"ANN STEPS OUT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 5 December 1938, Page 10

"ANN STEPS OUT"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

By

MARGARET GORMAN NICHOLS.

CHAPTER lll.—Continued. They sat at oposite ends of the long divan when dinner was over. Ann stretched out her slim legs and rested her trim little feet on a footstool. Nick, who looked like a Viking giant against the rich, dark background of the room, smoked thoughtfully. Ann was strangely impressed. Was she growing up, she asked herself. Had she been up to this time just a child in love with a schoolboy sweetheart —blindly in love? Much as the thought of Doug hurt her, a remnant of the old love remained. She thought of him now and memories of pleasant things they had done together stirred afresh in her mind. A vivid memory was his return on New Year’s Eve, and his kiss. •‘Have you seen Doug?” she asked him. “Yes, and he avoided me.” Ann lifted her head. “Was Gail with him?” He nodded. She looked into the fire. “Can’t you understand,” asked Nick, “that your Doug had his pride severely hurt? He’s a vain boy and used to having his own way. You hurt him, and he turned to Gail who was all too willing to take him on the rebound, and add him to her growing collection.” “You said I needed to be taken in hand. I’ve always wanted to know how girls became flamingly popular, and what they say to make conversation all the time. Money doesn't always make a girl popular. Tve always wanted to know about girls like Gail Tracy.”

He smiled. “It’s rather a studied trick and a fast line. And there is that frightfully overworked movie word ‘glamour.’ When a girl can be aggressive and at the same time be indifferent to men, she attracts them. It’s rather hard to explain.” “When you like a man, you can’t be indifferent,” said Ann. “I know. Love, I’m afraid, until you meet the right person, is an unbalanced thing. Some day, Ann, we shall go very deeply into this subject of glamour and popularity. Men want to be seen with girls like that, but they seldom marry them.

“I was just going to ask you,” he said, changing the subject, “if you would go to a penthouse party with me tomorrow night.”

“A penthouse in Baltimore. I thought they existed only in New York and in the movies.” She paused a moment and asked, “Do you think Doug will be there?" “I don’t know. It’s doubtful. Don’t you want to see him, Ann?” “I wish I knew. I suppose if I really loved him, I’d call him back.” “You’ll go with me then?” She smiled at him.

“Certainly.. You know, you’ve shown me more adventures in less than a week than I’ve had all the rest of my life.” She frowned. “But there is the very feminine matter of clothes.” “Will you let me handle- that?” he asked.

Ann looked at him soberly. “If you did,’-’ she said, “then you would be what Doug thinks you are. And I defended you to him.” “You’re not angry?”

“It's funny, but I'rn not. If it were any other man but you I should be highly indignant.” “I'm just your guardian.” “Then I insist,” she said, “that you take me home at once, guardian.” In the dim hall light of her home they said good night. Nick lingered a moment —a silent, tense moment. Candid blue eyes met sober brown ones. He was conscious that something quite definite had happened to him tonight in the intimate quiet of his apartment —something not spoken but deeply felt. He left without a word. Ann caught a glimpse of his tall fine figure descending to the street. She turned and went upstairs to her room, not knowing that Nick Hamill was more disturbed and more profoundly in love than he had ever been in his life. The elevator, it seemed, was ascending to the skies. It stopped at the penthouse floor and Nick and Ann were ushered into an exquisite room.

“You’ll like these people,” whispered Nick. “They take you at face value.” The spacious room was splendid in futuristic furnishings. It was alive with people. An orchestra played softly. When Ann came out of the dressing room she looked for Nick and smiled at herself at the feeling of relief to find him.

