linen,
OF his broken boots. He was feeble
too; 1t was with difficulty that he got
! out of his chair.
When she offered him money he said
that his lodge was helping him, and
that II she came again he wouldn t
mind a bottle OF Wesley's whisky, but
that was all.
After that she went to see him regu-
larry. She cleaned his room, took back
| with her his linen for washing, mended
his worn socks. Now and then, too, she
carried with her q bottle Of whisky.
Since he would drink, he should have
the best. But that was all she could
do. Wesley was a true son Of the COS.
His money was his. He earned 1t.
His house. his servants, his wife, his
money. She could buy the old man
none of the small comforts.
She was alone a great deal Of the
time. She had acquaintance, but no
friends; now and then a young woman
or an older one called they came in,
silk lining rustling against silk petit
coats. Missile rustled down to see them.
When they had gone she entered their
names in little book and a week later
she returned the call. She was 20, and
this was her life.
She rarely saw her grandmother or
Adelaide. Now and then she prevailed
on Wesley to go there for Sunday
luncheon, but with difficulty. He had
used them, he had consolidated his po-
sltlon, and now he was prepared to
throw them overheard. She saw that
with those candid eyes of hers. Saw,
too, that these women were lonely with
out her. They had not loved her, bus
she had brought them something. Now
that final blooming was over. Size
! ached with pity for them. She saw,
too, that Wesley made them unCom-
Portable. He could afford to paLronize
| them now.
One afternoon Adelaide came to the
! house She looked old and tired, and
her jerking was more pronounced than
ever. Fortunately there was nobody
there. With the opening OF good
weather the men were out of doors
bicycling, playing tennis on private
courts, driving their smart traps or
struggling with the new intricacies of
| golf.
Adelaide wandered around the parlor
L was afraid you'd be out. It's a
nice day. saw a lot of people at the
HemingwayS' tennis court"
Il play such bad tennis. didn't
learn exactly enough"
Il thought saw Wesley there"
Probably. He's trying to keep his
weight down."
But her heart sank a little. Gus
Hemingway had brought home a new
wife from Louisiana, soft-voiced,
melting-eyed girl, who treated Gus with
indolent scorn and all other males with
beguiling sweetness Missile knew that
Wesley admired her. Fine woman.
Anna Hemingway" he had said. And,
since Wesley was Wesley, the fact that
she was Hemingway added to her at
traction for him.
She forgot Anna, however, when Ade-
laide at last sat down.
Missile" she said, have you any
money!"
only the house money, Aunt Ade-
laide. and 1t is just enough"
Gould you get any from Wesley?"
She did not know. He was making
money, she thought. but he was putting
1t into his business. And-what she
did not say to Adelaide-he was parSi-
monious, save where expenditure would
show. What was the trouble?
Adelaide told her.
I'VE are behind in our taxes can't
go to mother. can't even tell her. She
is getting feebler, Missile. / don't think
Ill have her very long And to lose
the home where she's lived so long"
Adelaides face worked, her chin quiv-
cred. She fumbled for her handker-
chief She's all have, Missile. L
I'm not rebellious. but If I'm let
alone"
She promised to see what she could
do, and Adelaide left But hitherto she
had accepted Adelaide. Now she began
to think about her. After all. that was
real tragedy-to be old and unbeauti-
full, living an empty life Of vicarious
existence, to have no one who cared
greatly whether ole lived or died, to