The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1931-07-04
HQaKtqfLh lane =
by MABEL MCELIIOTT

! the old lady something of a Gorgon
herself.
Tit might be fun" Lame fall
tered. "Oh Nuns, not that ]
shouldn't mind being away from
you! Of course I'd hate that.
But you said yourself that you'd
have to be going on the road and !
can't trail along. ThiS-honestly
now-doesn't it look like a gift from
the gods?"
Cass had to admit It did. With a
heavy heart she said, ITS settled
then? You want me to tell her
you'll conner"
We'll, mother" Lame looked
grave, ut seems a sensible thing to
do. I could at least earn my living
that way. It'll be better than the
ribbon counter"
Then with a mercurial change
the girl rushed across the room,
infolded the older woman in her
arms and cried, in a muffled voice:
do let me come along with you.
Vernon will let me play bits. Maid
parts, walk-ons. I'd rather. Why
do you so hate the idea Of the stage
for me?"
That passionate outburst settled
Cass. Never" she said, firmly.
Lets not talk about it. You'll go
to Mrs. CIeespaugh in September"
Lame thought, II can't tell her
now about Van Robard. 1t would
upset everything"
II II
ATOW they were packing. Cass
~ big oak trunk, the one which
HAD travelled with her to all four
corners of the continent, stood
yaWningly open.
It spilled furnished evening
dresses, faded scarves, shoes run
down at the heel.
"All this junk" moaned Cas-
surveying it in disgust. "I must
throw some of it away"
She leaned over and fished out a
pile of old letters, a battered scrap
book with an imitation leather
cover. Lame, sorting stockings,
stockings, looked up. Anything in
teresting there?" she asked.
Cass swept the pile aside with a
rather pettish gesture.
Nothing you'd care about" she
said.
"Tel-le-phonel" Mrs. smithers
shrilled at the foot of the stairs.
'For Mrs. Barrett -
Cass caught her printed dressing
gown about her and ran.
Lame sat there in the hopeless
confusion of the room winding rib
bons and smoothing out wrinkled
f1nery. Her glance strayed to the
pile of papers.
Out Of the heap idly she selected
the book. She shifted fastidiously
at it. The odor of shabbiness and
disuse favored it's pages. She
tipped them back, reading a clip
ping here, pausing to stare there
at the faded photographs. She
was deep in an old newspaper para
graph when Cass returned.
The older woman glanced sharp
~ at what Lame was reading, said
in a rather nettled tone, do give
me that old thing I told you there
was nothing to interest you"
But there is-Scads Of stuff" pro-
tested Lame. why didn't you ever
let me see it before? I'm fascl-
mated"
do give it to me, Lame. I'm
serious. 1 want to put it away 1t
should have been burned ages ago, .
cried Cass, strangely impatient at
the delay.
Lame glanced up, dimpling imp
ishly. I'm, crazy about it," she
cried. "All about what a riot you
were in Syracuse stock in 1908"
CasS stamped her foot in its
frayed satin mule. Almost there
were tears in her fine eyes.
Give it to me this minute, do
you hear?"
Lame arose with exaggerated dig
nifty and handed her the book. AS
she relinquished it photograph
fell to the floor.
"You can at least let me see 1t
you looked like as Juliet" grum-
bled the girl, STOPPING to re-
trieve it. She gazed curiously at the
inscription on the back of the small
cardboard.
"Luisa Emerson, May, 1909"
why, she looks astonishingly like
you, mother" marveled Lame
turning it over and regarding the
smiling features. The pose of the
pictured girl was consciously dra-
matte. She wore a swirling POM
padour, a rose in the curve of her
neck.
She's lovely" said Lame. But
mother, you never told me you had
a sister"
=
CASS, ominously silent, received
/ ~ the picture from her hands,
J Nov that you're quite through ex-