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Show SVXOFSIS vivacious little ZS to feel the J Then Vr 'ather. Keith S rorUe. He is a 10 ,h. will. His wife. -Tidiust herself to the tautlful woman, fond t magnet, for men's f'L nd Victoria have -Ser resort and Keith iw week-end. Magda ' d.e party, excusing her-' her-' fch a "runaway." The f Ira to their small San J T,pnL Keith does not ',?.! social life and Muently. Magda re- from a wealthy man from had met less than Manners arrives a few -Z Masda takes Victoria to ff, woman friend who has "ited Catherine. There she U going to get a divorce , 15 la boarding school with 1 Catherine. Magda mar- and they spend two years Victoria has studied In , ,d',t eighteen she visits her 1 'i, verdy rents a beautiful 1 Vrdaii unhappy over Ferdy s Z attentions to other women. 1 bim When her mother and j .'return to South America. Vie-;'-b to go with them. Magda H teUs Vic she and Ferdy have 1 Meanwhile Keith has remar- I Clia is now a student nurse. . i;' alien in love with Lucius , married artist While she '.' r-epare for a trip to Europe, II . Jes a suite in their hotel. - Wore Magda and Vic are to I -ia elooes with Lucius Farmer. L the children of Dr. and 'is Vic meets Dr. Quentin Har--iliant physician, much sought ' "omen. who is a widower with 4 daughter. In a tete-a-tete at .tome, he kisses Vic. Several he invites her with other !' tnend a week-end at his cabin. . -,,, ...HI, tho pnhin. Nexl nit and Quentin go hiking and ;! Vvenous. The party is disrupt-i disrupt-i aitemoon by the arrival of Pool, a divorced woman. Vic is ' si Mrs. Pool and a few days :t i Mrs. Keats she is going to i i In his office, Quentin ques-, ques-, about leaving. He proposes " She accepts him and they are 11 I Vic and Quentin are idyllicly : their home. During six years .. ; has (our children. The Har-' Har-' :r. when Victoria's mother sud-' sud-' rnes from Europe, her romance 0, :;mier ended, a bit disillusioned, ,) :; older and practically penniless, l to live with the Hardistys, who ! five children. At the opera the -s first see Serena Morrison, an . : md striking looking beauty. .-.appears interested, but they do :A Magda gives Vic some ad-: ad-: aw to hold a husband, warning : iirens who are on the outlook for I UPTER Vn-Continued -9 i:.emen never would," Magda Hi "But some men are after ' "-smart women and beauti- acn - all the time! The -i full of them now women ;vc comfortable big alimonies :-'-'merits, and who are on the ' hunting for someone like "J-someone to love!" fe are lots of men handsomer dentin for them to go after," a observed with a laugh. ;- it isn't looks that count, Vic. j 'ard-faced, deep-voiced, dark-- dark-- square sort of man is well, ! ?." Mrs. Herrendeen said, :-i8 lightly, looking away, "I ! that if I were ten years iir I'd give that lad of yours -' tor his money!" :ce Vicky was not amused; ; secretly affronted by her words. Magda broke the , ..age isn't what it used to ' h the old days if a man aiiuer mere were places So that his wife never '.;bcut- Women suspected what on, but they were having or a dozen children and S mickens and making soap . ,;'g up preserves, and they -".Jnave m"ch to say. It's dif-women dif-women they can ,; ! ot their own class, and not aU after presents and .alimony. They want love ,'; Sot money! They're after There's a sex war on, ""ten don't want one expe-" expe-" want twenty, now! ,' ate the word 'sex,' and mwh talk about it, and ' turn ,ea that u's the most I 4! ng in the world!" Vic j ;;,Jy with feeling. jV1,,1' the most important ' -ed h WorId'" her mother -"j1" seriously. : ShLafSn0-0lt her head. frown-;s; frown-;s; U "Jto thought, and her : "us in her favorite fash-;.tMcwh fash-;.tMcwh beside the fire, was ';;Vir , that evening Vic- ;:4oSnUhethouSex hand on his. ' iri6ht' But after-Si after-Si nten-i ,.ave t go all through : 'aptinT 8 women and worn-8 worn-8 men to throw every thing else over, decency and home and honor and obligation?" "Often," the doctor said slowly, "it is that way. They tell me about it," he added. "How do you mean, 'it is that way'?" "I mean that a man who really loves his wife and kids, who