The House of Torchy | Page 3

Sewell Ford
sore.
"Nice place, this," says I to Vee, as we trails in to dinner that evenin'. "Almost as sociable as the Grand Central station."
Vee tries to explain that it's always like this in these exclusive little all-the-year-round joints where about the same crowd of people come every season.
"Then you have to be born in the house to be a reg'lar person, I suppose?" says I.
Well, it's about then I notices this classy young couple who are makin' their way across the dinin'-room, bein' hailed right and left. And next thing I know, the young lady gets her eye on Vee, stops to take another look, then rushes over and gives her the fond clinch from behind.
"Why you dear old Verona!" says she.
"Judith!" gasps Vee, kind of smothery.
"Whatever are you doing up----" And then Judith gets wise to me sittin' opposite. "Oh!" says she.
Vee blushes and exhibits her left hand.
"It only happened the other night," says she. "This is Mr. Ballard, Judith. And you?"
"Oh, ages ago--last spring," says Judith. "Bert, come here."
It's a case of old boardin'-school friends who'd lost track of each other. Quite a stunner, young Mrs. Nixon is, too, and Bert is a good match for her. The two girls hold quite a reunion, with us men standin' around lookin' foolish.
"We're living in Springfield, you know," goes on Judith, "where Bert is helping to build another munition plant. Just ran up to spend the week-end with Auntie. You've met her, of course?"
"We--we haven't met anyone," says Vee.
"Why, how funny!" exclaims Mrs. Nixon. "Please come over right now."
"My dear," says Auntie, pattin' Vee chummy on the hand, "we have all been wondering who you two young people were. I knew you must be nice, but--er---- Come, won't you join us at this table? We'll make just a splendid little family party. Now do!"
Oh, yes, we did. And after dinner I'll be hanged if we ain't introduced to almost everybody in the hotel. It's a reg'lar reception, with folks standin' in line to shake hands with us. The old boy with the eye awnin's turns out to be an ex-Secretary of the Treasury; an antique with a patent ear-'phone has been justice of some State Supreme Court; and so on. Oh, lots of class to 'em. But after I'd been vouched for by someone they knew they all gives me the hearty grip, offers me cigars, and hopes I'm enjoyin' my stay.
"And so you are a niece of dear Mrs. Hemmingway?" says old Parrot-Face, when her turn comes. "Think of that! And this is your husband!" And then she says how nice it is that some other young people will be up in the mornin'.
That evenin' Judith gets busy plannin' things to do next day.
"You haven't tried the toboggan chute?" says she. "Why, how absurd!"
Yep, it was a big day, Saturday was. Half a dozen more young folks drifted in, includin' a couple of Harvard men that Vee knew, a girl she'd met abroad, and another she'd seen at a house-party. They was all live wires, too, ready for any sort of fun. And we had all kinds. Maybe we didn't keep that toboggan slide warm. Say, it's some sport, ain't it?
Anyway, our honeymoon was turnin' out a great success. The Nixons concluded to stay over a few days, and three or four of the others found they could too, so we just went on whooping things up.
Next I knew we'd been there a week, and was due to make a jump to Washington for a few days of sight-seein'.
"I'm afraid that will not be half as nice as this has been," says Vee.
"It couldn't," says I. "It's the reg'lar thing to do, though."
"I hate doing the regular thing," says Vee. "Besides, I'm dying to see our little studio apartment and get settled in it. Why not--well, just go home?"
"Vee," says I, "you got more good sense than I have red hair. Let's!"
CHAPTER II
VEE WITH VARIATIONS
"But--but look here, Vee," says I, after I'd got my breath back, "you can't do a thing like that, you know."
"But I have, Torchy," says she; "and, what is more, I mean to keep on doing it."
She don't say it messy, understand--just states it quiet and pleasant.
And there we are, hardly at the end of our first month, with the rocks loomin' ahead.
Say, where did I collect all this bunk about gettin' married, anyway? I had an idea that after the honeymoon was over, you just settled down and lived happy, or otherwise, ever after. But, believe me, there's nothing to it. It ain't all over, not by a long shot. As a matter of fact, you've just begun to live, and you got to learn how.
Here I am, discoverin' a new Vee every day or so, and almost dizzy tryin' to get acquainted with all
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