T H E S TA N D A R D O F L I V I N G the first thing. Know what l'd d0? l'd get a string ofpearls. Real pearls." Annabel's eyes turned tO 応Ⅱ OW Midge's. "Yes," she said, slowly. "I think that's a kind ofa good idea. And it would make sense, t00. Because you can wear pearls with anything. " Together they went over t0 the shOp window and st00d pressed against it. lt contained but one object—a double row Of great, even pearls clasped by a deep emerald around a little pink velvet throat. "What do you suppose they cost?" Annabel said. "Gee, I don't ow , " Midge said. "Plenty, I guess. " "Like a thousand dollars? ” Annabel said. "Oh, I guess like more," Midge said. 、。 On account of the emerald. ' "Well, like ten thousand dollars? ” Annabel said. "Gee, I wouldn't even know," Midge said. The devil nudged Annabel in the ribs. "Dare you to go 1n and price them," she said. "Like fun!" Midge said. "Dare you," Annabel said. "Why, a store like this wouldn't even be open this after- noon," Midge said. "Yes, it is so, t00,"Annabel said."Peoplejust came out. And there's a doorman on. Dare you. "Well," Midge said. "But you've got to come t00. ' They tendered thanks icily, t0 the doorman for ushering them int0 the shop. lt was C001 and quiet, a broad, gracious room with paneled walls and so 代 carpet. But the girls wore ex- pressions ofbitter disdain, as ifthey st00d ⅲ a sty. A slim, immaculate clerk came to them and bowed. His neat face showed no astonishment at their appearance. 、。 Good afternoon," he said. He implied that he would never forget it ifthey would grant him the favor ofaccepting his so ル spoken greeting. "Good afternoon," Annabel and Midge said together, and ⅲ like freezing accents. 、 'ls there somethmg—?" the clerk said.

K AT H E R I N E M A N S F I E L D Soon after that people began commg ⅲ streams. The band struck 叩 ; the hired waiters ran om the house to the marquee. Wherever you looked there were couples strolling, bending to the flowers, greetmg, moving on over the lawn. They were like bright birds that had alighted ⅲ the Sheridans' garden for this one afternoon, on their way to where? Ah what happiness it is to be with people who all are happy, to press hands, press cheeks, smile into eyes. "Darling Laura, how well you look!" 'What a becoming hat, child!" "Laura, you 100k quite Spanish. l've never seen you look so striking. And Laura, glowing, answered softly, "Have you had tea? Won't you have an ice? The passion-fruit ices really are rather special. " She ran to her father and begged him. "Daddy darling, can't the band have something to drink?" And the perfect afternoon slowly ripened, slowly faded, slowly its petals closed. "Never a more delightful garden party .. " "The greatest success... 'Quite the most. Laura helped her mother with good-byes. They stood side by side ⅲ the porch till it was all over. "AII over, all over, thank heaven," said Mrs. Sheridan. "Round 叩 the others, Laura. Let's go and have some fresh cof- e. l'm exhausted. Yes, it's been very successful. But oh, these parties, these parties! Why will you children insist on grving parties!" And they all 0f them sat down ⅲ the deserted mar- quee. "Have a sandwich, daddy dear.. I wrote the flag. ' "Thanks. ” Mr. Sheridan took a bite and the sandwich was gone. He t00k another. 当 suppose you didn't hear 0f a beastly accident that happened to-day?" he said. "My dear," said Mrs. Sheridan, holding 叩 her hand, "we did. lt nearly ruined the party. Laura insisted we should put it 0 圧 " "Oh, mother!" Laura didn't want to be teased about it. "lt was a horrible affair all the same,' ” said Mr. Sheridan. "The chap was married t00. Lived just below in the lane, and leaves a wife and halfa dozen kiddies, so they say.

