The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-02-11

luxury of it. In her simple black office dress, she felt fitting com panion to the maid, and her hands trembled as she reached into her bag for a handkerchief.
 Two other young women were freshening their makeup at 8 vanity table, and they graciously made a place for her, and in- cluded her in their irrelevant chatter about the weather. Even tually she went downstairs with them. Sybil met them. She took Joan's arm and drew her for ward.
 "This is Bob's fiancee, Joan Barrett, she introduced. Joan, let me present Bess Havens and Lois Stevens though you've prob- ably introduced yourselves upstairs Come, Joan, my dear, the others are all so eager to know you, too"
 She speaks, Joan thought, like 8 person in play, so charmingly precise, as if she had rehearsed every word carefully but her eyes remain cold and remote, as if she weren't there at all"
 Sybil led her into the blue and ivory living room, and Joan felt a dozen pairs of eyes focused upon her, and 10 times a dozen pairs reflected from as many mirrors Mechanically she acknowledged Sybil's introductions, praying that she would not be forced to shake hands and betray, by the icy mois- ture of her own, the inner dis comfort which she felt.
 These women were to be her friends and neighbors, yet of all the eyes and reflection of eyes which burned into her, there was no pair which sparkled warmth and friendship. They were all Sybil's eyes, a dozen times over, cold and remote and unfriendly, though the lips that matched them smiled and murmured charming phrases. The friendly, f1eshy ma- irons whom Bob had presented were not to be found in this group.
 Here were the critics, waiting to tear her apart. Here were the so- cial dictators. soothing her with subtle smiles and velvety speeches as their eyes watched with eager impatience for one slight excuse to cast her from their circle.
 Cx,l,; Inr 4- where she might enjoy the cen- ter of the stage.
 Were all so very, very fond of Bob," she explained engagingly, that we feel we must know you thoroughly.
 Joan knew that the words Sybil was thinking were: that we want to know if you are good enough for him."
 T hope you won't find us too dull, Joan," Sybil chatted on Compared with you, we lead such empty lives" Then, in explana- tion to the others: Joan, you know, is Uncle Johns secretary. He tells me that he couldn't do a thing without her!"
 If the words were intended for fattery, the intention was lost. Rather, Sybil had called attention to the difference in their positions, and beneath the sugar coating of her words there was vague sting.
 The others, quick to seize an opportunity, followed up her words in the subsequent small talk. Did it not require years of training for such a position? Or had she started to work when she was very young? Not really? Seventeen? Think of it! Didn't get to college, then? How unfortunate! A good finishing school, however not even finishing school? Oh, dear! We'll, it was just too, too wonderful what young girl could do for herself these days . . of course, if one was that type.
 Jennings entered quietly, car rylng a tray or cocktallS. He walked straight toward Joan, pre- senting another problem. If she refused, she would be a prude and a bore, handicap to man whose business success depended upon his wife's diplomacy in social con- tacts. If she drank but one, and let its warm stimulation free her of t he overpowering tenseness which she felt, her laugh might become one note to shrill and the critics would whisper: What can you expect from common stenographer?"
 She chose the middle course Taking one from the profered tray, she slipped few drops slowly, then quietly placed the glass on the low coffee table in front of her. Her hand, she mo-