Evening star. [volume], January 13, 1929, Page 4, Image 90

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
4
TV/T A Qlf Q By nez Haynes Irwin
W
t He Saw Smooth Sailing Ahead on Matrimony’s Sea.
ASTRANQER, glancing at them,
might have thought they had
quarreled. He sat on a couch
at one end of the room, his
arms stretched along its back,
i £hf sat on a couch at the other end
off the room, her hands clasped in her
lip. They gaxed at each other . . .
e/Eared . . . glared. But no. it wasn’t
glaring! They were eating each other
up with their eyes. A ferocious happi
ness sparkled‘Tk his—they were blue.
A lambent wonder slowed in hers—
they were hazel. Suddenly and simul
taneously they leaped to their feet and
flew into each other’s arms.
The truth of the matter was that they
Just become engaged.
The lady freed herself after a few
minutes. "Go back to that couch!’’
she ordered, in a haughty voice. ’’l
wish to talk business. But I see that
I shall have to keep the distance of a
room between us. Besides. 1 expect
Freddie Marshall.”
'Darn Freddie Marshall!” Stephen
remarked, with conviction. ‘‘Five min
utes for business!” he permitted. “I’ll
hold the watch on you. Kathleen.”
He moved back to his couch. She
moved back to hers. From every move
ment he made snapped a perceptible,
swift vigor. From every movement she
made emanated a subtle, languid grace.
Between them stretched a room deli
cately conceived in pastel colors. A
huge Chinese rug a pale blue
and gold sheen on the floor. Furniture,
French and fragile, dotted this sheen
rather too frequently; the frames, in
laid brown wood; the upholstery, a
time-worn pale yellow brocade. Cur
tains. faintly rose, sifted the daylight
and gave It glow. At irregular Intervals
were lights with shades of the same
color. Ivories, crystals. Japanese prints, ‘
miniatures, all pallidly toned, frail, an- ‘
cient, rare. ... , , ;
Kathleen’s personalty lay passive as '
a lily leaf In this mellowed quiet; but
Stephen Stowe set up strange, electric '
currents there. ;
“I don't deserve you, of course,
Stephen said. “And I’m sorry for the
other fellows! Marshall, now. Mar
shall’s really awfully decent, in spite
of his money. How could you. Kath- •
leen, turn down millions in favor of a
poor, starving book publisher?”
“The correct remark here,” Kathleen
said, “is that money Isn’t anything. But
I don’t believe that, of course. Money’s
almost everything. I’ve never had
enough money at any time In my life.
However, when it came to the ques
tion of Freddie Marshall and you
"When I think what a lucky chap I
am ** he took up his triumphant paean. J
“You aee, a man in my business needs ‘
a wife like you. You’ll have to enter- ;
tain all kinds of people. Os course. I ‘
would have loved you. you being you.
If you hated people and had no knack
with them. But as it is, I'll say I’m j
U “Do you think it wise to have social 1
relations with all kinds of people?”
Kathleen asked. . . .
“I particularly want social relations,”
Stephen replied.
“It all sounds interesting enough.”
Kathleen declared. “I’ve never met
manv clever people, only rich ones.
Which brings me. thanking you humbly
for those kind words, to this question:
Where am I going to do all this enter
taining? Where shall I exercise my
well known tact and diplomacy?”
“You know you said you’d marry me
in June,” Stephen reminded her.
“I know I did.” she answered, “and
I intend to keep my word. In these
last three minutes I’ve been planning
the wedding and my wedding dress.
But again, where are we going to live?”
A slight shadow' dropped over
Stephen's glowing face.
"Os course. I can’t do you like this!”
The wave of his arm took in the broad,
beautiful room.
“ ‘Whoever asked him to, sir, she
aaid,’ ” Kathleen commented.
“I had thought,” Stephen said a little
tentatively, “that perhaps you’d be will
ing to go down town. Apartments are
expensive .there, but houses are cheap.
Would you object to living there?”
“No, indeed.” Kathleen answered,
•‘until we’re prosperous enough to come
uptown again.”
There was another embrace and then
he said. “I’ve got to get back to the
office. I’ve an engagement with a girl.”
“So soon?” Kathleen commented.
“I’m hiring a secretary.”
“When you come to that, I’ve an en
gagement with a boy friend,” Kathleen
warned him.
“So soon!” _ .
“Yes. Freddie Marshall. The house
he’s building in the country Is almost
finished. He asked me if I’d advise
him about decorations.”
♦* * *
QTEPHEN was scarcely ensconsed at
his office desk when the recep
tion clerk appeared. “There’s a lady
to see you. Mr. Stowe.” She placed a
card on the desk.
"Lucille Nevins.” was written in a
big, clear hand, and under it. “apply
ing for a position as secretary.”
