"ANN STEPS OUT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 1 December 1938, Page 12

"ANN STEPS OUT"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

By

MARGARET GORMAN NICHOLS.

CHAPTER ONE. . Aim Dryden was dressing not only for a party, but also for the return of Douglas from college. She sat before her three-mirrored dressing table patting her hair so that each blonde curl was in place. Her new dress, a wispy white thing for which she had sacrificed lunches for a month, lay on the bed ready for her —and ready for the smiling approval of Doug.

Suddenly her eyes turned from her own lovely reflection in the mirror and lingered on a gay snapshot of him. Doug in a bathing suit, smiling. The snapshot made her smile and she looked at it tenderly. It was so characteristic of him, characteristic of all the things with which she associated him —sunshine and gaiety and warmth. That was Doug—always. Her mother, a stout, matronly-look-ing woman, came in with a box in her hand. ‘‘Flowers for you,” said Mrs Dryden. ‘‘For me?. Who ...”

■ She took the box and opened it. Her fingers almost trembled as she lifted the corsage from the little box.

“Gardenias, Mother! Gardenias for me!”

“I’m sure they’re not too good for you,” replied her mother. “From Doug," said Ann. deeply and quietly. She touched the flowers with her fingers and pressed them to her face.

“He is coming tonight—in a short while,” she murmured. “And I haven’t seen him since, last summer. Mother, do you think he’H be terribly changed?” “Of course not, dear. He’s too sensible. Some times college does change a boy; sometimes it makes him grow away from his old friends.”; “And all the other girls he’s met . .” “But not Douglas,” comforted her mother. “He’s taking you to this New Year Eve's dance, isn’t he?”

“Yes. Maybe I’m silly.” She looked up. “You know, he can have any girls he wants. And I’m —I’m really nothing in comparison to the othergirls he knows—rich girls . .” “Earning your livingds nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Oh. I like working. I like the office. Oh, mother,” she gave the older woman an affectionate hug and released, “I’m silly, a very silly girl. I only think that if I ever lost him . . .” Mrs Dryden went out, cautioning her to hurry. Ann turned to her dressing again and to thoughts of Doug. But her sister, the sixteen-year-old Jean, came in. “I wish,” grumbled, provocative, cur-ly-haired, beautiful Joan, “that I were going to a party. I don’t go anywhere. Nothing but school now, and after that nothing to look forward to but a stuffy office. Life’s no fun without money.” “I haven’t any money,” answered her sister, “but I’m happy. Besides we’ve never had money. Father’s a dear, but he could never make money. And being in an office isn’t so bad, either.” “All right for you, maybe, but not me. I want to do things, see things, go places. I want to hit all the high spots.” “Infant!” laughed Ann.

“You watch me. I’m not. going to stay around here. No typewriter in front of me.”

“All right. All right. But I’ll take my happiness in small doses. It wears better.”

Jean fingered Ann’s dress and picked up her flowers. “Doug, eh?” and quirked a synical brow. “He hasn’t written to you for months, and the first time he asks you to go to this party, you accept. Say,” asked Jean, with the superior air of a sophisticate, “when are you going to get wise? Doug's gone past you socially.. When'he graduates in June, you won't hear of him again.” “I don’t believe it!”

“Ann got up and slipped the filmy dress over her head. It fell in shining ripples about her feet and clung lightly to her slenderness.

“You look swell,” sain Jean. “I wonder how I'd look in a dress like that."

Downstairs from the dining room Mrs Dryden called Jean. Some instinct told her that Ann wanted to be alone these few moments that proceeded Doug’s arrival.

Ann could not remember a time in ,her life when she had not been in love with him. They had played together on the same block as children—this same block on North avenue where the Drydens still lived. They had walked to school together—the yel-low-haired, slender little Ann, and Doug, dark-haired and tall for his age. In no time at all it seemed they were grown. Ann had finished high school and gone to work in the office of an advertising agency. Doug’s father had suddenly made a great deal of money and had moved his family to a pretentious home in Roland Park. Doug had gone to college. But despite the fact that the Drydens were the same simple, unaffected people who had great difficulty in making "ends meet” and Doug had gained social heights and received a splendid education, they still met often, Ann and Doug, and were apparently in love. She got up and put on an evening wrap which one of the girls in the office had kindly loaned her. “I feel,” thought Ann, “like Cinderella. When twelve o'clock comes, I’ll only be a little stenographer again.” When siie reached the last step downstairs, the bell rang. Not daring to admit, even to herself how nervous she was, se crossed the hall. Several things went through her mind then, things she didn't want to think about now —Doug's failure to answer her punctual letters, his excuses. But somehow at this moment those ugly little things were suddenly erased and forgiven. He was back. He had asked her to this party. She opened the door. Ann saw a tall boy with smooth dark hair, a smiling mouth, and burning dark eyes. And Doug, coming toward her, saw a lovely girl with pale hair and warm blue eyes waiting for him and wearing the flowers he had sent. Ann saw him thrust himself forward and then felt his nearness as he took her in his arms. Her old grievances fell away. The wide span that separated their lives did not exist now. “Ann.” he said, and bent his smooth dark head to kiss her. It was really a very gay party. And ■ the aristocratic grey stone house in Roland Park was alive with guests—men in immaculate tuxedos and young girls in their newest and most daring evening dresses.

