Alice Adams

bend their entire attention upon the dress; and when the lunch-gong sounded downstairs Alice wa

her she nor the others of her family realized that the substitution of sweeter sounds had made the life of that household more difficult. In spite of dismaying increases in wages, the Adamses still strove to keep a cook; and, as they were unable to pay the higher rates demanded by a good one, what they usually had was a whimsical coloured woman of nomadic impulses. In the hands of such a person the old-fashioned "dinner-bell" was satisfying; life could instantly be made intolerable for any one dawdling on his way to a meal; the bell was capable of e

worst unless you paid her what she demanded. Nevertheless, Mrs. Adams remained fitfully an optimist in the matter. Brought up by her mother to speak of a female cook as "the girl," she had been instructed by Alice to drop that definition in favour of one not an improvement in accuracy: "the maid." Almost always, during the first day or so after every cook came, Mrs. Adams would say, at intervals, with an air of triumph: "I

the dress that they were but vaguely conscious of the gong's soft warnings, though these were repeated and protracted

YE!" it called

front doo

--" Mrs. A

dly to find out. Miss

ve times and got to talking to herself; and then she went up to her room and pa

e that in her eye when I paid her this morning, and I'm not surprised. Wel

and then Mrs. Adams prepared to wash the dishes; she would "have them done

protested, following her into the kitchen. "It rough

ok her head. "It can't be helped this time; yo

saw herself, charming and demure, wearing a fluffy idealization of the dress her mother now determinedly struggled with upstairs; she saw herself framed in a garlanded archway, the entrance to a ballroom, and saw the people on the shining floor turning dramatically to look at her; then from all points a rush of young

de it the more important-and she saw herself glamorous with orchids; discarded these for an armful of long-stemmed, heavy roses; tossed them away for a great bouquet of white camellias; and so wandered down a lengthening ho

y important to have them. "This might be the night!" She was still at the age to dream that the night of any dance may be the vital point in destin

sed of recognizable fragments of young men she knew-a smile she had liked, from one; the figure of another, the hair of another-and sometimes she thought he might be concealed, so to say, within the person of an actual acquaintance, someone she had never

room near a window, letting her glance wander over the small yard outside. The grass, repulsively besooted to the colour of coal-smoke all winter, had lately come to life a

s a v

ets. She found twenty-two, a bright omen-since the number was that of her years-bu

went thoughtfully into the house, left her twenty-two violets in a bowl of water, and came quickly out again, her brow marked wi

a blue dot in the groomed expanse; but at last, as she came near the borders of an old grove of trees, left untouched by the municipal landscapers, the little flowers appeared, and she began to gather them. She picked them carefully,

drizzle of rain at five o'clock her knees were tremulous with strain, her back ached, and she was tired all over

to: work so hard to get things that other gir

ly. "I've got 'em and I AM goin

r thing, and He wouldn't be mean enough to keep you from it. I may have to get dinner before I finish the dress, but I can get it do

tarily: "I suppose-well, I wonder-do you suppose it wou

It would only have given

he mi

e cross, but he won't be stubborn; just let me talk to him

ther, Alice having accepted her advice to sit in silence. Mrs. Adams began by laughing cheerfully. "I wonder how much l

wn family Walter was

" he said.

e, but there's

bother if you didn't. Get some down-town." He seemed about to rise and depar

gain. "Why, what nonsense, Walter! I'll bring your coffee

t so

ovely p

," said the frank Walter, mov

gin till about nine o'

ystified. "W

dan

t da

Palmer's dan

briefly. "Wha

it's TO-NIGHT, have you?" Mr

going to that ole dance," he ret

I got your clothes all out this afternoon, and b

E," he interrupted. "Got d

course y

in your head. I'm just as liable to go up to that ole dance at t

Walt

'Walter' me! I'm no s'ciety snake. I wouldn't jazz wi

lte

t's no use to 'Walte

ear c

Glo

and glanced at the demure Miss Perry across the table. "I'm af

eed, grimly. "Not if I haf to he

ty: "It seems very strange that you always obje

nce to an ironical laugh strictly monosyllabic. "Your friends!"

ffer a final brief view of his derisive

asped:

; and hurried after the truant, catching him a

lte

gruffly, and would have opened the door,

dinner. When I take all the trouble to coo

you're up to. You don't want to make

and made it tighter. "Walter, please!" she entreated, her vo

looked at her sharply. "Look here!" he said. "I get you, all ri

just

y n

lter. All the other girls have somebo

ody besides ME, I mean! Why hasn't somebody asked her to go? She

ou know why they don't run after her the way they do the other girls she go

peated. "'Background?' Wh

are for her and how brave she is about them, or you COULDN'T be so selfish! It'd be more than I can bear to see her disappointed t

he violets may have reached it. "Oh, BLUB!" he sa

t. "THAT'S a good boy, darlin

ted. "If I take her, wi

n Mrs. Adams showed di

that, and you can't tell what time o' night it'll be before sh

n't any

, fat

morning, and I can't bother him for any more; it upset

're liable to go to the poorhouse the way it is. Well

rain,

d we can take a streetcar to

shook her head.

nted, explosively. "I'll get her something

h pleased. "Do you know how to get a

It's a tin Lizzie, but you don't haf' to tell

agreed that