1 “Send her in!" Stephen ordered.
Stephen signed a letter, turned to
ward his visitor—and barely suppressed
a start. The girl was a replica of Kath
leen. No, not a replica! A variant of
her type, strange and coarse. No, not
coarse exactly.
' perhaps if he had never seen Kath
leen he might have thought this girl
Eersonable. But now he was conscious
nly of an odd sort of unease and dis
taste. a perturbing pity.
Superficially the features and colors
of the two girls coincided. But where
Kathleen showed a skin like satin this
girl was colorless, unlustrous. In the
place of Kathleens gleaming, hazel
eyes appeared, deep-set and far apart,
eyes that were too black. The delicate
rose of Kathleen’s exquisite mouth was
transmuted to a too full crimson; the
thin, smooth arches of her eyebrow's
to black bows that were too thick. And
while Kathleens bob was brown and
clung to her head in waves that Beemed
materialized shadow, this girl’s hair
was ebony, lying in shining furrows
too deeply indented. Everything about
her was too pronounced.
“Miss Nevins.” Stephen began, "will
you tell me what your experience has
been?”
Miss Nevins answered his question
fully, though concisely.
Her voice, Stephen thought, was too
deep. Yet something from it vibrated
In the air after she had ceased talking,
and he liked that.
• Suppose I test you now," he sug
gested.
She took a note book and pencil
from her bag. At random Btephcn
picked a book from his desk and dic
tated half a page.
Miss Nevins moved over to the type
writer, busied herself for an Interval, |
stopped, pulled out the paper, and with
out looking at it handed it to him.
Stephen studied it. I
“There’s no doubt of your qualiflea- .
tions,” he commented finally. “But j
here are some questions I d like to ask :
you: Do you like people? Are you'
expert at handling them? You see, i
this job is—l don’t know- exactly how i
to put it—semi-social.”
“I like people,” she stated simply. |
“They interest me more than anything
in the world—more even than books, \
And I’vr dealt with many types of hu
man beings. My last position was in a
broker’s office.” The golden blaze went
out of her eyes and a silvery sparkle
took its place. “That mads a man of
me!”
Stephen liked that last phrase.
“I prophesy that you’re going to do,
Miss Nevins.
They discussed terms.
‘Everything is arranged." I think,”
Stephen said, rising. “Will you report
for work Monday morning?"
“Yes, Mr. Stowe.”
Suddenly Stephen had a strange im
pulse.
“This is no way for a prospective
employer to conclude an examination,
and I don’t know why I tell you this,
Miss Nevins. Perhaps because I’m so
happy. But this is a special da,v for
me. I have achieved my first fiancee
and my first secretary.”
“Oh, let me congratulate you!”
“Thank you,” Stephen said.
“Oood-night, Mr. Stowe.”
** * *
'T'HE next two months were the most
rapturous of Stephen Stowe's ex
istence. Outside the office his happi
ness was immeasurable and incalcula
ble.
Kathleen was a perpetual delight.
Every evening found him with her,
either in the capacity of escort or for
an evening of talk in the lovely rose,
yellow and blue room. On Sundays
they rode, or drove, or walked. Fre
quently he called at the tea hour. This
function did not. however, distill so
unalloved a joy. Some one else always
appeared, If only Freddie Marshall.
With Freddie he was drawn into long
discussions of furnishing and building
houses.
"Oh. it’s such fun!” Kathleen sighed
again and again‘ to Stephen; “that
glorious sense that there's no limit put
on you. Oh, how I do love to spend
money!”
This did not surprise Stephen. Kath
leen was quite frank about her famous
father. Daniel Corey, promoter, was
always working on a shoestring. It
wasn't so bad now', Kathleen had once
confided in Stephen, as when she was
a girl. Then she would own two auto
mobiles one week and none the next.
At the end of one term she would come
home from her smart school to a house
from which the unpaid servants had
fled, and at the end of the next term
to the same house glittering with liv
eries and crowded with guests.
Kathleen was so busy with Mar
shall’s interests that for a while Stephen
said nothing about their plans. A fool
ish pride made it a little difficult to
contrast the two establishments.
Inside the office his satisfaction knew'
no bounds. More than any other per
son in the establishment, Miss Nevins
helped to create Stephen’s sense of sat
isfaction. She was a swift worker and
an eager one. Her letters were models
of accuracy. By imperceptible degrees
she took over more and more of his
work.
He found that he liked Miss Nevins
a lot as time went on. Os course, he
pitied her a little for being only a
coarser, deeper colored copy of Kath
leen. Still, he reflected, just to ap
proximate Kathleen was physical for
tune. Not that Miss Nevins was with
out points of beauty. He liked to see
her enter the office, her skin ensan
guined with Winter roses. It was
strange that a person who was so vital
could become instantly so quiet. So
far as Stephen w r as concerned, her
quiet was her best quality. It was as
though he were alone and yet com
panioned. That sense in him of her
efficient nearness brought out strange
impulses.