is perfectly per-fectly satisfied with his home life " "Perfectly satisfied!" The tame phrase affronted her, and she laughed. "Well, perhaps what I mean is that his new affair has nothing to do with his his organized life. He meets some woman who appeals to ! him tremendously irresistibly " "Physically!" Vic put in, scornfully, scorn-fully, as he hesitated for a word. He accepted it simply, unsuspiciously. unsuspicious-ly. "Oh, yes, primarily that. Primarily Pri-marily that. She has some trick of using her eyes some note in her voice something that sets him on fire just as definitely as if a fuse were lighted." There was a pause. Victoria was studying his face attentively. "Yes, but suppose all that," she presently said. "Grant all that! Is he then to tear up his whole life, kick his wife out, deprive his children chil-dren of their father " "It's usually the wife who does that, Vicky." "A man might expect his wife to forgive him," Vicky said, after ; thought. "But then how would she i know that it mightn't happen again?" "She wouldn't," Quentin said, mildly, unsmilingly. i "Ha!" Vicky exclaimed, out of deep thought. Quentin laughed. "It would seem that it takes you by surprise," he observed. "Well, it does. I've always felt I've always hoped that a man liked a woman for other things her being sweet-tempered, and a good sport, and making him a -comfortable home, and loving him " She stopped short in her catalogue so much in earnest that tears were near her eyes. "He does, Vic. A man who has a wife like that is lucky, and he knows it. But that doesn't mean that oh, well, that the look some woman gives him over her shoulder as she goes out of his office won't won't stay with him for days." "Oh, Quentin!" Victoria exclaimed ex-claimed in surprise and dismay. And irresistibly she added, "Does that happen to you?" "Sometimes!" The doctor admitted, admit-ted, laughing. "But but there's no sense to it! Look what it leads to. Look at Mother, and so many others the mess they make of it! In the end-in end-in the end " "In the end it's the Vickys who show them what fools they were," Quentin said, teasingly. "Quentin, have you since we were married, I mean ever had that feeling about any other woman?" wom-an?" "I'd tell you if I had, would I? "I think you would." "Well, I don't know but that I would! I believe you'd be very understanding un-derstanding about it. You'd pity the sinner and forgive the sin. But a man with five kids, another coming, a new stove to put in, bills unpaid, and an operation at eight tomorrow tomor-row morning has a swell chance at that sort of thing!" Quentin yawned. "I'd be afraid of your mother, anyway," any-way," he laughed. CHAPTER VIII Serena, wife of Spencer Ashley George Morrison, was by birth part English and part Dane; she had been married to this, her third husband, hus-band, for only a few years, and was in her early thirties when the Morrisons Mor-risons came to California in search of sunshine and health. Not that Serena herself was not glorious in health and strength, and her child, Gita, seven years old, as strong as a little bullock, but her husband had been seriously injured in a hunting hunt-ing accident and would never be whole and well again. There was a good income somewhere. some-where. The little family could afford af-ford to choose what place and what climate it preferred. Menlo Park-some Park-some eighteen to twenty miles down the peninsula KSnTran-cisco-toally had seemed to be the ideal place, and they had bougat the Tracy house, right next door to Dr. Quentin Hardisty's big place, in the week when Madeleine Hardisty was a year old. , The Hardistys' old-fashioned place was spacious, plain, comfortable But the Morrisons' residence was quite new. and iovely in plas ered Spanish patios, tiled oddments of sloping roof, oaks, peppers, roses, flagged paths. Little Gita Stewart. Serena's daughter, lonely and curious curi-ous and bold, had lost no time in creeping through the evergreen hedge that separated the two" gardens, gar-dens, crossing the Hardistys' old tennis court and, skirting the berry patch, threading her way under the oaks and over the lawn, and