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Show . -rendeen, t vivacious little 'JL too young to feel the i- W Then her father, Keith aZ this fortune. A gentle. ul he is now employed chemist in San Fran-; Fran-; leaser salary. His wife. 0 adjust herself to the lis a beautiful woman, fond ' ind magnet for men's fsagda and Victoria have been primer resort and Keith ' (or the week-end. Magda ?, bridge party, excusing her-"V-g such a "runaway. Later Victoria is grief-stricken when K as parents quarreling. The tfreturn to their small San Apartment. Keith does not ' Mafda's mad social life and frequently. Magda receives j diamond from Ferdy Man-''."nalthy Man-''."nalthy man from Argentina 't, bad met less than a week Manners arrives a few hours Veda takes Victoria to Nevada - . soman friend who has a v umed Catherine. There she iteiseoine to get a divorce, i'iion Is in boarding school with Catherine. Magda marries "JT aid they spend two years In 'a fcctoria has studied In Eu-J Eu-J it eighteen she visits her .ten Ferdy rents a beautiful ,'uagda is unhappy over Ferdy's ,- and attentions to other women, ikes him, but for her mother's iEice to him. When her mother Waller return to South America, j refuses to go with them because -jys unwelcome attentions to ifcgda returns. (HAPTEB m Continued ;;t dog, parrot, bags, they got i large waiting car at the Em-.iero, Em-.iero, Mrs. Manners talking, : He custom of returned travel trav-el the amusing steward on ::at the races at Havana, of ; iLng unimportant and incon--tiaL They were driven rap-? rap-? the steep hills to the big . everything .going with the iiess of custom; Victoria's .a had been arriving and de-4 de-4 in just this manner ever 1 her second marriage five :: earlier. j Victoria and her mother set- ;l luncheon beside the fire. 'ill, this is fun!" said Magda : "And now we can talk.. You swell, Vic, and you're really -me. Really you are! What iiiubeen doing with yourself, a everything, you got my t tfre the one with the news," M smilingly. "Nothing has aedhere. Miss Butler put me H duty last night only the A time, and I'm dead! I had is! at the hospital at seven, -id to clean up three bath-i bath-i and stopped on my way to leave my bag here." i hospital!" Magda echoed ;l not hearing the rest, -re been ill!" "ia's smile was reassuring. r was beginning to come , as she fell with vigor 1 three-inch steak, and there :'ived light in her eyes. Jta with Catherine," she ex- "Student nurses." '"Manners sat back and re- er with puzzled eyes, -"my, you're such fun it's "o be talking to you again, ;the best food I ever tasted! ;ul'ng," Victoria pleaded, "I ; do something. I couldn't room somewhere and 'Jon. You were with Ferdy ""n in South America, and Acutely on the loose." :J .... . . were with Anna and :'ine." ;at Alwa got a most flattering .., 4 S(ol in Cleveland. .7 'go with her, and Kittsy to be a nurse. So I i "one to the hospital with sr handsome," Madga , her breath, not listen-.ntthgy listen-.ntthgy let you use make y you sort of get ,;ehvt. What are you look-. look-. Victoria asked, with an : s kugh, as her mother ih Placid scrutiny. ""'re simply adorable, id at length, "and 'aSUc 5ust the way i. ."'-a'though it's a . 1 ".'""fht plan in mind for ;deb.'"king EurPe' enlvVMky ehoed' her own 'VttnH a2mg- Sheremem-le"1 Sheremem-le"1 year there under C:!"8 chaPonage nuns' Aeain she 'Cl "s 01 me splash- ,r, ghts of thev Place de tro! g White statues a blu LT in bld relief clet sky' caught a i bo f 'lg, enness from wVhe Lond Mall. Jd ,. she said. Mther-you and I? J Victoria's voice shook with excitement. excite-ment. "We two." "Ferdy wouldn't mind?" Instead of answering, Mrs. Manners Man-ners looked away through the exquisite ex-quisite silky shadows of half-lowered lashes. Victoria's heart sank; she knew that gentle patience, she knew that long, resigned sigh. All was not going well between her mother and Ferdy. The luncheon was cleared away; the two women resumed their chairs by the wood fire. "There are a thousand persons to whom I ought to telephone," Madga said lazily. "I won't, I love this sitting here with you. You haven't told me anything about yourselt Vicky, have you seen or heard anything any-thing of your father?" The question came suddenly, and with it the color rose to Magda's face. "Yes, I saw Dad about two weeks ago," she said aloud. Magda added no further questions, ques-tions, but her eyes were expectant. "He's married again, you know, Mummy. I wrote you that. And they're going to have a baby. They were married last February, and they expect the baby at Christmas. He simply adores Olivette, and he's all excited about the baby." "Ha!" Magda said and fell thoughtful. "Still up in Seattle?" "He says he loves it" Magda twisted the Herrendeen pearls in beautiful restless fingers. But for some reason or other she felt a little chill in the air, felt that her mother wasn't wholly pleased with the news that Dad was happy and that a new baby was on the way. "Ferdy," said Madga, out of thought "Ferdy is a strange creature, crea-ture, Vicky. I may as well tell you now as at any time that everything's every-thing's wrong it's all wrong." Victoria was silent, puzzled, and after a pause Magda went on lightly: light-ly: "And so Mr. Fernando Ainsa y Castello Manners and I have decided de-cided to separate. No, no, no, not a divorce," she interrupted herself to say quickly, as Vicky's stricken face was turned from the fire in involuntary protest. "He doesn't want a divorce. If he got a divorce di-vorce Maud Campbell would have him married before he could turn around, so he doesn't want a divorce, di-vorce, and neither do I. If you get a divorce they can do all sorts of funny, things about alimony, go to court and have it adjusted and lessened less-ened I don't know what they can't do. But a separation means that you and I can live where we like, and do as we please. And so it's to be Europe off we go! I'll get you some things or we can get them therer-" , "The only