By Ring Lardner

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do with you, Mr. Bartlett, ” said the great man. “I’m going to take you right out to my home and have you meet the wife and family; stay to dinner and all night. I mean that’ll give you a chance to see us just as we are. I mean you can get more that way than if you sat here a whole week, asking me questions.” “But I don’t want to put you to a lot of trouble, ” said Bartlett. “Trouble! ” The great man laughed. “There‘s no trouble about it. I’ve got a big house with lots of servants. But anyway I’m always glad to do anything I can for a writing man, especially a man that works for Ralph Doane. I mean it’ll be pleasure to have you. But let’s go! ”

The great man - Lou Gregg, president of Modern Pictures, Inc. - escorted his visitor from the magnificent office by a private door and down a private stairway to the avenue, where the glittering car with its glittering chauffeur waited.

“My wife, ” said Gregg as they glided northward, “hates to be away from the house and the kiddies any longer than she can help. Celia’s a great home girl. You’d never know she was the same girl now as the girl I married seven years ago. I mean she‘s not the same. I mean her marriage and being a mother has developed her. It’s remarkable how marriage changes them. I mean nobody would ever think Celia Sayles would turn out to be a sit-by-the-fire. I mean she still likes a good time, but her home and kiddies come first.” “I see what you mean, ” said Bartlett.

An hour’s drive brought them to Ardsley-on-Hudson and the great man’s home. “A wonderful place! ” Bartlett exclaimed. “It ought to be! ” said Gregg. ”I mean these things cost money. But no amount of money is too much to spend on home. I mean every nickel I’ve spent here is like so much insurance; it insures me of a happy wife and family.”

”Sweetheart! ” he called. From above came the reply in contralto: ”Hello, sweetheart! ” “Come down, sweetheart. I’ve brought you a visitor.” “All right, sweetheart, in just a minute.”

Bartlett rose to greet the striking brunette. With never a glance at him, she minced across the room to her husband and took a half interest in a convincing kiss. “Well, sweetheart, ” she said when it was at last over.“This is Mr. Bartlett, sweetheart, ” said her husband. ”Mr. Bartlett, meet Mrs. Gregg.” Bartlett shook his hostess’s proffered two fingers. “I’m so pleased! ” said Celia in a voice reminiscent of Miss Claire’s imitation of Miss Barrymore. “Mr. Bartlett, ” Gregg went on, “is with Mankind, Ralph Doane’s magazine. He is going to write me up; I mean us.” “No, you mean you, ” said Celia. “I’m sure the public is not interested in great men’s wives.” “I’m sure you are mistaken, Mrs. Gregg, ” said Bartlett politely. “In this case at least. You are worth writing up aside from being a great man’s wife.” “I’m afraid you are a flatterer, Mr. Bartlett, ” she returned. “I have been out of the limelight so long that I doubt if anybody remembers me. I’m no longer an artist; merely a happy wife and mother.” “And I claim, sweetheart, ” said Gregg, “that it takes an artist to be that.” “Oh, no, sweetheart! ” said Celia. “Not when they have you for a husband! ” The exchange of hosannahs was interrupted by the arrival of Forbes with the tray. “Will you take yours straight or in a high-ball? ” Gregg inquired of his guest. “Personally I like good whiskey straight. I mean mixing it with water spoils the flavor. I mean whiskey like this, it seems like a crime to mix it with water.” “I’ll have mine straight, ” said Bartlett, who would have preferred a high-ball. While the drinks were being prepared, he observed his hostess more closely and thought how much more charming she would be if she had used finesse in improving on nature. Her cheeks, her mouth, her eyes, and lashes had been, he guessed, far above the average in beauty before she had begun experimenting with them. And her experiments had been clumsy.

“Mr. Bartlett is going to stay all night, sweetheart. I told him he could get a whole lot more of a line on us that way than just interviewing me in the office. I mean I’m tongue-tied when it comes to talking about my work and my success. I mean it’s better to see me out here as I am, in my home, with my family.”

“But, sweetheart, ” said his wife, “what about Mr. Latham? ” “Gosh! I forget all about him! I must phone and see if I can call it off. You see, ” he explained to Bartlett, “I made a date to go up to Latham’s, the sugar people. We’re going to talk over the new club. I mean a real golf club! I’ll phone and see if I can postpone it.” “I don’t see how you can postpone it, sweetheart, ” said Celia. “They’ll be mad if you don’t go.” “I’m afraid they would resent it, sweetheart. You can entertain Mr. Bartlett and I’ll come back as soon as I can. And Bartlett and I can talk when I get back.” “That suits me, ” said Bartlett. “I’ll be as entertaining as I can, ” said Celia. “Well, that’s all fixed then, ” said the relieved host. “I hope you’ll excuse me running away. I mean the sooner I get started, the sooner I’ll be back. Sweetheart, try and keep your guest awake and don’t let him die of thirst. There’s a fresh bottle of the Bourbon, so go to it. I mean help yourself. It’s too bad you have to drink alone.”