The day he bought Kathleen's ring
©
liSnEl 1
I \ ijivr
4 jy w
Woman Who Was Samaritan of War Is Living Here
BY DON GLASSMAN.
APPLIED to Mrs. Anna Lans
burgh of 2240 Cathedral avenue
northwest, Americanization U a
modern myth, a ghost that
never walked.
But four years in this country, this
26-year-old Viennese has for two years
been engaged In teaching native stocs
how to be better Americans. This she
has done, first, by example; second, by
a spontaneous generation of ideas, ana
third, by giving competent aid. material
assistance and worthy patronage.
She burst upon the American scene
in 1924, all flushed and vivacious over
the prospect of seeing the golden land,
she had interests here, or rather,
charges. Many proteges had been
transplanted from the economic deserts
of Austria to the fertUeness of this
hemisphere. Some had flowered where
first they became rooted, while others
suffered from transplanting. Just why
thev were suffering and whether their
travail could be allayed—these were
purposes of her journey. While she was
attending to these affairs the American
swirl engulfed her. Marriage with H. B.
Lansburgh of Washington followed in
1927: the Viennese “Samaritan” em
braced American citizenship and her
physical self was lost to the Old World.
Vienna knows her well for her man
agement of war refugees. Half a dozen
governments have voiced recognition of
her work in rehabilitation and repatria
tion.
At the outbreak of hostilities, Vienna
awoke suddenly to strange news that a
13-year-old “wonder” girl, Fraulein
Anna Lorbeerbaum, had taken charge
of war-stranded foreigners in the
Austrian capital.
She engineered their free transporta
tion out of the war zone by appealing
to steamship officials and attaches of
the Italian government. This done, she
turned to teaching refugee children, to
performing volunteer nurse work, to
| completing her education in English.
1 German. French, Spanish. Italian and
t Arabic, all of which she speaks and
I writes. Where service and assistance
, were required she was to be found.
She managed and maintained a refu
: gee headquarters, which was distinct
I from all other agencies engaged in sim-
I ilar work. There she met and discussed,
j She never appealed for funds, and yet
never contributed from her personal
I fortune. How did the money come?
; Ah. that involves her stsrer, Fraulein
i Marie, who at the age of 9 studied the
< stock market and made enough money
i thereby to run a business of life-saving
1 and rehabilitation on a grand scale.
Thus two children, advised and in
spired bv their parents, performed
human service that brought encomiums
from officials of many nations.
Tli" governor of Ixiwer Austria voiced
honorable mention of Anna Lorbwr
baum’s successful work In repatriating
refugees, and at the same time wel
com'd her newest undertaking of per
suading foreign governments to provide
for the return of aliens still living in
Austria.
Police headquarters of the City of
Vienna acknowledged her work and In
tercessions on behalf of stranded for
eigners. Police officer* in another let
ter expressed thanks for her assistance
in relief work.
TFTE BTOTD'AY STAR, WASHINGTON - , T). C.. JANUARY 13, 1929—FART T.
he handed it over for Miss Nevins’ ap
proval.
“Oh, how beautiful it is!” she ex
claimed. “I particularly like sapphires.”
It lay in her palm, emitting as she
turned the stone to the light flashes
of velvety hue.
“And I like the platinum setting and
•those square-cut diamonds."
She picked the ring up, poised it at
the tip of her own left ring finger.
Suddenly she dropped It back into the
box.
“i nearly tried it on!” she explained,
aghast. “How horrible! It wras quite
instinctive, I assure you, Mr. Stowe, not
premeditated.”
"Os course,” Stephen laughed.
“Women always try on each other’s
rings and hats, don’t they?”
** * *
A S the season wore on Kathleen grew
thin and tired-looking, although
she declared that she had never felt
better.
"It’s that blamed Marshall place
that's wearing her out,” Stephen
thought to himself, more than once.
He was delighted when it became ap
parent, toward the beginning of March,
that her work there was nearing its
end. He had held oft on the subject
of his own plans, knowing that it
would exhaust Kathleen to do two Jobs
at once. Then, one day, an idea struck
him.
“Miss Nevins. you live downtown,
don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes."
“I wonder whether, if I let you off
an afternoon now and then, you’d be
willing to look up houses for me? Miss
Corey is absorbed at this moment in
the decoration of a big place. I thought
we could save her time and energy if
you would look over the field and find a
half-dozen houses that might appeal to
her?”
"I’d be delighted to do It,” Miss
Nevins replied. “I And house-hunting
very fascinating.”
Miss Nevins devoted that afternoon
and a second and a third to this er
rand. On a Saturday she telephoned
him.
