The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1937-04-26


he said nothing.
"And ID like to know" Bee went
on, facing her father hidden be-
hind his paper, whether you'd
like to buy my interest in the car,
or whether you'd like me to buy
yourS?"
The long day limped on. Mrs.
Wilson took down all the curtains,
took UP all the rugs. With her
sleeves rolled up, and a pair OF
Mr.. wilson's old slippers on her
feet, her head tied up in a towel
she worked like a slave, refusing
any help from Marie.
Marie walked to the branch IL
brary and sat there, looking at
magazines, feeling like a back.
slider and a cheat. Edward had
gone to Orinda with Press Hackett.
Something about job. But he
took his golf clubs just the same.
She turned the pages Of maya
zines, tried to concentrate. And
all she could see was Bees white,
drawn face.
The others didn't seem to see
how Bee felt. Her mother and
father we're completely callous to
it. What was the matter with
them? Had they forgotten what
it was to be in love? Edward was
almost as bad. He said:
It'll be the best thing for her
if that's the end of her affair with
Ritchie. He's too fast for her. He'll
never settle down and marry like
she wants. What is she incoming
about, anyway? She's got swell
Job. lots of friends. She's much
better off single than she'll be
married"
But a girl wants to marry"
she had said.
And he said: "Yes-that's what
makes all the trouble. Darn
fools!"
Did he mean that he was sorry
he had married?
CHAPTER XIII
Marie must have cried a little,
for the pleasant old man who sat
opposite her so often at the maya
zine table looked at her sadly and
questioningly.
She managed a smile.
bad time of the year for colds, P"
he said.
She could have Rugged him. 81
know-I've got an awful one"
Out of his pocket he brought a
small wax paper package, un-
wrapped it carefully. Il always
carry a lozenge or two on account
of my bronchitis, he said. Would
you care for one?"
She smiled at him damply.
Thanks lott" she said sincerely.
What did it matter that she didn't
have a cold and the thing tasted
like coal oil and soap?
Why couldn't Mr.. Wilson have
been like that, gentle and sweet?
Why did he have to go poking
into poor Bees business, going to
Richie Huntsman's bank and
making a fuss? 1t might even
cost Richie his job-and then
where would he be, even if he'd
wanted to marry Bee?
Guilty she thought of the things
Ritchie had said to her, nights he
had been waiting for Bee. The
compliments he had whispered in
her ear. The bold, questionable
compliments. The big brotherly
pats that somehow weren't so
brotherly at all. The long, ap-
praising looks. His reluctant de.
partureS with Bee.
But it wasn't my fault, she tried
to reaSsure herself, staring unsee'
ingly at "a design for a rose gar
den" in Country Life. I didn't
think he meant anything
Her nice old man was looking at
her again. when it's a bad head
cold like that" he said gently, "the
place for you, really, is bed. Dc
you live far away?"
She dabbed at her wet eyes, blew
her nose. II thtink you're right
No, I don't live far away-just ur
the hilton Shalimar-"
She closed the magazine, smiled
good-by.
Why couldn't all old men bt
nice like that? Charlie wasn't Sc
old, but he was nice, too. Mr.
Wilson (She couldn't call him Pop
and, anyway, he'd never asked hel
to- was always so jumpy and irri
table, even when he tried to bt
nice.
OF course, her nice old man il
the library, and Charlie, didn'
work. They didn't worry abou
money. Maybe, by the time mar
got to be as old as Mr.. Wilson, anC
had worked day in and day out TO-
all those years, committing to Sal
Francisco, punching a time clock
selling tickets, or counting tickets
or whatever it was he did in tn
railroad office where he worket
so long, he'd naturally get irritabl
and unreasonable.
Walking up the hill in the warn
spring sun, passing lawns ant
roses, and listening to bird songs
she felt benign and broad-minded
because she understood" Mr.. Wi
son.
AS she turned up Shalimar an
saw the house, with all its curtain
less windows, like dead eyes. an
a scrub-bucket on the front steps
her broad-mindedness dwindled
little.
Why couldn't Mrs. Wilson b
through by o'clock in the after
noon? And if she couldn't mar
age IL all by herself (and the hous