finally discovering what she later had described de-scribed to her nurse as the most fascinating family she had ever met: a mother who was fixing the Puppy's hurt head with rags and water and medicines, and boys named Kenty and Dicky and Bobs, and girls named Gwen and Sue, and a baby that could walk. The adult members of the family did not meet so simply. It was at a country-club lunch that Victoria first noticed the straw-haired woman and identified her as the beauty Quentin had noticed more than a year earlier. Everyone was noticing notic-ing Serena that dav and nslHno about her; it was her first social appearance since the long-ago night at the opera, although she had been In her new house for almost a month. Quentin and some of the other men had been playing golf since breakfast time; Victoria had come later to the club to carry her husband hus-band home for lunch. With Gwen and her two older children she was watching the tennis when she saw Mrs. Morrison for the first time; presently Phyllis Tichnor came up with the newcomer in tow. "Vic, you know Mrs. Morrison?" "I don't," Vic said, smiling. "I'm so glad to! I remember seeing Mrs. Morrison at the opera last year, and I think our children know each other?" "Our children?" echoed the beautiful beau-tiful Mrs. Morrison, raising the delicate del-icate dark line of her eyebrows. "Isn't your small girl Gita Stewart?" Stew-art?" "You ought to know each other," said Phyllis. "You live right near. Is there a place between you and the Tracy house or aren't you right next door?" "Oh, of course we are," Serena said slowly, with no change of expression ex-pression beyond a hint of languid curiosity. ."It's your children Gita talks to Amah about?" "I am not a very formal person. You can't be, when you have six children," Vicky explained, when they were comfortably seated, watching the tennis. "But I do mean to come and see you one of these days!" "You have six children?" The , beautiful voice could not be said to : "You Have Six Children?" have even a trace of Norse accent, ac-cent, and yet there was a charming charm-ing little halt in Serena's words now and then, a slight clinging and lingering that marked her as not all English-born. "She always tells eveiyone that instantly," Phyllis said. "I have. And they make it hard for me ever to get away." "But do come and see me. Except Ex-cept for Phyllis here," Serena said, completely expressionless in voice and face, "I am quite strange in California." . "We were in school in Paris together, to-gether, Serena and I, but I didn't know they were here until last week!" Phyllis explained. "If you know Phyllis you know everybody; she's the special minister min-ister between Europe and America Amer-ica " Victoria said. -"We were in the' 'Assomption' in Rome together, too, but we had known each other before that." "You were at the 'Assomption ? How I hated it!" Serena said, in her calm, emotionless way. "Gallo coming to take us driving on Sundays," Phyllis put in, and the three laughed together Then Phyllis went away, and Victoria could study at her ease the extraor- dinary beauty of the flower-like face in the clear shadow of the parasol. Exquisite womanhood; those were the two words that Serena suggest- There was a silence filled with faint distant sounds and the click of balls. The club gardens blazed with Sowers; there were stretches of green lawn beneath the trees; the sun shone waring. "There, who's that?" Serena suddenly sud-denly asked, with the first sign of animation in voice and manner that Vicky had seen her. "Which one?" The brown man-the square one. in white. With that other man. W. That's my husband-Dr. Hard.s-tv Hard.s-tv " Vicky said, pleased at her interest. in-terest. "Run get him. Gwen-yes, go along, Susan, you can go. "Your husband?" Serena asked, not moving her eyes from the dis- ! tant figures of the men. "Yes. Well, trot along with them, Kenty," Vicky said bracingly. "Don't cry because they're ahead of you. Quent," she added welcom-ingly, welcom-ingly, as he came up with the children chil-dren hanging on his hands, "we're all ready to go we'll be just in time!" Quentin and Mrs. Morrison