“I’ve found something that seems to
me highly desirable, Mr. Stowe. Oh, it’s
simply—it’s so good that, if you wish,
I’ll get the refusal for it over Sunday.”
“Do that!” Stephen ordered imme
diately. “I tell you what I’ll do. Miss
Nevins. I’ll go tomorrow morning and
look at It, and. if it’s what I think we
want, I’ll bring Miss Corey there in the
afternoon. I don’t want to bother her
can be recomputed
Mrs. Anna Lansburgh, American Resident for Last Four Years, Known to Gov
ernments of World for Management of War Refugees—Expert in
Rehabilitation and Repatriation —Letters From Royalty.
The ministry of communications ad
mitted it was through her effort# that
refugees returning home were granted a
50 per cent reduction in rail fare
The government of Czechoslovakia
recognized her service in obtaining pass
ports for refugees to Egypt, SyTia and
Palestine, in furthering the movement
of “children to the country” and in
providing for youths during their voca
tional training period.
The United States mission to Austria
inquired whether It could be of service
to her In rehabilitating war sufferers.
The Vienna office of the United
States Communication Service allowed
her use of telegraph and radio system
for sending and receiving messages.
The British military mission issued a
long encomium. It told how the young
humanitarian had spent a fortune in
helping Jew and Gentile to food and
habitation, and how glad the English
men were to aid her with supplies and
motor transport whenever she applied
for them.
** * *
the end of the war Austria’s little
•*-* Samaritan was 17 year* old. She
had already interviewed ministers, am
bassadors and governors. But now,
with censorship abolished, the whole
world was her theater. Seeing over
whelming numbers of war sufferers
homeless and without work, she evolved
a plan of colonization. No minister of
foreign affairs ever was more ambitious
in carrying out a program.
Under her own name and seal she
sent out letters to every government in
the world, written in the language of
each respective country and conforming
with variations in epistolary etiquette.
“I appealed to them.” she said. “I
told of the harrowing life of a refugee.
Here in Austria were skilled workmen,
artisans, mechanics and tradespeople.
There was not enough work for all.
Families suffered, children starved.
But other countries had need of tal
ented workmen who could increase the
national prosperity.
“Where the country Is a republic I
addressed the letter to the President;
where a monarchy I addressed it to
the King; where a colony I addressed
it to the governor; in America I sent
letters to. governors of every State in
the Union.”
What came out of this appeal sur
prised Austrian officials, as well as the
letter writer. Practically every gov
ernment In the world sent answers.
Prime ministers, Kings and Presidents
wrote under royal seals and in their
own handwriting. Particularly the
small nations were deeply Interested,
end asked for more information on the
prospective settlers. Large govern
ments replied with curt dignity. But
for some small commonwealths the ap
peal from Vienna was an event In
with a trip that might be useless.
Who’s the agent?”
Miss Nevins started to tell him.
“I wonder.” Stephen interrupted, "if
you’d go with me tomorrow? I’d like
awfully to see It first with a woman
who understands such things.”
"I’ll be very glad Indeed to do that,”
Miss Nevins answered.
The next morning a taxi took them
to a quiet neighborhood in a quaint old
section of the city. The street was
lined with houses of old red brick, shut
tered In green; steps and yard railings
were of a gracefully figured Iron, A
Sunday calm lay upon everything. The
air was gracious, the sky amiable. The
sun was painting the entire scene with
faint gold. They stopped at a house
midway in a block between two
churches.
Miss Nevins said eagerly, "Will you
let me show the house to you in the
order I prefer?”
"Do,” Stephen entreated.
She took him downstairs first. What
at the back had been the ample old
kitchen was now the dining room.
Here the generous old fireplace partic
ularly engaged Stephen. But his gaze
had acquired a curiously remote ex
pression, as though he were contem
plating something in his own mind.
He dropped remarks, at once absent
and thrilled: “What a bully fireplace!
. . . And the paneling in the doors!
. . . I’m glad they’ve done so little
to it!”
He followed Miss Nevins upstairs.
She took him into the front room, high
ceilinged, with two marble mantels and
a beautiful cornice.
"Curious how stately it is.” Stephen
commented, “empty like this!" Still
his gaze stayed, as though he were
watching the pageant with which his
imagination peopled the quiet spaces.
Miss Nevins preceded him to the
room at the back. It stretched the en
tire width of the house, the back wall
All glass.
“Oh! ” Stephen exclaimed.
He was gazing on a garden filled
with trees. Looking up, he saw that
their top branches criss-crossed, a web
so thick that it concealed the houses,
opposite. Gazing down, he saw three
fountains playing.
“What Is this place?” he asked.
“The Randolph Gardens.” Miss Nev
ins answered. “It’s built on what used
to be the Randolph estate. You see,
some enterprising genius bought all
the houses between the two churches,
remodeled them and threw the yards
together. Do you like it?" she asked
with eagerness.
