Disabled veterans -- United States -- Fiction; Social change -- Fiction
"Helen, don't you say a word against Mel Iden," burst out Margaret,
hotly. "She was my dearest friend. She was lovely. Her ruin was a
horrible shock. But it wasn't because she was bad.... Mel had some
fanatical notion about soldiers giving all--going away to be
slaughtered. She said to me, 'A woman's body is so little to give,'"
"Yes, I know Mel was cracked," replied Helen. "But she needn't have
been a damn fool. She didn't need to have had that baby!"
"Helen, your idea of sin is to be found out," said Elinor, with
satire.
Again Floss Dickerson dropped her trenchant personality into the
breach.
"Aw, come off!" she ejaculated. "Let somebody roast the men once, will
you? I'm the little Jane that _knows_, believe me. All this talk about
the girls going to hell makes me sick. We may be going--and going in
limousines--but it's the men who're stepping on the gas."
"Floss, I love to hear you elocute," drawled Helen. "Go to it! For
God's sake, roast the men."
"You always have to horn in," retorted Floss. "Let me get this off my
chest, will you?... We girls are getting talked about. There's no use
denying it. Any but a blind girl could see it. And it's because we do
what the men want. Every girl wants to go out--to be attractive--to
have fellows. But the price is getting high. They say in Middleville
that I'm rushed more than any other girl. Well, if I am I know what it
costs.... If I didn't 'pet'--if I didn't mush, if I didn't park my
corsets at dances--if I didn't drink and smoke, and wiggle like a
jelly-fish, I'd be a dead one--an egg, and don't you overlook that. If
any one says I _want_ to do these things he's a fool. But I do love to
have good times, and little by little I've been drawn on and on....
I've had my troubles staving off these fellows. Most of them get half
drunk. Some of the girls do, too. I never went that far. I always kept
my head. I never went the limit. But you can bet your sweet life it
wasn't their fault I didn't fall for them.... I'll say I've had to
walk home from more than one auto ride. There's something in the gag,
'I know she's a good girl because I met her walking home from an auto
ride.' That's one thing I intend to cut out this summer--the auto
rides. Nothing doing for little Flossie!"
"Oh, can't we talk of something else!" complained Margaret, wearily,
with her hands pressing against her temples.
CHAPTER VI
Mrs. Maynard slowly went upstairs and along the hall to her daughter's
room. Margaret sat listlessly by a window. The girls had gone.
"You were going for a long walk," said Mrs. Maynard.
"I'm tired," replied Margaret. There was a shadow in her eyes.
The mother had never understood her daughter. And of late a subtle
change in Margaret had made her more of a puzzle.
"Margaret, I want to talk seriously with you," she began.
"Well?"
"Didn't I tell you I wanted you to break off your--your friendship
with Holt Dalrymple?"
"Yes," replied Margaret, with a flush. "I did not--want to."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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