1 by Gay street, so Jane always thought, did not live up to its name. Read Free Book Online

it.”
    Mother said a strange thing and said it bitterly: “There is no escape for either of us now.”

7
    Jane could never understand the affair of the picture. After her hurt and anger passed away she was just hopelessly puzzled. Why … WHY … should the picture of a perfect stranger matter to anybody at 60 Gay … and to mother, least of all?
    She had come across it one day when she was visiting Phyllis. Every once in so long Jane had to spend an afternoon with Phyllis. This one was no more of a success than the former ones had been. Phyllis was a conscientious hostess. She had shown Jane all her new dolls, her new dresses, her new slippers, her new pearl necklace, her new china pig. Phyllis was collecting china pigs and apparently thought any one “dumb” who was not interested in china pigs. She had patronized and condescended even more than usual. Consequently Jane was stiffer than usual and both of them were in agonies of boredom. It was a relief to all concerned when Jane picked up a Saturday Evening and buried herself in it, though she was not in the least interested in the society pages, the photographs of brides and debutantes, the stock market or even in the article, “Peaceful Adjustment of International Difficulties,” by Kenneth Howard, which was given a place of honour on the front page. Jane had a vague idea that she ought not to be reading Saturday Evening. For some unknown reason grandmother did not approve of it. She would not have a copy of it in her house.
    But what Jane did like was the picture of Kenneth Howard on the front page. The moment she looked at it she was conscious of its fascination. She had never seen Kenneth Howard … she had no idea who he was or where he lived … but she felt as if it were the picture of someone she knew very well and liked very much. She liked everything about it … his odd peaked eyebrows … the way his thick rather unruly hair sprang back from his forehead … the way his firm mouth tucked in at the corners … the slightly stern look in the eyes which yet had such jolly wrinkles at the corners … and the square, cleft chin which reminded Jane so strongly of something, she couldn’t remember just what. That chin seemed like an old friend. Jane looked at the face and drew a long breath. She knew, right off, that if she had loved her father instead of hating him she would have wanted him to look like Kenneth Howard.
    Jane stared at the picture so long that Phyllis became curious.
    “What are you looking at, Jane?”
    Jane suddenly came to life.
    “May I have this picture, Phyllis … please?”
    “Whose picture? Why … that? Do you know him?”
    “No. I never heard of him before. But I like the picture.”
    “I don’t.” Phyllis looked at it contemptuously. “Why … he’s old. And he isn’t a bit handsome. There’s a lovely picture of Norman Tait on the next page, Jane … let me show it to you.”
    Jane was not interested in Norman Tait nor any other screen star. Grandmother did not approve of children going to the movies.
    “I’d like this picture if I may have it,” she said firmly.
    “I guess you can have it,” condescended Phyllis. She thought Jane “dumber” than ever. How she did pity such a dumb girl! “I guess nobody here wants THAT picture. I don’t like it a bit. He looks as if he was laughing at you behind his eyes.”
    Which was a bit of surprising insight on the part of Phyllis. That was just how Kenneth Howard did look. Only it was nice laughter. Jane felt she wouldn’t mind a bit being laughed at like that. She cut the picture carefully out, carried it home, and hid it under the pile of handkerchiefs in her top bureau drawer. She could hardly have told why she did not want to show it to anybody. Perhaps she did not want any one to ridicule the picture as Phyllis had done. Perhaps it was just because there seemed some strange bond between her and it … something too beautiful to be talked about to any one, even mother.