“I think it’s most attractive.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. That’s exactly the
way I feel. Ever since I saw it yester
day, I’ve been thinking how I’d fur
nish it.”
“How would you furnish It?” Stephen
asked idly. , . _ ..
Miss Nevins hesitated. “Rather
41UUW swoswssvu. •*" v ** v
THE DAY HE BOUGHT KATH-
I.EEN’S RING HE HANDED IT
OVER FOR MISS NEVINS’ AP
PROVAL . . . SHE PICKED THE
RING UP, POISED IT AT THE
TIP OF HER OWN LEFT RING
FINGER.
: : £\ . |
% •• f*
& /mm
MRS. ANNA LANSBURGII.
(Photograph by Cllnedtnjt Studio.)
diplomatic history, and the W'hole for
eign office sat in privy council.
Thb reply from Malimood Beg Tar
zee, minister of foreign affairs of Af
ghanistan, is in point;
“Madame;
“Your letter has been received by the
foreign office of Afghanistan. You have
intimated therein with regard to refu
gees in Vienna, that owing to lack of
“I COULDN’T POSSIBLY LIVE THERE! OF COURSE, THE HOUSE ITSELF IS RATHER NICE ... I’D LIKE AWFULLY TO PLAY WITH IT.
BUT YOU PAY TOO HIGH IN CONTACTS . . ."
sparsely, I’m afraid. I don’t like things
very much. And I have a theory that
you ought to have altogether different
decorations for Summer and Winter.
If this were my house, I’d paper this
room in a plain cream. And I’d hang
no pictures. For, Just as soon as the
Spring comes, the shadows of the leaves
will cover the celling and the walls.
As the wind blows, those shadow-shapes
will change constantly.
“I’d furnish this room with as few
things as possible. I’d have chintz
covers for the furniture, with a green
note in it—long, glossy, spiky leaves.
I suppose I’d have some glass about,
because it catches and holds the light.
But mainly I think I’d let the tree
shadows own the place.”
“Oh, I say.” Stephen exclaimed, as
though with a mounting appreciation,
“that frieze of leaf-shadows changing
all the time is simply great. Now tell
me what you’d do in the Winter.”
“And then, when the Winter came,
I’d cover everything with a chintz of
a lovely geranium pink-red that I’ve
seen recently. I’d always have a log
fire In the fireplace. And then I’d have
brass and copper about, warm shining
things that the firelight would glow
in.”
Stephen laughed. “I accuse you of
Choosing the colors that would be most
becoming to you. You know you
couldn’t find anything better than that
rich green or that vivid geranium.”
Miss Nevins laughed absently.
“We could put our books at the ends
of these rooms,” Stephen suggested.
“Yes, that would be a good place for
them. Now come upstairs.”
The next floor was a pair of big
bedrooms, a front-hall bedroom and a
bathroom. Above all was a low-studded
story, four small rooms and a big hall.
The front-room windows were barred.
“Why, this would be our nursery.”
He turned his eager eyes to hers.
For the flrifc time, he saw Mis#
Nevins blush. Colorless? She wasn't
colorless! It was only that her flesh
was so snowy. It was as white as
porcelain, as smooth and fine; her
blush stained it as though an unseen
hand had swiftly smeared it with scar
let. How immense her eyes! What
blackness in her hair! For a second
she was beautiful!
** * *
P! the afternoon they showed Kathleen
the house. They, because Kathleen
had asked that Miss Nevins be so good
as to come along.
Alighting from the cab, Kathleen
swept the street with her swift gaze.
Stephen became suddenly conscious of
the drug store on the comer, of an ash
barrel in front of the next house, of a
group of children in the distance.
residence and food and continuance of
warfare now, their maintenance in
Vienna is held impossible and you re
quest that his majesty the King
(Ameer) of Afghanistan might agree to
allow a certain number of them to shift
in Afghanistan; and that all such in
dividuals hold the avocations of art,
manufacture and Industry, so that they
would not be a burden on hie kingdom.
"This Isn’t the best aspect,” he said
apologetically. "We need scarcely see
this at all. It'S the garden that’s the
wonder.” t
He took the key from Miss Nevins
and unlocked the door, ushered the two
women in.
“Oh, what a duck of a place!” Kath
leen commented. “How quaint! What
a dear, dear little house!”
Unconsciously he followed the trail
that Mias Nevins had biased; he took
her into the basement first.
"Oh,” Kathleen cooed. "Such a
charming, sunny little dining room.
Let me see, one could have a dinner
party of —certainly not more than
eight. Ah. that’s the garden! How
nice! How very, very nice! I suppose
all these families have children and
they all play in the garden together.
