Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1937-11-14

They sat in the warm, deep grass on a sunny
bank. Brown thrashers scuttled around under
the bushes and blue-j squawked while
clouds played tag in the sky and he asked her
how about the Prom; and Rosemary said no,
she was sorry, but she was dated for that.
His dark eyes glowered at that, for Rosemary
had not been unresponsive to his first hint of
invitation. He demanded to know how long
she had had this date.
-Four years." sighed Rosemary, but
wouldn't explain further.
Never mind. You'll be there" he chal-
lenged. "And Ill be there - and you'll see,
young lady"
Whereupon Rosemary took hope and wept
no more.
When the night of the frolic arrived. she
dressed herself in the wickedest frOck she had
ever possessed, garment of fame chiffon and
silver, with sandals and mouth and nail-tips
to match. And eyes sparkling with anticipa-
ton above it.
A light knock on the door preceded by
seconds the thrush of freshman, newly
translated into sophomore. with square
white box in her hands.
Flowers! Oh, from Bunny. She had thought
he couldn't. They were shoulder bouquet of
forget-me- nots and creamy Talisman roses.
Very artistic, sentimental, expensive and
fancy them with flame-red chiffon!
Rosemary backed across the room and
stood against the wall. defying them. If only
she hadn't had another dress! But she did.
There was that white one her Aunt Bess had
sent from Chicago, with the word that girl
couldn't have too many dance frocks and she
did think this one was sweet.
Very sweet i. and young and pure. Stiff
white silk, without spot of color, except the
still sweeter shoulder knots of blue and sunset
yellow. Angrily. Rosemary changed her shoes
and her nails. She left her mouth bright red.
There was something about the angry mouth
and eyes above the white dress = we'll. there
was Just something. The fame -colored frock
lay abandoned on her bed.
Downstairs she found Bunny pacing the
parlor He looked as nice as Bunny always
looked. Scrubbed pink and fresh and whole
some. He was tall Rosemary's curls Just
topped his broad shoulders. A prep school
injury to his knee had kept him from var
sity career in football. He would probably
have been good at it, standing up squarely to
punishment. That was Bunny's line. For
features he had nice blue eyes and really
sweet mouth. 1t seemed to Rosemary to have
acquired new twist lately.
Hello, sweetheart, he greeted her, taking
her cape in his large hands, and the way he
spoke, trying to be light and airy, put queer,
disturbing thought into Rosemarys head:
DO men weep? Grown men - shed tears?"
'Your flowers are lovely" she heard herself
saying, gently. Just perfect. This is going to
be a festive evening"
You bet," agreed Bunny, determined.
He rather stalked into the wide spaces of
the gaudiy trimmed gymnasium. He held his
head unnecessarily high. With his blue eyes
and fair hair he looked noble and defiant, like
Viking.
He held Rosemary too tightly when they
danced. 1t was like being Rugged by the
Alaskan bear at the ZOO. Rosemary looked up
to demonstrate and found him smiling set
smile over her head at festoon of bunting.
He wasn't even thinking of her. She was glad
when Pete Cole cut in.
What is the matter with Bunny tonight"
she asked.
Hes suffering" said Pete Didn't that
help!
Stan Harsons hand descended on Pete's