The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-06-14
Q SERIAL STORY
 pDlnE NA A nlINHET BY JANET DORIAN
 

college. But couldn't see it, Wed never make even my tuition, let alone clothes and everything
 But you did go, Bart?"
 After pneumonia got Mom, I decided I'd try for it. And busi- ness trade school was my best bet. I had the job playing the piano afternoon and nights at the old Bijou Theater, so it had to be something I could do outside of that"
 "So you see 1t was a good thing your mother believed in time pay ment buying, Bart! If she hadn't managed to get the piano and give you lessons, where'd you be?"
 "You don't understand, Iris. What I mean is, can't bear debts because of my fear of them. It it's almost phobia. I [. hope you never charge anything anywhere, ever. I couldn't bear it if you did"
 So - Bart must never know. And nights, when Iris lay awake, thinking about the accounts she was paying on, each week, shivers raced her spine as she contem- plated the awful consequences, should Bart ever learn her secret.
 Only he wouldn't. She com- forted herself with that belief. Bart need never know. She'd never tell him, and when they were all paid, she'd buy on @ cash basis, since he was so set on 1t. But it was silly. People who never used budget plan buying had practically nothing. And you had to look well nowadays or you'd be out of everything.
 So, little by little, she lulled her fears, and since Bart never mentioned debts again, it wasn't long before she saw something else she had to have. And could only pay small deposit down on.
 It was an evening gown this time. A gorgeous. heavy, printed linen it was, with a big splashy gold and green maple leaf against an ivory background. Really enormously effective in contrast with her glowing sun-tan, shining blond hair and blue-violet eyes. But-$25! ,..
 Marked down from $2995, Miss Mrs. Whitaker" the saleslady urged subtly, tits really a buy. Not another gown like that in Linwood. And you can wear those linens. They look like Paris on you"
 Iris bought 1t. She bought gold linen sandals to match, and a tiny beaten gold ornament to wear in her hair. And then faced the problem of getting her poodle H6 ga co L Pze QetShet home so her husband wouldn't see it.
 She took the dress home the next noon, and hid it away in an older suit box. She had wracked her brain for a suitable fable to explain the dress with, and had finally decided on some thing that would make doubly dear the new dress. She would make Bart think it was a last years dress. She knew he wouldn't remember; he never re- membered her clothes from one season to the next. Men seldom did, she believed.
 Hiding the box far back in her clothes closet, deep under pile of other boxes, she smiled little, planning how she would spring it on him.
 That night, dressing to go to the weekly Saturday night dance at the Yacht Club with John and Ellen Kent, Iris pretended to find great flaw in her pet dance dress.
 Goodness, Bart, this seam has come out! Whatever can I do? This late?'
 Needle and thread is indicated, wife," Bart answered, grinning, GOT doesn't one sew an evening dress?"
 Definitely not, Bart! It's a job for tailor, and mighty smart one. Unless you want to buy a new dress"
 Sitting down on the little gray enameled bench before the match ing gray dressing table, Iris was a convincing study of a perplexed, frustrated bride. Until her faintly frowning gaze swept the closet and a puzzled, hopeful smile tugged at her mouth.
 unless = oh, Bart, get me that pile of boxes, will you? Up there on the top shelf of the closet. In one of them I've an old linen eve- ming gown-one I wore last year several times, but didn't like. If it doesn't need pressing or clean ing-and I'm almost positive I had it cleaned before I put it away last summer-I'm saved"
 Bart was so proud of her in the new, but allegedly "old" last years gown. It was the best-look- ing thing he'd ever seen her wear. It was a knockout. She looked grand