Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1930-08-21

You really mean it?" in 6 voice thai
made me shake with terror. l didn't
dare say then I'd made a mistake by
saying yes" when l should have said
no" So 1 just shut my eyes and
waited.
l remember l was wearing a new
dress-white tulle with silver embroid-
ery-and l hoped he wouldn't crush it
when he kissed me You know. in
stories they always crush one to them.
and though l expected to be kissed. |
didn't want to be cruShed-it was my
very best dress and I didn't know when
I'd get another. But-no, you'll never
gueSS-he didn't kiss me. After A
while l opened my eyes and there he
sat, quiet and dark and rather tense
looking. l thought. now he's sorry.
I'm not really pretty. even if l have
naturally curly hair and long eye
lashes. And if I'm not even pretty.
what am land for him! 1t was awful.
Then suddenly-Just like that!-he
said, I'm afraid you're going to be
sorry OF course l couldn't tell him
| was already, so l Just shook my head.
l had to be polite, didn't I?
l expect so, said her reason grudg-
ingly. but you are a Dumb Dora.
l know, said her heart unhappily.
And as time went on, it grew worse
and worse. l tried to invent views on
serious things; l tried to talk about
the subjects l felt most interesting to
him. Politics, and economics, and en-
gineering in South Africa. When |
got talked out, Id plead a headache,
or an engagement. and run away till
l could think Of something else. But |
knew he thought me silly, or else would,
If / should ever really say the natural
things that popped into my head and
l wanted to tell him. But I didn't
dare take a chance. Perhaps he'd
think me amusing at first. smile at
what mama calls my naivete. but after
a while he'd begin smiling to himself,
then he'd become bored, and then he'd
grow impatient.
I quite see, your point, said her rea-
son soothingly. It's quite beyond me
what he ever did see in you.
That's what I always wonder, said
her heart miserably. / never could
chatter and laugh and tease him as
I can all the boys l know. You can't
imagine what a relief it would be to
me to say to him just once, II don't
know what you're talking about,
knowing that he would not think con-
tempuously of me for it. But to sum
it all up-what is frightening me most
is, how is one to go on for years
pretending? Surely one must be natural
sometimes with the man n has mar
ried!
A sharp colorless ping! broke the
stiffness. The girl in the bed sat more
fully upright. Half-past seven O'Clock.
Twelve more hours. Oh, dear, what
should she do with those twelve last
precious hours of freedom?
1t was decided for her.
Parker knocked at her door. Parker
was gaunt and ugly. Parker had
never been a bride. Parker loved
brides. She always wept at weddings.
Il had such a lovely time" she would
say. Il went to a wedding and l cried
and cried"
She was near weeping now. oh,
Miss Barbara, I'm SO sorry I walked you
up, but Lucille is on the telephone and
she says your gown isn't nearly ready
and the girls have been working on 1T
all night!'
Barbara looked at Parker. Parker
had once been her nurse. 1t had
seemed to Barbara then that Parker
knew everything. Perhaps she did now.
She envied Parker.
She said at length, ut doesn't matter.
1 don't think I'll need it,
Parker began to cry. She had only
been waiting provOcation.
Now, Miss Babs, whatever do you
mean? You aren't sick-or anything,
are you, honey?'
NO"
Barbara was proud of the firmness
of her voice. She hoped it would be
firm when she told them all she wasn't
going to marry him. OF course there'd
be a scene at first. Papa would swear,
and mama would have Mysteries
mama always had Mysteries when she
failed to get what she wanted-and
the uncles and aunts would sniff and
look suspicious, and the guests would
all start to whisper and wonder at the
reason.
Nov you tell me the truth, Miss
Babs. Are you serious or are you jok-
ing?"
Tim s-serious, Parker" The voice
wasn't SO firm now.
"Oh, deary me, what will your poor
mother and poor fiancay say?'
well, it isn't for you to tell them,"
said Barbara sternly. and thrust two
incredibly slim, incredibly lovely legs
out of the bed.
Good morning, Parker. Good MORN
ing, Barbara. May I ask what this un-
seemly argument is about?"
1t was Mrs. Haverill Cass Leighton.
At seven forty-five a. m, daylight a v
ing time. Nothing but marriage or
death-and not always that-could
cause Mrs. Haverill Cass Leighton to
arise at that absurd hour.
Parker snuff1ed. Barbara shifted.
"You may go, Parker" said Mrs,
Haverill Cass Leighton with distaste.
Parker went.
"And now" said Mrs. Haverill ct
cetera, calmly, "you may tell me all
about it,"
Barbara drew up her knees and rest
ed her chin on them reflectively. After
all, she decided, seven forty-five a. m.
D. L. S., was a bad hour to cause a
scene.
"Wel?"
Barbara jumped. This was going tx
be perfectly CHASTITY. To have to &c
on pretending, and then
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