Free Ladies In The Parlor by Jim Tully Page B

twenties.
    They rose to greet Alice.
    “Mary Ellen,” she said to the first girl, “this is Leora Blair.”
    Mary Ellen stepped forward and bowed in a polite boarding-school manner. She had a florid face, bright, wavy red hair, and large brown eyes. She looked as clean as a new cake of soap.
    Leora liked Mary Ellen at once. She extended a hand to her. Mary Ellen held it for a moment and said, “Welcome, Leora.”
    The second girl stepped forward.
    “Leora,” said Alice, “this is June Le Fear.”
    June had straight, jet black hair and light blue eyes, a fine sharp nose, and a very small mouth. Her thick pper lip curved slightly. Her teeth were small and even, and her eyes seemed to be getting ready to cry. Her breasts were firm and hard, and she had the manner and movement of a well-brought-up boy.
    She looked Leora up and down after the greeting and said to Alice, “She’s nice.”
    The third girl had hair the color of corn silk, and languorous eyes of a greenish cast. Her complexion, very pale, glowed with a delicate pink make-up. Her hands were slender and beautiful. The color, otherwise lacking in her complexion, seemed to have rushed to them. There was about her an air of complete lassitude, as though the touch of men’s hands had been too heavy for one so young and frail.
    “Leora, this is Doris Mahone,” said Alice.
    The girls nodded to each other. Before the fourth girl was introduced, Doris had half reclined on a davenport, from where she gazed at Leora.
    The fourth girl had a dimple in the center of her chin, and a copper complexion. She wore her hair in two braids, which hung like immense twisted ropes. Her features were those of an idealized Indian girl’s. Her lithe body twisted as she walked. “This is Selma,” said Alice, as she took her to the davenport near Doris.
    Leora was no sooner seated than June was beside her.
    “Now listen, girls,” and Alice smiled at them, “Mother wants us to give Leora a new name. She says that Blair is too harsh, that no gentleman would like a girl named Blair.”
    “I think it’s nice,” June repeated the name, “Leora Blair.”
    “Sounds like a firecracker,” put in Mary Ellen.
    “Of course it’s not as beautiful as Mary Ellen—that’s like a Sunday school teacher’s.” June looked at Doris, who nodded.
    “Why not call her Nellie—let’s see—Nellie Narine,” suggested Selma.
    “I wouldn’t have the name Nellie— I knew a girl called that one time and she died of the old ral,” said June.
    “Well, what did the name have to do with it?” asked Selma.
    “Maybe nothing,” returned June, “but just the same I wouldn’t want to take a chance.”
    “Then make it Josephine,” suggested Doris, adding, “Josephine Le Grand.”
    “No,” Selma shook her head quickly, “that name doesn’t fit her character at all.”
    All the girls laughed. The name was dismissed.
    “Why not Doreen Farway?” Alice laughed outright, while Leora smiled.
    “That’s not so bad,” said June, “that’s a nice name—I wish I had it.”
    Mary Ellen did not agree. “It sounds like the wronged girl in a novel,” she said.
    “Well, just the same, I like it,” said June.
    “You would, June—you’re so romantic,” Mary Ellen smiled.
    “Why not let’s call her Leora,” suggested Alice, “and get her a last name. Mother liked ‘Leora.’”
    “Then why not Leora Le Grand,” put in Doris.
    “Not with Le Grand and Le Fear in the same house. The men will know they’re not real,” said June.
    “Well, what do they care what we call ourselves so. long as we give them what they want,” said Doris.
    “Well, just the same, they do,” returned June.
    “Make it Leora Lavean,” said Mary Ellen.
    “Too Jewish—it would hurt her chances with some Ku Klux Klanner or something.” Selma threw a braid of hair across her shoulder.
    “Then give her an Irish name,” suggested Selma, “the Irish would never forgive us.”
    “Mother might like