“It is too bad, Mr. Bartlett, ” said Celia when Gregg had gone. “What’s too bad? ” asked Bartlett. “That you have to drink alone. I feel like I wasn’t being a good hostess to let you do it. In fact, I refuse to let you do it. I’ll join you in just a little wee sip.” She mixed two life-sized high-balls and handed one to her guest. “Well, you had that wine at dinner, so I’ll have to catch up with you.” She poured herself another high-ball and began the task of “catching up.” “The trouble with you, Mr. –I can’t think of your name.” “Bartlett.” “The trouble with you, Barker - do you know what’s the trouble with you? You’re too sober. If you weren’t so sober, we’d be better off. What I can’t understand is how you can be so sober and me so high.” “You’re not used to it.” “Not used to it! That’s the cat’s pajamas! Say, I’m like this half the time, see? If I wasn’t, I’d die! ” “What does your husband say? ” “He don’t say because he don’t know. See, Barker? There’s nights when he’s out and there’s a few nights when I’m out myself. And there’s other nights when we’re both in and I pretend I’m sleepy and I go upstairs. But I don’t go to bed. See? I have a little party all by myself. I’d give anything in the world to be out of this mess. I’d give anything to never see him again.’“Don’t you love him anymore? Doesn’t he love you? ’ “Love! I never did love him! I didn’t know what love was! And all his love is for himself! ” “How did you happen to get married? ” “I was a kid; that’s the answer. A kid and ambitious. He was a director then and he got stuck on me and I thought he’d make me a star. I married him to get myself a chance. And now look at me! ”

“I’d say you were fairly well off.” “Well off, am I? I’d change places with the scum of the earth just to be free! See, Barker? And I could have been a star without any help if I’d only realized it. I had the looks and had the talent. I’ve got it yet. I could get myself a marquis; maybe a prince! And look what I did get! A self-satisfied, self-centered –… He’s made me a chronic mother and it’s wonder I’ve got any looks left. I fought at first. I told him marriage didn’t mean giving up my art, my lifework. But it was no use. He wanted a beautiful wife and beautiful children for his beautiful home. Just to show us off. See? I’m part of his chattels. See, Barker? I’m just like his big diamond or his cars or his horses. And he wouldn’t stand for his wife ‘lowering’ herself to act in pictures. Babies! You thought little Norma was pretty. Well, she is. And what is it going to get her? A rich – of a husband that treats her like a -! That’s what it’ll get her if I don’t interfere. I hope I don’t live long enough to see her grow up, but if I do, I’m going to advice her to run away from home and live her own life. And be somebody! Not a thing like I am! See, Barker? ” “Did you ever think of a divorce? ” “Did I ever think of one! Listen – but there’s no chance. I’ve got nothing on him, and no matter what he had on me, he’d never let the world know it. He’d keep me here and torture me like he does now, only worse. But I haven’t done anything wrong, see? The men I might care for, they’re all scared of him and his money and power. See, Barker? And the others are just as bad as him”

“I think it’s about time you were running up – upstairs, ” said Bartlett. “If I were you, I’d try to be in bed and asleep when Gregg gets home.” “You’re all right, Barker. And after this drink I’m doing to do just as you say. Tonight you can help me out by telling him I had a bad headache.”

Left alone, Bartlett thought a while, then read, and finally dozed off. He was dozing when Gregg returned. “Well, well, Bartlett, ” said the great man, “did Celia desert you? ” “It was perfectly all right, Mr. Gregg. She had a headache and I told her to go to bed.” “She’s had a lot of headaches lately; reads too much, I guess.”

Celia had not put in an appearance when Gregg and his guest were ready to leave the house next day. “She always sleeps late, ” said Gregg. “But she’s later than usual this morning. Sweetheart! ” he called up the stairs. “Yes, sweetheart, ” came the reply. “Mr. Bartlett’s leaving now. I mean he’s going.”

“Oh, good-by, Mr. Bartlett. Please forgive me for not being down to see you off.”

“You’re forgiven, Mrs. Gregg. And thanks for your hospitality.”

“Good-by, sweetheart! ”

“Good-by, sweetheart! ”