Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1931-08-20
Published by Special Advancement With The
Chicago Tribune Syndicate
(Copyright: 1881. BY v. Sackyille West.)
IN TWO PARTS-PART TWO

IN TWO PARTS-PART TWO
ELSA, to her own CONSERVATION,
IN found herself answering as though
she were carrying on an ordinary
dialogue. II most certainly don't know
where Mr.. Sinclair's room is"
mo" said the apparition with a
sigh, Il suppose you wouldn't" And
in any case" Elsa added severely. IF
Mr.. Sinclair really is your father, you
have nc business to speak of him by his
Christian name. Where have you been
brought up? And smoking, too! You
seem to be a most extraordinary young
person. I don't understand in the
least"
mop" said the apparition, sympa-
thetically. We'll, perhaps it is a little
difficult, but I'm not really extraordi-
nary-we're all the same, everybody,
I mean, of my age. You see, I'm living
in a different year from you, that's all.
It's quite simple. I'm living in nine
teen thirty. You're in nineteen six,
aren't you? That's right. I'm just
twenty-three at present-my present
If only you knew about Einstein you'd
understand"
"Einstein?" said poor Miss Drank
some.
"Oh," said the apparition with some
Impotence, Il can't stop to tell you
about Einstein now. You'll find out
about him all in good time. For the
moment I can only tell you that I'm
living in the fourth dimension; so are
you, for that matter; but you won't
understand that, either. So you must
just take it from me, on trust. BY
the way, my names Daphne"
Daphne? Daphne what?"
The apparition stared. well, Daph-
ne Sinclair, of course. What else? Yot
didn't think I was married, did youi
Not me! You won't catch me marry
ing till I'm we'll over thirty, if then
1 shan't be thirty till nineteen thirty.
seven, shall I, if I'm born next year?'
oh said Miss Branksome, press
ing her hands to her head, Il can't de
these sums"
Never mind. l think that's right
But now tell me-" said Daphne, jump
ing off the sofa and coming up to Elsa
who shrank miserably away, "wha
d'you think of me? D'you like me o,
not? Take a good look. 1t isn't every
body, you know, who's privileged to SCI
their daughter as she will be twenty
four years hence"
Elsa gazed at the rose red dgur'
poised before her, so gay, so boyish
and the virus of q Mortified disapprova
entered into her veins. Never, sh'
thought, had she beheld so outrageous
ly impudent a creature, with its MOI
of short brown hair and the cigare
dangling from its mouth. The crea
ture seemed sexless, too; it might hav'
been a girl, but equally it might hav'
been a medieval page.
Elsa stared; she was trying to thinl
of the most crushing thing she coult
possibly say. Tell me-" she said q
last very slowly and deliberately, AR
you supposed to be a lady?"
Daphne flung back her head and ut
tered peal after peal of laughter. "Oh
you dear, priceless old thing" sh
cried, when at last she could speak
what is it you don't like about me
MY pajamas? My hair? But we al
look like this, you know. You Cal
hardly tell us apart. It's the post-wa
type"
Postwar" said Miss Branksome.
ooh, sorry, I forgot you didn't know
about that, either. I won't enlightel
you-no good giving people disagree
able anticipations. But, as I was say
ing, we all look like this. We don't g
in for vo%luptuous curves nowadays. w
like everything-how shall ! say?-
pared away. AS little fuss as possible
whether in clothes, or figure, or mar
nerS."
Cor morals, either, I should say" OBJ
served Miss Branksome, tartly. Sh
wa rather pleased with that. She fel
she had scored a point.
Daphne shrugged. "Oh, well, as II
that, perhaps you're right. 1t saves
lot of trouble. Nobody minds. you see.
She suddenly dropped to the grount
at Miss Branksome's feet and sat there
hugging her knees and staring up a
her hostess.
Funny, isn't It," she observed, II
think you're going to be my mother
Do let's go on %talking--I can't sta,
long, SO let's make the most Of II
Y--.- - l.