Detroit evening times. (Detroit, Mich) 1921-1958, 1941-03-16

She patted the cushions, pleased
with them, ashamed of her sharp
antagonism toward these Pa
tricks, who were so obviously
nice people.
At least, David was nice, and
very good looking too. He could
rot be quite so young as he
looked. Young men did not work
their way into responsible jobs
quickly these times. And selling
cotton in China must be an inn
portant business.
She looked over her frocksT7 de-
cided on a marquisette with vio-
let flowers embroidered on it and
-saucy-touches- -orange--It-
suited both her hair and her eyes,
and she ran down the stairs TO
ask George to press it. But
George was busy getting the
good silver out. grumbiing at the
furnished handles.
But why only four places.
George? Jeff viii be here-he
always comes TO dinner on i'm
portant nights. And this Is an
important night because I've
come home"
Nom" dark George went on
doggedly counting out spoons.
Nom. Mist Jeff, he amt comm.
He already sent word"
Rosemary let the Powered
frock trail unheeded on the floor.
But why - we never have a
party without Jeff. He's part
Of the family, practically. I'll run
down and argue with him. He
can't let me down like that"
pUT when she came 10 the gate
- Of Jeffs little house. where the
Honolulu Daisy lay stretched on
her wooden bed. there was only
Corporal Kehoe, cleaning paint
brushes and scowling sourly.
He amt here" he announced.
tartly Hes gone away on an
errand. Won't be back here till
late"
He had no business going
when he's supposed 10 come to
dinner" Rosemary complained.
Maybe he didn't want to come
70 dinner" Kehoe did not look
up from his smearing.
Rosemary went back 10 her
room feeling disturbed and a
little angry. Jeff had been diff
ferent-though she had thought
at first that it was only because
her own feelings We're edgy and
strained that she had believed
IT, But she felt il now. And
- the HOUSEWIFE different too. Not
Just the chlntzes nor the heavy
perfume Of the jasmine flowers.
The air was different George
moving her eyes too much and
kehoe not moving his eyes at
all
She slipped the lowered dress
on over her head and swished
her rusty hair back with the
brush. not caring very much how
it lay. David Patrick would look
at her. but he was an outsider
too. He was not Jeff. whom she
depended on-who had been part
of her life for five years.
She heard her father singing
all off key in the shower. a frag-
ment of some French song. and
then the jigging buzz of his cleo
trio razor She smelled the sharp
pungency Of the lotion he always
slapped on his hard cheeks after
ward. and the fishy richness Of
Georges Holsters broiling.
And then across the tops of
the orange trees. she heard a
screen door clap shut, and knew
that she must go down because
the dinner guests were on the
way. She dabbed a puff over her
nose. and hurried out. but quick
as she was, her father was
quicker.
He was pounding boyishly
down the stairs, twisting into his
white flannel coat, and before
she was halfway down. she
caught sight of the most beauti-
full woman she had ever seen.
Snow-white hair, above
young. cool, amused face, with
great dark eyes, slow and little
insolent, and narrow, red
mouth, Lorna Patrick stood,
small and perfect and slim as
- bird. before her tall son.
She was not old!
Dismay ran like ice through