Evening star., 1932-08-11
BABES %BRo oAOM4Y
6vNME OXoM

she can to make my name a by-word.N
Mrs. Foster slipped q dress back onto
a hangar and carried 1t back to the
closet.
IF you think my being here won't
hurt the club" Tony hesitated, or
reflect against you. Mrs. Foster--you've
done so much already to help me-
do want to stay. I've been happy here,
and I've done good work since I came
maybe. when it's all cleared up. I
can go on designing"
"Of course you will. Youth heals as
easily as it bruises. You've lost your
position at the studio?"
Yes. I can go back, when the case
is settled. but I'd rather not. 1t Was
unfair" hotly, for Montieu TO let me
CO. to penahze me for something
Mrs. Foster went on hanging clothes
in the closet.
Don't worry about It, my dear"
she advised Business is not founded
on Justice. It's founded on profits. Bus
ability and dependability count, too.
You will find another position, as g05d,
or better. I am sure of this because
Montieu had already sent for you. I
talked with him myself on the tele-
phone. He wanted to see you about a
dress called Heart of Ice" He was
as excited as could be and seemed very
disappointed when told him you we're
out He left word that you call him
at the studio the minute you came in"
"Oh, Mrs. Foster do you suppose
maybe Glace de Coeur-that's the
Heart of Ice model-'s a success.
Maybe Montieu wanted ME to do an
other La Lynton, the actress who
took the Heart of Ice dress. was raving
about the hideouS hostess gown she
had for the first act and demanding
that it be thrown out"
Probably that is it." Mrs. Foster
said. rejoicing that tears had been
dried by the harbinger Of returning
hope, of healthy ambition.
IF your work is better, then it will
be selected name or no name"
Tony shook her head. Her lips were
stubborn. Not this time. I'm afraid,
Mrs. Foster. I'm not going back to
Montieus"
Nonsense" Mrs. Foster clucked her
tongue She was a thrifty mother hen
admonishing her brood. Just you for
get every one except yourself. Don't
pay any attention to what folks do to
you so long as they don't keep You from
doing what you set out to do. Begin-
ners can't afford to think about per-
sonal pride. They have to take their
pride out in their work. Later, when
they're successful, they can have lust
as much pride as they want and they
can name their own brand"
You're right, of course. Just the
same" Tony reserved, I'm not calling
Montieu And don't want him to
get me. just yet. Uncertainty will do
him good. make him all the more eager.
I'll tell the girl at the switchboard not
to call me- Just to say I don't an
swer. That will be the truth, because
won't answer"
THAT reminds me, a young man. a
Mr.. Stewart, called in person while you
were out. He waited an hour or longer.
He seemed very determined. He asked
you to ring him at the Engineers Club"
Tom! Had he decided. then, there
was nothing about her having a car she
could not explain? If she had wished
to do so. Had he come to tell her he
wasn't a weakling? That he had not
played the fool the night he kissed her
as a man kisses the woman he loves?
Or was it something he wanted for Lee
of couree, it was Lee. Why shouldn't
she, Tony, understand, once and for
all, that Tom Stewart loved Lee? That
he would go on loving Lee? That he
would marry Lee today, tomorrow, next
month or next year, If Lee would con-
sent? Once and for all?
I'm not in to Mr.. Stewart either"
Tony said, reSolutely.
For the remainder of the evening
Tony kept to her room. Donald Kemp
would arrive in the early morning. He
would advise her what to do. And
| because he cared for her, deeply, she
knew, and sincerely, he would advise
her with wisdom and with caution.
The best antidote for a mind that
kept gallopi1g about IN circles intent
on plunging her into the doldrumS
again was her drawing board. She
would work on a hostess gown. The
hostess gown for La Lyntm in the
! first act of her show. Not that the
sketch would nlaterialize-ever. But
it was starting point. 1t presented
definite objective.
Tony stood at her window looking
out over the city that thrummed and
pulsed. The night sky hung low. 1t
was layers Of chiffon, blue over gray
over a lovely cool violet. Now and
then one caught the glimmer of a star.
point of pale topaz flame through the
thin topaz mist that was rising from
the electric city to reflect itself against
the sky.
Blue over gray over violet A founda-
tion of topaz metallic cloth, which
glimmered through when one moved.
like the reflected haze of the electric
of them scattered over the blue, star
cut, to give of points of topaz flame.
Tony bent over her drawing board.
She worked with swift, sure strokes.
The sketch grew. magically. It re-
vealed and concealed. Now the colors.
How they eluded herl Was it possible
for human mind to encompass and
translate a night sky? A sky Of blue
and gray and violet hung in a topaz
mist? The mist, frail, paipitant. would
not yield to the brush. She would have
to give it up. The whole idea. With
out the topaz mist the effect was dull,
lfeleSS Without the mist the topaz
stars were garish. Tony was on the
point of destroying the sketch. So
long as it existed, there on the board.
it would not release her 1t was i'm
perious for creation. She threw herr
self on the day bed, cropping, cropping
for the key to topaz mist.
She slept, but sleep did not release
her. She was wandering along a dark
pathway in a wood, hand in hand with
Tom Stewart Patches of night sky
shone through the trees, blue over vio-
let. Topaz mist sifted down, gilded
the leaves of the trees, turning the
woods into a lustrous, topaz forest
which glimmered and sparkled with
points of topaz fame. Toms dark hair
was gilded, too, with the metallic atoms,
and when she looked at their hands.
fingers intertwined, they were lustrous
like the forest.
Tony wakened with a start The
feeling of the topaz forest, of the night
sky through the trees, was so real that
she had difficulty in convincing her
self she was in her room in the city,
not walking dark path hand in hand
with Tom. The lights in her roeSc we're
still burning brightly. She arose, tram
celike, and bent over the sketch on the
drawing board without conscious ef-
fort now the brushes were dipping into
cnlnrS carving them To fnm To cling