The Wilmington morning star., 1940-10-09

Linda had to wait a long tims
before her call to Roberts club
wa answered. Finally a sleepy
servitor murmured the name o.
the association and waited.
MAY l speak to Mr.. Barton, Mr.
Robert Barton?" she asked. "He
may be there. He's taking a lat
train upstate tonight"
The sleepy voice became awake
Yes, Miss, he's here. You're MISS
Trent, aren't you? He said he was
expecting a call and it was impf
tsnt. Wait, I'll get him."
The man did not give her a
chance to say that she was moi
Billie Anne, and in another mo-
ment she heard Roberts eager
tones, calling her by another girls
name.
She did not answer She knew
that her voice would break if she
should try.
Instead she hung up and buried
her face in the pillows. Sob after
sob shook her slender body. Maybe
thi. was a good thing, she tried to
reason. She would cry it all out
now-all the disappointment and
Northumberland 60 dry-eyed for
ever
The next day was hot. The thin
white linen dress she wore seemed
to cling to her and her amber
curls, instead of staying in the
even rows in which she had trained
them, spun all over her head. Her
eyes were a clear, cool green. She
was methodical and orderly and
worked rapidly.
About noon Mr.. Bagley came out
of his office, bringing a noted pho
tographer with him. They eyed
Linda critically. Her employer ex-
planned: This is Mr.. Harrison, as
you know, Linda. He has to supply
a whole series of pictures for a
fashion magazine - the girl in
everything from a bathing suit and
negligee to an evening gown. It's
to be a honeymoon outfit. And he
likes your looks. Want to try it?"
Anything was better than sitting
at a desk, answering a white ivory
telephone which rang with every
kind Of business engagement and
nothing else, ever.
"Hortense will take 0 ve r for
you" Mr.. Bagley said.
Linda got her turban, which was
made from the same crushed linen
as the dress, and went with the
photographer. 1t was odd that he
had come down to talk over mod
els. Usually artists and illustrators
and advertisers alike had the agen-
cy send out n whom the director
thought acceptable, or at the best,
a few from whom to choose.
She spent the afternoon in the
studio, posing in one outfit after
another. She told herself that the
whole set-up was slightly ironical.
Here she was, going to move to a
woman's club, and she was aslted
10 be a magazine bride.
She did not 60 to the office the
next day, either, for the pictures
were not completed until dusk.
When she sat down at her desk the
third day Hortense said:
There's a telephone message for
you somewhere. Long distance.
The operator tried to call o
twice. Now where did I put it?"
She searched the desk, but the
scrap of paper did not appear.
when did the call come in?"
Linda asked. Was it yesterday?
Was it the afternoon before? And
from whom had it come? She told
herself that it was an unimportant
message, but she dared to hope,
as women have always hoped, that
Robert had tried to reach her.
And yet, why should he? EC had
said goodby, definitely, and h a d
gone away. He had no way of
knowing that she had tried to reach
him.
The message could not be found,
so Hortense gave up at last and
went back to her desk. A few min
iutes later some of the pictures OF
Linda came in. She looked at her
self, serene and cool, in the Dor
roWed finery. No one ever would
know that that girl had wanted
something she could not have.
Maybe life was like that, asking
you to take a pose and keep it, to
wear a mask all of your days, so
Bella LANAN-COURT RE