The Waterbury Democrat., 1939-06-12
SERIAL STORY I PDlnE NA A RIInHET BY JANET DORIAN
 

"Flowers? Ellen? What. for?" he demanded sharply. Iris faced him slowly, her hand with the powder-puff arrested halfway to her chin.
 "But darling" she exclaimed perplexedly, you always bring your hostess flowers when you dine outl"
 Bart stood up, taking his coat off carefully. It was 700 warm for his winter suit these days, but he couldn't afford Q summer suit; for that matter he couldn't afford to have his old summer suit fixed up so he could wear 1t.
 That's only for Q tnank-you when you dine at home, Iris; not dining out at shore place"
 He did not add, 'TIl probably get the check, because John Kent is always wool-gatnering when the check comes around, even if his wife does do the inviting" It would make no difference either way to Iris. She was Q stickler for doing the smart thing, the correct gesture always. Only 1t ran into steep costs at times.
 we can't accept their invita- tions and not even bring Ellen a small bouquet, Bartl With sum- mer flowers in, and 50 inexpen- sive, too.'
 "Ellen will manage" he said drily, If John comes up to scratch, she'll have 8 corsage way ahead of anything I could afford to bring her."
 He laid out his shaving kit and turned the hot water on in the tub. Rubbing the shaving father over his face, he watched Iris in the mirror over the wash-bowl, that reflected squarely the entire wall of the bedroom beyond, where she sat at the vanity mir- TOT.
 "We're eating at home tomor- row, honey" Bart said casually, cutting a neat lane through the drift of father and faint stubble, i've got surprise for you"
 "Oh Bart, not companyl" Iris exclaimed petulantly, "When you know how much I have to do at the office, and all this besides"
 Bart grinned silently at the "all this.' He did more than half the housework around the little apartment, and thus far, they'd eaten most of their meals out. Still Iris took her home-making seri- ously.
 "No, not company, honey. Just a book. It tells all about budgets and menus and buying and plan- ming meals. So we can begin to save a little"
 "It costs almost as much to live at home, Bart, as 1t does to dine out" Iris argued, with prices the way they are"
 You don't see any restaurant men going broke do you, Iris? No, and you won't. And this book tells how we can eat like kings on third of what it's costing us now. oStVCI 1OOQ, 1lOAllC SOOhS0, esAAA 01 third the cost"
 Iris said nothing. But the tiny line between her wide violet eyes was warning that she was think ing intently.
 All that evening, Iris was the life of the party. She flirted with staid John Kent when she danced with him, and leased Bart constantly. She kept them all in gales of merri- ment. She had such grand time herself 1t was a shock to discover it was time to go on to the play. And then all at once 1t was II, and they were home again, and yawning sleepily to bed.
 Next day, Bart managed to shut up shop directly after 5. He pulled the curtains as soon as the whis- ties blew, and didn't answer knocks on the door as he made everything fast for the night. But Iris was home ahead of him. Iris, clad in 8 faded pink check ging- ham gown with a ragged tear in one puffed sleeve and a tea towel pinned bewitchingly about her blond curls. Iris, bending over the stove, hurrying to and fro, study ing a cookbook. Cooking dinner.
 The bedroom was in order, the living room neat, and the table set. And 8 pot-roast simmered in the oven in an iron kettle, and vegetables steamed in the rich brown juices. On the window ledge an apple pie cooled, and she was deep in bran muffin recipe when he came in.
 Hi, wife of my bosorn," he greeted her fervently. She flung him a worried, abscent glance and wiped her damp forehead on the ragged sleeve.
 Hello, Bart" Iris answered wanly.
 That was the beginning. When the meal was on the table, Iris wasn't hungry. She was too tired to eat. Too hot. There was too much to do.
 Besides. you want to econo- mize. Bart, and you'll save what ever might eat"
 He grinned, not taking 1t seri- ously. It was too silly, really, to take in any other light than as a ]
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