“You wore black tonight because I told you it made your hair brighter,” he smiled, putting her arm through his. “Last year’s dress,” she told him. “Mother has been rejuvenating it all day.” It was impossible to remember the names of all the people she met. She danced with other men. found herself chatting with them, but always her eyes searched for the tall figure of Nick somewhere in the background. She was not quite sure how she felt about him. Had she been asked, she would doubtlessly have said, “He is the kindest friend I’ve ever had. I can tell him how I feel about things. I don’t have to spare anything with him. I've been closer to him in friendship than to any man in my life.” Young men tried to get her phone number. One tried to kiss her while dancing. A stout elderly gentleman trampled her silver slippers. A young married man bewailed his loneliness and sought solace from Ann. In this gilded atmosphere she moved as if in a dream. How far removed was this elegant party from her home and office duties! It was as though Nick Hamill had opened a new and glittering world to her. Nick claimed her again. “It's cold outside," he said, “but the view is excellent. Shall we take a bird’s-eye-view of Baltimore?” He put him arm round her to protect her from the cold. They stood silently side by side on the open balcony. Electric lights blinked their giant eyes and down below the double row of street lights on Charles street seemed like tiny lights in a Christmas garden. “It’s rather overwhelming,” said Ann. “When you get high up and look down on tmngs, it makes you feel very small.” “You don’t have to pretend with me,” ho said. “You're thinking of Doug.” “Yes, yes, I was. Habit with me, I guess. Do you think, Nick. I can find something or someone to take his place?” “You mean the place he has occupied in your mind?” She turned and looked at him. For

the first time since she had known him she felt the desire to be loved by him. But it wasn't really she though,! a desire to be loved. It was that she wanted to . borrow something from him some of his wonderful indifference, his strength, and his ability to see things clearly. Did some foolish hope of Doug, she asked herself, keep her from loving this man? Nick Hamill would never be a sulking boy. “You’re shivering,” he said. “Let’s go in.” “And dance,” she said. She did not tell him how much this meant to her, and how terribly important it was to catch it all up with her hands so that in less vivid moments she would have something to remember. Would he understand how few glamorous moments she had had in her life. CHAPTER IV. When they came back into the bright lights, Ann saw Doug dancing with Gail Tracy. Across the room their eyes met. Doug looked confused and angry, then faintly mocking. Gail, beautiful in a vividly red dress, danced close to him. “Steady,” said Nick. “I think I shocked him,” said Ann. “Naturally.” Hard as she tried she could not avoid Doug's searching eyes wherever she went. Toward the latter part of the evening, when she and Nick were talking to their host, Gail and Doug approached them. “I told Doug,” said Gail, “we should get together.” She smiled. “Miss Dryden is an old friend of Doug’s and you, Nick, were one of the unexpressed emotions of my youth.” Ann felt Nick’s firm grasp on her arm. It said, “Be natural. Don’t show how you feel.” Ann turned to Doug. “I thought you were back in school.” “I am due back,” he said, “but there’s too much going on around town.” His eyes never left her. There was perplexity in them. She knew the look. He had never seen her look this way before. He had never seen her outside the shabby atmosphere of her home, and probably could not believe that this brilliant and lovely Ann in her tight fitting black dress with Nick Hamill’s orchids, pinned to her shoulder, was the same girl he had known all his life, the girl whose encouraging letters had been missives of hope during his first homesick year at college, the girl whose slender, capable hands practically supported her whole family. Nick moved from her side. Gail took his arm. “Old friends,” said Nick, “should dance together.” He left with Gail. Ann faced Doug. “Old friends should dance together,” he said finally. How familiar it was to be dancing with him again? Would nothing, she asked herself, time or change, lessen the feeling she had for him? When they met briefly like this, though the old love was finished, would this same feeling possess her at the mere touching of hands? (“You seem ,to be stepping out,” he said. “Nick Hamill has made other girls step out. He’s famous for that-.” “I don’t think you ought to be sarcastic about him.” She wished that he would not talk. This dancing together again recaptured for her their tender intimacy of old. “If I thought I had been wrong about you,” she said, “I’d gladly apologise. I've though it over very carefully. 1 think this way is best —your way and my way.” “Separate paths.” “Yes. I waited —too long. I’ve missed lot. If,” she lifted her head, “I had been sure of you, I wouldn’t have minded the waiting. You .see, all this, parties like this, you’ve had and I’ve missed. And I stayed home and waited. It was 100 much to ask.” Doug looked away. “Nick Hamill,” he said bitterly, “is teaching you fast.” “You’re not fair. I came here of my own accord. I know what I’m doing.” “You weren’t cut out for this?” “I shall know in good time,” said A.nn, “what I was cut out for.” She was thankful when the dance ended, and she was baek beside Nick again. "How did it go?” he asked. “Terribly,” she smiled wanly. “What did Gail say about him? Her eyes followed us all around the room.” “I’m afraid she’s made a dead set for him. May as well tell you.” “You don’t have to tell me. I know. It's hopeless.” “Do you want to go now?” “Let's. I’m sorry his coming here has ruined the evening.” “Which proves you couldn’t cast him aside as lightly as you thought,” “You understand me,” said Ann. She was silent during the drive home. As on the two previous occasions Nick Hamill lingered only long enough to say good night. Again she had the feeling of wanting to be held by him and of pressing her face against his coat. It was not the same feeling she had with Doug. As long as she could remember, she had given strength to him; she had always been there when he needed her.