28 D 0 R 0 T H Y PA R K E R gether every Ⅱ 00n , together they set out for home at the end Of the day's WO ⅸ . Many of their evenings and most of their Sun- days were passed ⅲ each other's company. Often they were jOined by tWO young men, but there was no steadiness tO any such quartet; the two young men would give place, unlamented, t0 two other young men, and lament would have been inappro- priate, really, since the newcomers were scarcely distinguish- able 仕 om their predecessors. lnvariably the girls spent the fine idle hours of their hot-weather Saturday afternoons together. Constant use had not worn ragged the fabric oftheir friendship. They looked alike, though the resemblance did not lie ⅲ their features. lt was in the shape of their bodies, their move- ments, their style, and their adornments. Annabel and Midge did, and completely, all that young offce workers are besought not to do. They painted their lips and their nails, they darkened their lashes and lightened their hair, and scent seemed to shim- mer om them. They wore thin, bnght dresses, tight over their breasts and high on their legs, and tilted slippers, fancifully strapped. They 100ked conspicuous and che 叩 and charming. NOW, as they walked across to Fifth Avenue with their skirts swirled by the hot wind, they received audible admiration. Young men grouped lethargically about newsstands awarded them murmurs, exclamations, even—the ultimate tribute— whistles. Annabel and Midge passed without the condescen- sion ofhurrying their pace; they held their heads higher and set their feet with exquisite-precislon, as if they stepped over the necks ofpeasants. Always the girls went t0 walk on Fifth Avenue on their free afternoons, for it was the ideal ground for their favorite game. The game could be played anywhere, and indeed, was, but the great shop windows stimulated the two players t0 their best form. Annabel had invented the game; or rather she had evolved it 丘 om an 01d one. Basically, it was no more than the ancient sport ofwhat-would-you-do-if-you-had-a-million-dollars? But Annabel had drawn a new set 0f rules for it, had narrowed it, pointed it, made it stricter. Like all games, it was the more ab- sorbing for being more diffcult.

T H E 0 T H E R T W 0 201 The dogs, I whispered t0 my cousin Mourad. I thought they would bark. They would at somebody else, he said. I have a way WI 市 dogs ・ My cousin Mourad put h1S arms around the horse, pressed his nose intO the horse's nose, patted it, and then we went away. That afternoon J0hn B 0 came t0 0 町 house ⅲ his surrey and showed my mother the horse that had been stolen and re- turned. I do not know what to think, he said. The horse is stronger than ever. Better-tempered, t00. I thank G0d. My uncle Khosrove, wh0 was ⅲ the p 10r , became lrritated and shouted, Quiet, man, quiet. Your horse has been returned. Pay no attention tO it. THE OTH 旧良 TWO* BY EDITH WHARTON AYTHORN, ON the drawing-room hearth, walted for his wife tO come down tO dinner. lt was their first mght under his own r00 and he was sur- prised at his thrill ofboyish agitation. He was not so 014 t0 sure—his glass gave him little more than the five-and-thirty years t0 which his wife confessed—but he had fancied himself already in the temperate zone; yet here he was listemng for her step with a tender sense ofall it symbolized, with some 01d 恤ⅱ of verse about the garlanded nuptial door-posts floating through his enjoyment 0f the pleasant room and the good din- nerjust beyond it. They had been hastily recalled 丘 om their honeymoon by the illness of LiIy Haskett, the child ofMrs. Waythorn9s t mar- 斤 om The Descent 材

158 M A X B E E R B 0 日 M ofsilence, the charm ofliberty—these things were not, after all, 応て it. My heart thanked Laider for that; and throughout the week I loyally seconded him ⅲ the system he had laid down for us. AII was as it had been 1 t year. We did not smile to each other, we merely bowed, when we entered or 厄れ the dining- room or smokmg - r001 れ , and when we met on the 、 Midespread sands or ⅲ that shop wh1Ch had a small and faded, but circulat- ing, library. Once or twice ⅲ the course Of the week it did occur to me that perhaps Laider had told the simple truth at our first inter- view and an ingenious lie at our second. I frowned at this pos- sibility. The idea ofany one wishmg to be qult ofme was most distasteful. However, I was to find reassurance. On the last evening 0f my stay, I suggested, ln the small smokmg-room, that he and I should, as sticklers for precedent, converse. We did so, very pleasantly. And after a while I happened to say that I had seen this afternoon a great number of sea-gulls flying close tO the shore. "Sea-gulls?" said Laider, turning ⅲ his chair. "Yes. And I don't think I had ever realised how extraordinar- ily beautiful they are when their wmgs catch the light. " "BeautifuI?" Laider threw a quick glance at me and away 仕 om me. "You think them beautiful? ” "Surely. " "Well, perhaps they are, yes; I suppose they e. But—I don't like seeing them. They always remind me ofsomething— rather an awful thing—that once happened t0 me. lt was a very awful thing indeed.