Perhaps the trees would smother the
noise somewhat.”
They went upstairs to the drawing
room floor. # "Nice,” Kathleen kept
commenting "Very nice, indeed. One
could get quite charming effects with
this place—little effects, of course. The
garden is really quite lovely from
above. In the Summer you’d feel that
vou were living in the trees. But, of
course, I wouldn’t be here in the Sum
mer.”
“I would.” Stephen announced.
"Alas, poor darling!’’ Kathleen
laughed, "you would be!”
"I’ve had a delightful afternoon.”
Kathleen said latet, when they were
leaving the house. "Charming! And
how lovely you’ve been about all this!
I can’t be too grateful. But, of course,
the place is quite out of the question!”
"Out of the question 1” Stephen re
peated mechanically.
"I couldn’t possibly live there!
Fancy living on a street with a drug
store in the foreground and a row of
ash cans I Os course, the house itself
is rather nice. It lends itself. I’d like
awfully to play with It. But you pay
too high in contacts. And I’d hate to
see people I didn’t know and wouldn’t
want to know, walking in that garden.”
They said good-bye to Miss Nevins
and turned in the direction of Kath
leen’s home.
Stephen was conscious of a faint
chill.
“We’ll have to And a place uptown.”
“I’m afraid.” Btephen actually fal
tered, “I’m afraid I couldn’t afford a
house uptown for a while.”
“Os course, you couldn’t. We’ll get
an apartment that will be practically as
good as a house,” Kathleen went on.
“That secretary of yours Is rather a
handsome creature, Isn’t she?”
"Do you think so?”
"Oh, by the way, did you notice a
slight resemblance between us? I had
"We came to understand that the
Kvernment of Afghanistan had already
en allowing the essentials of friend
ship and regard to the high govern
ment of Austria, so that she has dur
ing the general war offered a necessary
and warm reception to all.
"Taking this view, Afghanistan for
the present, owing to the laws of civili
sation and cause of humanity, can
manage to receive 50 such like persons,
that may belong to such a class of pro
fession and business as can be of avail
and benefit to such newly flourished
dominions which are adopting the high
ways of progress.
"His majesty the King of Afghanis
tan always looks with a sympathetic
eye and equality to the present atti
tude of Austria, but even toward the
universe of humanity, moresoever re
newing my respectabilities, I am,
“Yours obediently.
MAHMOOD TARZEE."
In another letter his majesty wrote
that "Afghanistan takes no pains about
the colonists’ religion. They can be of
any religion whatsoever, but they must
be men of arts. In this way they can
conveniently subsist in Afghanistan.”
In her work with refugees and war
sufferers, Mrs. Lansburgh received aid
from a large number of persons repre
senting governments engaged in reha
bilitation. Unusual assistance was re
ceived from Signor Antonio Mosconi,
senator of the King, in Trieste, Italy:
Comdr. Adolfo Perilli, inspector general
of the Italian minister of the interior:
Giuli Ucelli, officer of the Lloyd
Triestino Steamship Lines; Comdr.
Pietro de Filippis, Director Unken of
the Cosulich Steamship Lines, Frank
furter Hos rat. steamship agent; Sir C.
K. Butler and Sir Ralph Butler, Eng
lishmen, and Frank Brosh. I
“Our family," Mrs. Lansburgh said, |
"is organized for service. My father is
the scholar, my mother is minister of
the interior, my sister U secretary of
the treasury, and 1 am minister of
sociology.”
** * *
S HB ta ft direct descendant of one of I
the 12 tribes that sprang from
Abraham. On her mother's side is the
great family of Wahl. In the sixteenth
century one of her ancestors was acting
King of Poland for a short time follow
ing the death of the hereditary mon
arch. Mrs. Lanrburgh’s great-grand
father was famed as a medico and was
called by the Sultan of Turkey to be
come Pasha of Palestine.
Mrs. Lansburgh herself was born in
the Holy Land on soil given her family
by the Sultan. The property still is in
their hands.
The Lorbeerbaum family la unique
la another respect. Property in Austria,
a feeling that I was looking at a char
coal drawing of myself."
"Yes, I remember I did notice a re
semblance, at first.”
But somehow Kathleen’s simile seem
ed wrong. He would rather have said
that Miss Nevins was a rendition in
robust oils of Kathleen’s water-color
tints.
"Well, I’ll just put Miss Nevins to
work looking for other places,” Stephen
decided, after a short pause. "It will,
as you say, have to be an apartment.
However, an apartment will make
things very simple for us.”
“Yes. By the way, Freddie’s place is
almost finished. He wants us to lunch
there next Sunday. Luncheon, so that
you can see everything, including the
grounds, by daylight. I told him we’d
come.”
"All right,” Stephen agreed.
