Page:Flaming Youth black on red.pdf/50

 be 46

FLAMING

s:

YOUTH

7

“J wrote to him,” said Pat suddenly.

“You did?”

The three incredulous voices blended.

“Yes, I did. He wrote to me. He was terribly sorry.” “Sorry for what?” asked Dee.

-

He asked me te answer,

“For—for acting that way. He seemed to think he'd hurt my feelings or something. I teld him it was just as much my fault as his.” “Did you, little Pat?* look

into

the

queer,

Her mother leaned forward to defiant,

chivalrous

Hittle

face.

“Perhaps you're older than I thought. But I shouldn't write any more, if I were you.” “T won't.” Mona went out, followed by her youngest. In the hallway, Pat gave her mother a light, familiar, shy pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for standing by me,” she said awkwardly. “Did I stand by you?” returned Mona. “I wonder if [{ stand by you enough.” Inside the room, Dee mused with a thoughtful, frowning face. “Think of the Scrub! she muttered. “What of her?” asked Constance. “Feeling that way. Already.“ There was a hint of unconscious envy in her manner. “About a man!” She sighed and shook her head incredulously. “It gets me,” she confessed. “Don’t you like to have a man you like Kiss you?” inquired Constance curiously. Dee meditated. “I don*t mind it,” she answered. “But I'd rather run down a long putt, any day.” To Dr. Robert Osterhout, whom she sought out after

her return from luncheon (with Stevens Selfridge) Mona detailed the conversation with and about Pat.