6 K AT H E R I N E M A N S F I E L D a sweeper tO take these marks 0ffthe carpet and—one moment, Hans—" Jose loved giving orders t0 the servants, and they loved obeying her. She always made them feel they were taking part ln some drama. "Tell mother and Miss Laura t0 come here at once. "Very g004 Miss Jose. ' She turned t0 Meg. "I want tO hear what the piano sounds like, just in case l'm asked t0 smg this afternoon. Let's try over 'This Life is Weary. ' PO 襯 / Ta-ta-ta 花 e - ね ! The piano burst out so passionately that Jose's face changed. She clasped her hands. She looked mournfully and enigmatically at her mother and Laura as they came 111. 励なな Wee-ary, / 花ー 0 & g ん / Love 砒 Chan-ges, 〃 s 石・な Wee , / 花 0 ′ー g ん / ん e Chan-ges, / れイ例 .. - , G00 イわァ e! But at the word f'Good-bye," and although the piano sounded more desperate than ever, her face broke int0 a brilliant, dread- fully unsympathetic smile. "Aren't I in good voice, mummy?" she beamed. んなカな Wee 〃と comes ね Die. / D 襯ー Wa - れ加 g. But now Sadie interrupted them."What is it, Sadie?" "lfyou please, m'm, cook says have you got the flags for the sandwiches? ” "The flags for the sandwiches, Sadie?" echoed Mrs. Sheridan dreamily. And the children knew by her face that she hadn't got them. "Let me see. " And she said t0 Sadie firmly,"Tell cook l'll let her have them ⅲ ten minutes. ”

B R 0 0 K S M I T H 53 nightingales, and the odour 0f invisible hay, and stars piercmg the fading s . The man whose beer I had stolen lowered me down gently to sleep 0 代 its effects, and, as he did so, I saw that he was my brother. BROOKSMITH* BY HENRY JAMES E ARE scattered now, the friends ofthe late Mr. Oliver 0 örd ; but whenever we chance to meet I think we are conscious Ofa certain esoter1C respect for each Other. "Yes, you t00 have been in Arcadia," we seem not t00 grumpily tO allow. When I pass the house ⅲ Mansfield Street I remember that Arcadia was there. I don't know who has it now, and don't want to know; it's enough to be so sure that if I should ring the bell there would be no such luck for me as that Brooksmith should open the door. Mr. 0 仕 0r4 the most agreeable, the most attach- ing 0f bachelors, was a retired diplomatist, living on his pen- sion and on somethmg ofhis own over and above; a good deal confined, by his rnfirmities, to his fireside and delighted to be found there any afternoon ⅲ the year, 仕 om five o'clock on, by such visitors as Brooksmith allowed t0 come up. Brooksmith was his butler and his most intimate friend, t0 whom we all St004 or I should say sat, ⅲ the same relation ⅲ which the sub- ject Of the sovereign finds himself tO the prime minister. By having been for years, ⅲ foreign lands, the most delightful Englishman any one had ever known, Mr. 0 仕 Ord had ⅲ my opinion rendered signal service tO his country. But I suPPOSe he had been t00 much liked—liked even by those wh0 didn't like ″ーー SO that as people Ofthat SO never get titles or dotations for om The ん〃 e Ma 催

