The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1930-07-22


her world so much enjoyed.
Sidney was poor, of course. But
in what an enviable and simple
fashion he made pove~+-' romantic!
Dinner tables everywhere listened
and laughed when Sidney explained
his maneuvering with landlord, tai
lor and florist. He earned little, and
that little in irregular sums, and
money was the last subject to in
tereSt him.
To Patricia poverty was always
hateful, sordid, and unmanageable.
She could not owe money; the fact
Of doing so seemed to paralyze her
moral senses. She had not the
genius that makes excusable hap
hazard meals, homemade gowns,
mis-matched bowls and plates.
She paid $40 a week for the priv
ilege Of living in a clean and odor-
GUS and commonplace boarding
house, she wore Aunt Armies old
hats and the discarded garments of
her younger cousins.
Seven years ago she had been Or
phaned at 20, the beauty and the
beggar of the allied families. They
had all been kind to her in their
various ways. She had spent two
years as Aunt Louise Pages unpaid
companion, a year travelling with
Aunt Mary Chambers, while little
Betty's eyes were being treated by
specialists in Germany; several
months with the PomeroyS during. a
quiet winter of mourning, vacations
here, there and everywhere. She was
welcomed at all their homes and
really needed and wanted at none.
A ND as the years went by she
IA knew that she interested them
less; she knew that uncles and
cousins began to ask, How old is
Pat now?" and that answering
aunts always gave her the disad-
vantage of an extra year or two.
The cousins, with whom she had
played games and gone to football
matches, were married and scat
tered, and yet Pstricia's own humil-
iating and burdensome problem re-
manned the same.
She had taken a brief course in
library work, with their approval.
But here N the studio now were
three rich women-Annie and Doro-
thy and Betty-who never had sug-
gested that she put their own
libraries into good shape. She could
not ask them, bitter as was her
need.
To Aunt Louise, the family die
tator and head, she indeed had ap-
pealed ten days ego. Patricia's cool
cheeks burned at the memory. The
odious housekeeper, one Mrs. Chad
wick, who entirely controlled the
old despot. smilingly had opined
that Mrs. Page was too nervous for
any distressing conversation, and
Aunt Louise had cackled from her
nest of shawls:
7 don't hear you, deari Ask
Chaddy."
The lirl had come aw~- furiously
resolvin that she would beg from
strange before she turned again to
Aunt Louise.
She reused herself now from deep
thought.
Il didn't hear you. Aunt Annie. I"
Il only said that I hoped you
didn't go to that dreadful woman's
house. dear" Mrs. Throckmorton re-
peated. The one who wrote you.
The drug store woman"
Mrs. Palmer" Patricia said It
dryly, a sudden little impulse Of de-
fenSs rising in her.
Il wouldn't catalogue her books
for a million a month" Dorothy
Eyre said. Mother got on some
board with her once, and she simply
haunted her!"
Come catalog my books. Pat"
Con Hamilton said lazily. 'Attic,s
full of emil"
do you mean it?" she asked in
tereStedly.
What should have them listed
for? intend TO give them all to
Roberta here. when she marriesg"
Too much is enough!" said Rob-
erta unthankfully. Getting married
is SUFFICIENT. without your old
booksl"
'VOU must do ours some day.
Il Pat" her aunt said. I'D like
TO have il done now, but for Ro-
berta's first winter IL would seem too
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