were looking at each other, smiling. "You'll have to introduce me, Vicky." "Oh, J do beg your pardon! I always think that everyone knows everyone else. Mrs. Morrison, my husband. Dr. Hardisty. Quentin, do you remember who this is?" "I do," Quentin said, smiling down at Serena, his white teeth and white clothes in almost startling contrast to the Indian brown of his face and skin. Serena looked up from the lavender shadows of the white parasol that was slowly turning turn-ing behind her golden braided head. "You were on your way to China?" "It was before my husband's accident ac-cident yes, we had a wonderful trip!" the woman said, smiling lazily laz-ily with sea-blue eyes, raising heavy dark gold lashes. "And they're neighbors," Vicky told him. "They are the people in the Tracy place!" "Next door?" Quentin's face broke again Into his own pleasant imile. "You remember Gita, Quentin, who plays with the children? Mrs. Morrison is Gita's mother." "Oh, I thought the name was Stewart?" "Gita's father is dead," Serena explained it. She continued to look up at Quentin, and Quentin to look down at her. "You've all been such angels to the child" she said. "She's been horribly lonely all her life, alone with her amah. I brought her amah with her, from China." Vicky was baffled by the other woman's sleepy manner, by the vague words that seemed to have some meaning beyond their obvious meaning, for Quentin at least, for his face was absolutely radiant as he continued to hold Serena's hand and to look down at her. "She's had you, hasn't she?" Vicky said sensibly. And she touched Quentin's arm with that wifely signal that says, "The children chil-dren are ravenous. Let's get home and have lunch!" Serena was paying no attention to Vicky; she looked only at Quen tin. "I can't be much with my little girl. You see my husband's an invalid," in-valid," she said, in a child's flat tone. "Ah, that's too bad!" "They said he was slated for a brilliant career. But he was thrown from a horse, and dragged, about four months ago. It's his back, and he lost his eye." There was something extraordinarily extraordi-narily incongruous between her unruffled un-ruffled flawless beauty and the terrible ter-rible thing she said; the white hand, the white skin, the gold hair and innocent blue eyes under the parasol para-sol were apparently unaffected. "Tough luck!" Quentin said. Victoria Vic-toria pressed his arm again. "Will you come and see him, Dr. Hardisty?" "I'd like to." "I wish you would!" Mrs. Morrison Mor-rison said. "We're always there in the late afternoons." The frills of her parasol tumbled slowly as she twirled it. "Daddy, I'm hun-n-ngry!" Kenty shouted. Quentin accompanied his family to the waiting car, after a cordial good-by from them all to the new neighbor. Mildly, as he took his place in the driver's seat, the doctor observed to his wife that he wished that the children would not be rude. "He's terribly hungry, Daddy, and we're late." "I know," Quentin said. "I know. But she was telling us of her husband; hus-band; I don't imagine she often gets to talking of her troubles." Victoria glanced at his profile in surprise, ready to laugh. But he was quite serious. "But did you ever know anyone to talk of dreadful of ghastly things, so calmly? That poor husband hus-band of hers imagine being cut off in the very beginning of your career, ca-reer, blinded." Quentin, turning into their own, made no comment, and Kenty said animatedly: "Why din' Gita go to the club, Mummy?" "She stays with her amah! Susan Su-san supplied. "You speak of the man's misfortune," misfor-tune," Quentin began unexpectedly, at lunch. "I was thinking of hers." Victoria raised interrogative eyebrows. eye-brows. She had been cutting chicken chick-en into tiny pieces on Susan's plate, murmuring to the waitress, murmuring mur-muring to her mother. "I was thinking," Quentin expanded ex-panded it, "that it must be a pretty dull life for her, planted down here in a country house with an Invalid and a child!" "They have our rabbits, too, Dad," Susan contributed animatedly. animated-ly. "They have the two rabbits we gived Gita." (TO BE COSTIM ED) |