• * • •
HE was conscious of a faint distaste
for the expedition. Somehow, Ste
phen had no desire to see Marshall’s
combination of spaciousness and opu
lence. Before he went to sleep that
night he traversed in imagination every
room of the little house. Suddenly he
found that even in Imagination he was
not alone there. "I’d rather live in that
house,” he thought, as he awoke in
the morning, “than any place I’ve ever
seen in my life.”
"Don’t bother that Miss Nevins to
look for apartments for us,” Kathleen
said, the next time they met. "I’ll start
doing it myself this very week.”
But she did not have time that week,
as it happened. There were still some
last decisions to be made in regard to
the Marshall house.
"There are some things. Freddie,"
Kathleen declared once, “that simply
must be left till you can go yourself
to Spain or send somebody there.”
"I can’t go,” Freddie declared, "but
I can send somebody. Why can’t I send
you?”
"Oh, I’d love it!” Kathleen declared
impulsively. "I’d simply love it!”
"But we’re going to be married this
June!” Stephen thrust in swiftly.
“Well, we might put the wedding off
till fall,” Kathleen declared. “Or we
might go to Spain on our honeymoon
and get Freddie’s things then.”
Somehow', the thought of Kathleen
devoting their honeymoon to picking
up bargains for Freddie Marshall failed
to allure Stephen. But he made no fur
ther comment. Their trip to see Mar
shall's house was delayed from week to
week*
In the meantime. Miss Nevins had
never mentioned the little house to
him again; he had never mentioned it
again to her. Indeed, they rarely talked
now.
Every day Stephen asked Kathleen if
she had looked for an apartment. Each
Egypt and Palestine insures a steady
income which can be used by the
head of the house solely as an en
dowment fund for classical scholarship.
Thus, the condition on which this in
come is derived is that it should not be
appropriated to any cause other than
study and research in metaphysical
thought. Since the age of three, her
father has performed no work other
than that which furthers the ideal pur
suit of knowledge. He has studied the
Talmud and writings of the prophets
at length and has delved Into all man
ner of philosophies.
So when Miss Lorbeerbaum and her
mother came to America in 1924, immi
gration inspectors were much surprised
when they asked how much money she
had and she showed a bulging purse.*
“immigrants.” said the inspectors,
"don't come to America with money.
They mean to take it away.” But with
the Austrian Samaritan it was differ
ent. She meant to bring something to
America besides her money. She was
Americanized almost to the extent that
natives are. She understood liberty
and desired it. She was in sympathy
with American customs. She knew all
about them before landing. The Amer
ican language was not much different
from the English she had learned. Be
sides. she had known many Americans
in Vienna.
Casting about on the American scene,
she saw that each State had a manner,
swagger and impress that are distinc
tive. Massachusetts, Virginia and Mis
sissippi are connotive words. There are
Texas dishes. Alabama melodies and
New York coiffures. States are noted
for certain industries, customs and
products. “How could one State learn
what the rest of the country was
doing?” Miss Lorbeerbaum asked her
self.
The best method of effecting closer
unity among States would be by having
a national exposition in the Capital.
Forthwith the plan was enthusiastically
indorsed by Washington leaders as well
as Congressmen. Interest in the plan
will probably be revived in connection
with the 200th anniversary celebration
of the birth of George Washington to
be held in Washington in 1932.
Mrs. Lansburgh has also begun or
ganizing a series of young people's
groups to be modeled after the “Jugend
groupe” of Vienna. “Their aim,” she
said, “is to awaken understanding be
tween parents and children."
Free from financial cares, she has en
listed a mighty vehemence in carrying
out her ideas. Whom she addresses, his
attention she commands. Her manner
breathes opulent culture. Her sen
tences are thoughtful and sufficiently
eloquent to arouse Interest at American
gatherings she addresses.
Because she gives so much and takes
so little she is unusual. One wonders
how she found time to complete a uni
versity course and simultaneously en
gage in half a dozen other major activi- j
ties. The study of Latin and Arabic is
a lifetime pursuit for many, but she was
grounded in five or six additional
tongues before reaching her twenties.
Energy, strength and vivacity are her
ancestral heritage. What she does is
traditional In tne family from which
she springs.
“I’m paying my debt," she says.
day she admitted she had not found
the time.
“If that blooming Spanish sky
scraper ever gets finished ” Stephen
found himself thinking, again and
again. However, ultimately the Sunday
came on which he and Kathleen made
the trip to see the new house.
It was beautiful, appallingly beauti
ful, and much bigger even than Stephen
had imagined it. Everywhere Kath
leen’s taste had produced its sure magic.
It was late in the afternoon when
Marshall set them down at Kathleen’s
house. Kathleen sank at once on the
couch. "Bring a chair over, Step,” she
pleaded faintly.
