The Dwelling Place of Light | Page 8

more critical eye than Lise's,
gazing upon this portrayal of the Valhalla of success, might have
detected in the young men, immaculate in evening dress, a certain
effort to feel at home, to converse naturally, which their square jaws
and square shoulders belied. This was no doubt the fault of the artist's
models, who had failed to live up to the part. At any rate, the sight of
these young gods of leisure, the contemplation of the stolid butler and
plush footmen in the background never failed to make Lise's heart beat
faster.
On the marble of the bureau amidst a litter of toilet articles, and bought
by Lise for a quarter at the Bagatelle bargain counter, was an oval

photograph frame from which the silver wash had begun to rub off, and
the band of purple velvet inside the metal had whitened. The frame
always contained the current object of Lise's affections, though the
exhibits--as Janet said--were subject to change without notice. The
Adonis who now reigned had black hair cut in the prevailing Hampton
fashion, very long in front and hanging down over his eyes like a
Scottish terrier's; very long behind, too, but ending suddenly, shaved in
a careful curve at the neck and around the ears. It had almost the
appearance of a Japanese wig. The manly beauty of Mr. Max Wylie
was of the lantern-jawed order, and in his photograph he conveyed the
astonished and pained air of one who has been suddenly seized by an
invisible officer of the law from behind. This effect, one presently
perceived, was due to the high, stiff collar, the "Torture Brand," Janet
called it, when she and her sister were engaged in one of their frequent
controversies about life in general: the obvious retort to this remark,
which Lise never failed to make, was that Janet could boast of no beaux
at all.
It is only fair to add that the photograph scarcely did Mr. Wylie justice.
In real life he did not wear the collar, he was free and easy in his
manners, sure of his powers of conquest. As Lise observed, he had
made a home-run with her at Slattery's Riverside Park. "Sadie
Hartmann was sure sore when I tangoed off with him," she would
observe reminiscently....
It was Lise's habit to slight her morning toilet, to linger until the last
minute in bed, which she left in reluctant haste to stand before the
bureau frantically combing out kinks of the brown hair falling over her
shoulders before jamming it down across her forehead in the latest
mode. Thus occupied, she revealed a certain petulant beauty. Like the
majority of shop-girls, she was small, but her figure was good, her skin
white; her discontented mouth gave her the touch of piquancy apt to
play havoc with the work of the world. In winter breakfast was eaten by
the light of a rococo metal lamp set in the centre of the table. This was
to save gas. There was usually a rump steak and potatoes, bread and
"creamery" butterine, and the inevitable New England doughnuts. At
six thirty the whistles screeched again,--a warning note, the signal for

Edward's departure; and presently, after a brief respite, the heavy bells
once more began their clamour, not to die down until ten minutes of
seven, when the last of the stragglers had hurried through the mill
gates.
The Bumpus flat included the second floor of a small wooden house
whose owner had once been evilly inspired to paint it a livid
clay-yellow--as though insisting that ugliness were an essential
attribute of domesticity. A bay ran up the two stories, and at the left
were two narrow doorways, one for each flat. On the right the house
was separated from its neighbour by a narrow interval, giving but a
precarious light to the two middle rooms, the diningroom and kitchen.
The very unattractiveness of such a home, however, had certain
compensations for Janet, after the effort of early rising had been
surmounted, felt a real relief in leaving it; a relief, too, in leaving
Fillmore Street, every feature of which was indelibly fixed in her mind,
opposite was the blind brick face of a warehouse, and next to that the
converted dwelling house that held the shop of A. Bauer, with the
familiar replica of a green ten-cent trading stamp painted above it and
the somewhat ironical announcement--when boar frost whitened the
pavement--that ice-cold soda was to be had within, as well as cigars
and tobacco, fruit and candy. Then came a tenement, under which two
enterprising Greeks by the name of Pappas--spelled Papas lower
down-- conducted a business called "The Gentleman," a tailoring,
pressing, and dyeing establishment. Janet could see the brilliantined
black heads of the two proprietors bending over their boards,