46 V. S . P R I T C H E T T faith. I have not seen him since, and today I heard that he was dead. He was fifty-seven. His mother, a ve 01d lady with whom he had lived all his ⅱ危 , went into his bedroom when he was getting ready for church and 応皿 d him lying on the floor in his shirt-sleeves. A stiff collar with the tie half inserted was m one hand. Five minutes before, she told the doctor, she had been speakmg t0 him. The doctor who looked at the heavy body lying on the sin- gle bed saw a middle-aged man, wide rather than stout and with an extraordinary box-like thick-jawed face. He had got fat, my uncle told me, ⅲ later years. The heavy liver-coloured cheeks were like the chaps of a hound. Heart disease, it was plain, was the cause 0f the death 0f Mr. Timberlake. ln death the face was lax, even coarse and degenerate. lt was a miracle, the doctor said, that he had lived so long. Any time dunng the last twenty years the smallest shock might have killed him. I thought 0f our afternoon on the river. I thought 0f him hanging om the tree. I thought ofhim, indifferent and golden in the meadow. I understood why he had made for himself a protective, sedentary blandness, an automatic smile a collec- tion ofphrases. He kept them on like the coat after his duckmg. And I understood why—though I had feared it all the time we . were on the river—l understood why he did not talk t0 me about the origin Of evil. He was honest. The ape was with us. The ape that merely followed me was already inside Mr. Timberlake eating out his heart.

T H E S TA N D A R D 0 F し I V I N G 27 None 0f it was important now. The wind blew it out Of his head. StilI he could always go rnt0 town Saturday night. lt was a good thing tO have ⅲ reserve. THE STANDARD OF LIVING* BY DOROTHY PARKER NNABEL AND Midge came out of the tea room with the arrogant slow gait of the leisured, for their Saturday afternoon stretched ahead of them. They had lunched, as was their wont, on sugar, starches, oils, and butfer-fats. Usually they ate sandwiches 0f spongy new white bread greased with butter and mayonnaise; they ate thick wedges 0fcake lying wet beneath ice cream and whipped cream and melted chocolate gritty with nuts. As alternates, they ate patties, sweating beads of ⅲ危 nor 0 ⅱ , containing bits of bland meat bogged in pale, stiffening sauce; they ate pastnes, limber under rigid icing, filled with an indeterminate yellow sweet stuff, not still S01i4 not yet liquid, like salve that has been le 代ⅲ the sun. They chose no 0ther sort 0f 応 04 nor did they consider it. And their skin was like the petals 0f W00d anemones, and their bellies were as flat and their flanks as lean as those 0f young lndian braves. Annabel and Midge had been best friends almost from the day that Midge had found a job as stenographer with the firm that employed Annabel. By now, Annabel, 20 years longer ⅲ the stenographic department, had worked up t0 the wages 0f eighteen dollars and 升代 y cents a week; Midge was still at six- teen dollars. Each girllived at home with her family and paid halfher salary tO its support. The girls sat side by side at their desks, they lunched t0- 仕 om The New ′ド and The 物ド他わ Dorothy ルド r

T H E G 10 C 0 N D A S M I L E 297 woke up, stiff and C01 ↓ t0 find himself drained dry, as it were, 0f every emotion. He had become nothing but a tired and suf- fering carcass. At six o'clock he undressed and went t0 bed for a couple ofhour's sleep. ln the course Ofthe same afternoon the coroner'sjury brought ⅲ a verdict 0f"Willful Murder," and Mr. Hutton was committed for trial. Miss Spence was not at all well. She had found her public 叩 - pearances in the witness box very trying, and when it was all over she had something that was very nearly a breakdown. She slept badly, and suffered 仕 om nervous indigestion. Dr. Libbard used to call every other day. She talked to him a great deal, mostly about the Hutton case. Her moral- indignation was al- ways on the b0il. Wasn't it appalling to think that one had had a murderer ⅲ one's house? Wasn't it extraordinary that one could have been for so long mistaken about the man's charac- ter? (But she had had an inkling 仕 om the first. ) And then the girl he had gone 0 仕 with—so 10W class, SO little better than a prostitute. The news that the second Mrs. Hutton was expecting a baby, the posthumous child of a condemned and executed cnminal, revolte d her; the thing was shocking, an Ob scenity. Dr. Libbard answered her gently and vaguely, and prescribed bromide. One morning he interrupted her in the midst Of her custom- ary tirade. "By the way," he said in his SO 代 , melancholy voice, 、、 I suPPOSe it was really you wh0 poisoned Mrs. Hutton. " Miss Spence stared at him for two or three seconds with enormous eyes, and then quietly said, 、 'Yes. " After that she started tO cry. 。、 ln the coffee, I suppose. " She seemed to nod assent. Dr. Libbard took out his fountain pen, and in his neat, meticulous calligraphy wrote out a pre- scnption for a sleeping draught.