Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1926)

They Called Her Melisande CONTINUED FROM PAGE 71 something beyond Weston, something bigger?" "I don't know that I want anything beyond Weston, Florence. If I could do for a town what Boardman has for this one — " " But, Ted, can't you see ? Here we are, you and I, young, we've the whole world to pick and choose from. Think of it! And yet you want to settle down in Weston!" "There are worse places than Weston," Ted said shortly, not exactly liking the imputation she implied. "Maybe you'll find that out," he added, a bit defiantly. ened. You trembled and went hot and cold at the thought of what you must do. You couldn't do it for yourself, of course, no girl could. But for Ted you could do anything. For Ted's sake the big chance had to be taken . . . Women had done such things before, but they were women, wise and understanding. You were only a girl, a girl in love, a girl whose heart would break quite terribly unless your pride in Ted could equal your love for him. . . . Suppose you gave it up? Suppose you stopped annoying Ted, making him angry, instead fell in with his plan, married him and "Yes, and better places," the girl retorted "so why waste time thinking of the others? went to Weston to live? Then what Oh, Ted, after all it isn't the place so much as it is . . . well, in being contented with half portions. Do you see what I mean? You've got brains. Why do you want to waste them?" "I don't see that it would be waste." "Yes, it would. It would be wasting you, Ted. Weston is just about half your size. The way I see it, it's wicked to waste yourself on the little job when there's a big one you can do. Anyway, that's how I feel about things. If I can't live in a wonderful town I don't want to live at all. If I can't have the most beautiful clothes in the world I don't want any. If I can't marry a man who's aching to do big things I ... I won't marry anv one!" Ted Merrill got to his feet and stood looking down at her, his young mouth set in a grim line. Finally he said: SUPPOSE I can't get the best things in the world for you? Suppose I .haven't the ability to get them? Suppose I try and fail? Then what?" "Then . . . why, then ..." she hadn't dreamed it could hurt so horribly to say such things to Ted, hadn't dreamed that the world could hold such pain, "I'll have to get the best things . . . myself." A little breeze lifted the white curtain at Florence's window, played with it gently, then dropped the white folds and passed on. Abandoning her vain attempts to sleep Florence slid quietly out of bed and went over to the window. Outside, the night was soft and black. Nothing in the world so beautiful as velvet darkness, she thought vaguely, nothing except light. And light was only the other side of darkness. Ted! How wonderful Ted was! Florence sighed, nestling down in her small rocking chair by the window. If she could onlv make him see . . . Suppose he didn't. Staring out into the dew-washed night, she seemed to feel a cold hand closing about her heart. No use saying you weren't frightened, no use in the world. You were frightened, horribly fright 106 in his horse, reached for the fluttering bit of color and bound it on his arm. Her man . . . going to the wars . . . for her! Of course! It didn't matter where the wars were fought. It didn't matter that today men no longer used swords in the great battle. Today the field of honor was to be found in the roaring streets of cities. From all over the country men came riding . . . young men . . . going to the wars . . . Ted must go with them, wearing her colors, fighting the big fight . . . Mrs. Bishop told all her friends, over many cups of tea, that she was sure Florence would M5i it have gone off to New York if she hadn't quarreled with Ted Merrill. It was perfectly silly, of course, but young folks were young folks and you couldn't seem to do a thing with them. The dear knows she, Mrs. Bishop, had done her level best. She had talked to the both of them, said everything she could think of to bring them to their senses, but they just sat and looked at her. Stubborn, that's what they were. Like a pair of young mules. Even at that Florence couldn't have gone away if Aunt Florence Thomaslon hadn't chosen that particular time to send her namesake the gift of one hundred dollars. "V\7HEN she appeared The miracle had not happened. Ted was letting her go, letting her go right out of his life without protest No, she couldn't do it! Something deep down in the core of her being, something which was there when the first woman fought side by side with her man to protect the cave, something wise and very womanly, cried out against it. Such a course would be bad for Ted. She must never let him take the easy road. . . . Suddenly she was sitting high in a narrow window, watching a procession of men in armor come winding down a street which ran between strange-looking houses. A voice from somewhere nearby said they were bound for the wars. At the head rode a man with Ted Merrill's face; he looked up, smiled. Florence unwound the long, bright scarf from about her shoulders, leaned out and tossed it down. It fluttered in the wind, rose . . . Ted reined the doorway of the show room of Mose Kaminsky, wholesale dealer in ladies' cloaks and suits, Kaminsky looked Florence over with an appraising eye and then beckoned to his wife. "Say," he appealed, "she comes by a letter from Schuster, the Rockford Dry Goods Emporium, this one. She could model, Schuster says maybe. That one has gone who has modeled for misses' wraps, sixteen size, yes?" "Yes, a blessing from heaven she has gone! H'm," Mrs. Kaminsky regarded Florence dubiously. "Let her go down the show room once till I see how she walks. God forbid I should be blind like you, Moe, and hire us such models that walk like they are going out to feed the pigs. Go on now." this to Florence, "walk down the room like a good girl till I see, yes? " When Florence returned from her stroll down the length of the taupe-velvet-draped show room Mr. and Mrs. Kaminsky exchanged approving glances. " She should be sent from heaven ! " the latter pronounced devoutly. "Stylish she looks, but not fresh. Like maybe she is coming from one of these here boarding girls' teacher where they learn. "Maybe shedon't so much as smokecigarettes. yes?" "Nor .Irink nothing," Kaminsky added