When Ann and Doug came, Betty Reynolds, the hostess, met them and took Ann upstairs. In her bedroom there were more than a score oi young girls, and Ann was promptly introduced. They nodded calmly toward her, and then proceeded with their conversations. Standing in the exotic bedroom, Ann had the sudden and terrifying feeling of “not belonging.” She wished she had not come. The dress she had thought so lovely was commonplace in comparison .with the dresses these girls wore. Their talk of Bermuda and Europe was foreign to her. Never before in her life had she felt so horribly out of place. ~ “I've heard Doug speak of you,’ said Betty, vaguely, to make conversation, “up at the last prom.” She smiled. “Crowd of prom, trotters here tonight. Never miss a prom, of any college in the East.” Another girl turned around. “I heard that Gail Tracy was going to be here tonight." “She is here,” said Betty. “Trust her not to miss anything.” Immediately all the other girls turned their attentions to Betty when the name of Gail Tracy was mentioned.” “The most popular girl in Baltimore."

“She buys all her clothes in Paris.'

“She’s stunning.” ■ "Not even the most placid husband is safe with her.”

“In that case,” said Betty, “I think we had better go down. The competition is frightfully keen tonight and Gail is the only girl downstairs.” Silently Ann followed them down the stairs. In the drawing-room, which had been cleared away for dancing, she saw'a tall beautiful girl, surrounded by a group of young men. And among them she saw Doug.

She had often heard of Gail Tracy. The 'girl’s beauty and popularity had penetrated even her office. What Gail wore, her yellow roadster speeding down Charles street, her,newest love—these things were discussed everywhere. Girls in offices looked upon her with dislike—and secretly imitated her. They 1 waited during their lunch hour to catch a glimpse of her downtown, and spent the remainder of the afternoon dreaming of being the sort of girl she was. Now Ann was looking at Gail Tracy. No one could deny her striking beauty —smooth dark hair, heavy-lidded dark eyes, and fair skin. Tonight she wore a clinging black dress with a sequin jacket, and three diamond bracelets clung to her arm. Ann looked at her, completely captivated by her unusual beauty. Suddenly Doug was at her side. “I've been missing things,” he told her. “Gail Tracy has blown into town since I was here. And I’d say she was setting things on .fire." “She’s lovely,” said Ann. “You hear’ of her as though she were an actress.” “She is an actress,” he laughed. “She knows the words and music to everything. Come on, Ann, let’s dance. The lights were dimmed and the orchestra struck up a familiar song. Slowly the drawing-roorn began to fill with dancing couples. Ann rested her head on Doug's shoulder and closed her eyes. How different was this from what she had expected! She had planned and saved for tonight, and it was a really a miserable failure. She looked nice enough. “Too nice,” she thought. “So nice I’m not interesting. I have a clean, scrubby look like a baby just out of its bath. Nice but du\l.” “All right, Ann?” Doug asked. “Yes.” “Nice crowd here.” “Oh, fine.”

“They’re all my best friends. College friends, you know. We’ve had some great times together up at the proms at school.” Was he torturing her? Proms at school. He had never asked her to a prom. Once he had mentioned it and said, “I would have asked you, but I thought you couldn’t get off from work.”

"Let’s go get a drink,” he said. In the diningroom, standing by the table, Gail Tracy waved her cocktail and smiled. Ann noticed that smilelanguorous and alluring. Ignoring Ann completely. Gail caught Doug’s arm. “Douglas St John,” she said in a deep throaty voice. Doug looked at her and then . . . “Gail, I want you to.meet Miss Dryden . . .

“I am very glad to know you, Miss Dryden,” said Gail. She looked at Doug again. “This is our dance. Have you forgotten?” "But Ann ! .

"That’s all right,” answered Ann. "I want to go upstairs and powder my noise. It’s quite —all right.” She made her way through the throng of people; she did not look back. Somehow she could not bring herself to look at Doug dancing with Gail Tracy, and smiling down at her with the familiar smile Ann knew so well.

Betty’s bedroom was deserted. Ann sat down and tried to collect her bewildered thoughts.' Did she dare pick up her wrap and leave. It was unpardonably rude, but she did not see how she was to endure it for hours. She heard footsteps coming upstairs. Noiselessly Ann left the bedroom, and walked quietly down the hall. The door of the library was open and she went in and sat on a sofa before the fire.

All the flippant reminders of Jean came back 10 her now. "I have been trying to keep together the pieces, but ther are lost and gone," she thought. “I have been in love with Doug as long as I can remember and tonight ends it. When I stepped into his kind of life. I finished it. Jean, apparently, in her hard little way was right. Suddenly Ann looked up. Above her stood a tall man with silver lights in his blonde hair.

“I wonder,” said this stranger, "if you would take pity on a man who is very much bored. Perhaps you are bored,, too."

She was sure that tears lingered on her lashes. It didn’t matter really. There was something about this man’s face that was different, was kinder than those faces downstairs. "I’m not bored.” she said. "I’m left out." “Tell me about it,” he said. "I'm Nick Hamill. Who are you?” He smiled and sat beside her. Ann shrugged.

(To be Continued.)