David Graham Phillips

The Social Secretary David Graham Phillips

NOVEMBER 29. At half-past one to-day-half-past one exactly-Ibegan my "career." Mrs. Carteret said she would call for me at five minutes to one. But itwas ten minutes after when she appeared, away down at thecorner of I Street. Jim was walking up and down the drawing-room; Iwas at the window, watching that corner of I Street. "There sheblows!" I cried, my voice brave, but my heart like a big lump ofsomething soggy and sad. Jim hurried up and stood behind me, staring glumly over myshoulder. He has proposed to me in so many words more thantwenty times in the last three years, and has looked it every timewe've met-we meet almost every day. I could feel that he wasgetting ready to propose again, but I hadn't the slightest fear that he'dtouch me. He's in the army, and his "pull" has kept him snug andsafe at Washington and has promoted him steadily until now he's aColonel at thirty-five