Stephen obeyed; seated himself be
side her. He did not speak, giving her
the rest she needed. Suddenly he was
conscious of shock. The lamps were not
lighted. There was only the twilight
to rescue Kathleen’s face from dusk.
It seemed to change, to recede. It had
become a crystal disk. And, looking
through It, he saw Miss Nevin’s face,
eyes like dark moons, mobile lips warm
ly crimson ,
"Kathleen!” Stephen exclaimed, as
one calling for help. "Kathleen, will
you look for our apartment next week?”
Kathleen said, a little languidly, "I'm
really too tired.”
"Why can’t I do the preliminary
work?” he asked, in a slightly formal
tone.
“No. No, I don’t think I’d do anything
about it yet, if I w f ere you. Step, dear.
Besides I’ve come to the conclusion that
it’s an enormous mistake for us to be
married as soon as June. I really think
we’d be wiser to put the marriage off
until you're making a little more
money.”
Stephen studied her hard. "That
might be quite a long time, Kathleen,”
he said, in a strange voice. “It might
be ” he paused again, "five years!”
“Well, I think five years would be
better, Kathleen said languidly, "than
to go into some squalid little hole. You
know. I’ve discovered one thing about
myself. I have to have space. I can’t
live all huddled up with people.”
“I see. It was Marshall’s house that
taught you that about yourself. Kath
leen. would it relieve your mind if I
suggested that we break our engage
ment? You reallv want to marry Mar* *
shall, don’t you?”
“Well, frankly, Stephen,” Kathleen
answered, in a faint voice, "I think it
would be more suitable.”
“I think so, too.” Stephen arose.
“But. Step. dear. I want you to know
—I want you to realize —if I can ex
plain ”
“I don’t want any explanation*,”
Stephen said, with a brief lRUgh.
Slowly Kathleen drew off his ring.
Late that night, after he walked for
hours, he turned Into a drug store, went
to the telephone booth, got Miss NevhVß
apartment.
“This is Stephen Stowe,” he said.
•'Oft, J’?s, Mr. Stowe!”
i “Miss Nevins, Miss Corey has Just
i broken our engagement.”
“Oh. Mr. Stowe!” The voice was
shocked, aghast. “I’m sorry!”
“Miss Nevins, is that house still
emhtv?”
“Yes, the agent called me up yester
day to ask me if I couldn’t make you
take it.”
“Will you call him up tomorrow and
tell him I’ll take it?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, indeed!” The voice
had come up to joy. “I'm so glad you're
going to have it, after all.”
“Miss Nevins. will you go out to din
ner with me tomorrow night?”
“I—l ” Then, with her simplicity,
“Yes, Mr. Stowe.”
“I want to talk things over with you.
I’m going to tell you something.” He
paused. “Perhaps you know what it is?
Do you know what it is, Lucile?”
On her part a pause, a long, long
pause. Then a faintly breathed, “Yes,
SteDhen.”
(Copyright, 1928.)
■ •
Winter Vegetables.
vegetables, built on sturdier
lines and for sturdier appetites
than Spring greenery, often fail to be
included in elegant menus and company
dinners. But housekeepers who do their
own work, and who therefore favor one
plate dinners, and who are interested
in menu economies, appreciate the sub
stantial qualities and satisfying flavors
of pumpkin, squash, eggplant, cabbage
and parsnips.
Pumpkin is. perhaps, the least used
of all the Winter vegetables, except in
pie. As a main dish for dinner on
January nights there is nothing much
more satisfying than a casserole of
pumpkin tucked under a Inver of fresh
Dork sausage, baked in the oven until
brown and crisp on top and juicy and
succulent underneath. The pungent
flavor of the mashed pumokin Is a
worthy companion to the rich spiciness
of the sausage.
There are interesting variations on
this dish. The pumpkin may be spiced
a bit with cinnamon and fluffed up
with beaten egg yolks or whites, or both.
It may be enriched by grated yellow
cheese or chopped nuts, and Just under
the layer of sausage you might like to
place very thin rings of unpared red
apples.
The same good things can be said
about similar combinations which call
for turnip instead of pumpkin. Yellow
turnip, we mean, not wnite—turnips
which have been left in the ground to
be ripened fully by first frosts. Mashed
turnioa, almost the exception among
the hardy vegetables, is ever given wel
come at fancy dinners if it ccmes hand
In hand with duck, or, better still, with
some kind of game. And no one should
venture to speak slightingly of this
liaison. But lot us recommend as better
still the scraps of left-over duck or
game, shredded finely, mixed witn the
yolks of two or three eggs and lold"d
lightly into two cups of left-over tumlp
to be baked slowly in a ca-ierole until
hot and Juicy clear through.
A mortgage for $1,000,000 has been
placed on Villanova College. Vlllanova,
to pay for a new building to take place
of one destroyed by fixe.