“People don’t have to actually say a great many things,” said Nick. Her face clouded. Impulsively she pressed her face against his rough coat. “You know I still love him. Is that what you mean?” The “eternal problem of Jean” was taken up one morning before Ann left for the office. She went in her sister's room and awakened her. Jean rubbed her eyes sleepily and frowned. “You've had quite a vacation,” said Ann. “It’s time you got back to school again.” Jean yawned and gathered her wits. "I'm not going back,” she said. "I told Mother I was through. How is Latin and geography going to help me out?” Jean was obstinate, and Ann had always found it difficult to argue with anyone. She loved Jean, humoured her, gave her clothes and pin-money and could not. even in the all important matter of education, argue with her. “You’ve given me enough,” said Jean. “If I get a job, you’ll have more for yourself.” Ann smiled appreciatively, knowing that her sister’s generosity was not prompted by unselshness. It was Jeans crafty little way to make things easier for herself. “I’ve thought it all out.” said the younger girl running her fingers through her curls and looking unusually sincere. Ann listened with an odd, understanding smile. “I’m not cut out for business. It would bore me to death. And the idea of marrying some

struggling young man and living on next to nothing doesn’t appeal to me either.” She pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and asked Ann soberly, “Do you think I’m very goodlooking?” “Of course, you are,” she answered glancing at her watch. “You won a bathing beauty contest last year, didn’t you? And you know perfectly well that men turn around twice to look at you.” Jean shook her head vigorously. “Exactly. If they turn on the street, they'll pay to see me, won’t .they? That’s what I figured out. I'm going on the stage.” “When I was your age, I thought I wanted to go on the stage, too. It isn’t a matter of beauty, you know. It's training and ability.” “Not for a hoofer. I can dance and carry a tune . . ." Ann sat on the bed. “Jean, you’ve got to get that out of your head and come down to earth. New York is full of starving girls with stage ambitions —beautiful girls. Besides, you’re too

young. When you finish school . . .” “Go back? I won’t do it. I'm not,” she said as a thrust,” going to let happen to me what happened to you. Fall in love with some boy and forget everything else, wait for his letters, and stick around the house waiting for him to call.” “But 1 didn't mind,” said Ann. “When you care, you don't mind." “And now,” continued Jean, “after all these years of fooling around with Doug, you've just come to.” She leaned forward, “Say," she said softly, “tell me about the penthouse party? Were the clothes elegant? You see,” she lifted her eyes, “I’m not going to wait. I want things and I’m going to get ’em myself.” “I like your ambitious nature, but you can’t go now!” Jean dropped her lashes and sulked. “I won’t be told what, to do! It's my life . . .“ (To be Continued.) 1