thing," Victoria began somewhat hesitantly, "Ought Ferdy pay for me, too? I mean, it's all right for a visit it's all right for a few months. But after all after all he doesn't owe me " "It's my money, and you're with me," Magda explained simply, with a touch of impatience. "I was thinking of Ferdy, Vic," Magda said, out of a silence, "and thinking " she stopped for a long sigh "thinking of the tremendous difference there is in men," she said. "I mean, Vic," she began again, as Victoria could find nothing to say "I mean that well, I suppose 1 was tnmKing 01 Jucius r armer. "Who's he?" A familiar tightening, tighten-ing, a familiar sinking sensation was at Victoria's heart- Oh, dear. Oh, dear. This was commencing again was it? "You must know his name, darling. dar-ling. He's about the most successful success-ful painter of murals in America. He made the trip with us from Buenos Aires, but he lives down here in Carmel with a perfectly impossible wife and daughters." "And what did the impossible wife and daughters think of you, Mummy?" Mum-my?" "Oh, they weren't along perish the thought! No, he was alone." Magda's voice fell to a dreamy note. "One of the finest men" she said, under her breath. "I mean one of the simplest and and biggest big-gest and gentlest "This life would be heaven for women, Vic, if many men were like him!" And again Victoria could find nothing to say. Lucius Farmer came tc see them the next morning. Magda was restless; Victoria had gone into her own room to try on a gown her mother had brought her. It was of sheer batiste, embroidered delicately with tiny garlands of roses, all in white. It was the sort of gown that makes any girl's eyes dance, and Victoria, coming back with its frail folds blowing about her, wore the radiant expression that only a new gown gives to twenty years. She halted at the sight of a strange tall man standing at the foggy window, talking- with her mother. They both turned. Vic tona's hand was taken in a big hard hand. She liked toe man at once, one must like him; there was something about Lucius that disarmed dis-armed criticism, that won all hearts. Something simple and friendly, and a little uncertain and timid, and at the same time some-thing some-thing definite and vital; there was a world of mirth, a child's secret and delicious merriment in his gray eyes. He was not smiling this morning; he seemed serious and burdened', immediately the pleasantries of greeting had died away. Victoria, presently going back to her room! could hear through the open doorway door-way the gravity of his tone as he and her mother talked at the window, win-dow, their heads together. "I can't, Magda," he said more than once. "I'm so sorry I can't." But when Victoria came out again to find her mother alone, there was an air of disappointment or defeat in Mrs. Manners' attitude. She was glowing with inner fires; she was shaken, laughing, ecstatic. She put her arms about Vicky; held the girl away from her to laugh into her eyes. "My darling, do you like him?" Victoria regarded her with a smile that had small heart in it. "Isn't the question do you?" "Vic, on the steamer, the day we left Buenos Aires, we found each other!" Magda said. "He came up to me and said, 'Aren't you the Valdes' friend, Senora Manners?' I don't know how he ever nerved himself to do it, for he's not like that as a rule. But he said he had seen me at the country club. We hardly spoke to anyone else on the voyage; we had our meals on deck, we talked and talked as if we never could talk enoughl "For the first time in my life, Vic, I have met a man who stirs in me something something that I might have been, might have had?" Magda Mag-da continued. "He loves me, I know that, although he's never told me so. But it isn't that. It's the companionship, the exquisite delight 1 1 ''51 "I Love This Sitting Here With You." of being understood understood!" Magda broke off to say in amused scorn. "He knows more than I of everything books, music, people. And his attitude toward life is so beautiful, so simple and eager and fine." ? There was a silence. Magda smiled and wiped suddenly wet eyes, and Victoria smiled, too, a mother's patient smile for a child. "So what?" the girl asked good-naturedly. good-naturedly. "So nothing, my darling, that's the tragedy!" Magda answered lightly, and there was another silence. si-lence. "No," she went on presently, ending end-ing it. "Ferdy gets here next week, and Lucius goes aown iu ui wu. and the little girls in Carmel, and that's the end." The day moved on. That night, when they went downstairs down-stairs to join the Kendalls, and be carried off for a dinner, Victoria saw Lucius and a woman and two gawky dark shy girls, all sitting in the great red chairs of the hotel foyer, evidently waiting for someone. some-one. Was it for Mother? Whether it was or not they all came over to Vic and Magda, and there were introductions. Mrs. Farmer was a plain stout wholesome whole-some - looking little woman in glasses, with ropes of oily gray-brown gray-brown hair wound about her head. The girls were like her, although both gave promise of some beauty. Ann. Constance. Victoria. "Vicky," said her mother, in the course of the next few days, "when you fall in love, make it with a man to whom you can be an inspiration. It's a sacred thing it's worth all the pain and the ache, to inspire a truly great man!" At first Victoria felt most pity for the man. He was clever, keen, affectionate, af-fectionate, simple, and he was suffering suf-fering cruelly. After a few weeks she perceived that her mother was in miserv as great as his. Magda carried it better, but it was there. Ferdy was back now, restless, irritable, ir-ritable, unreasonable. He went to races fights, polo games with ir.cn; he went oft on hunting and Cshmg trips. Sometimes Victoria woi.ii. him entirely oblivious of what was going on; sometimes she thought he knew. Magda was burning up with it; she could not have wholly concealed con-cealed it even if she would. She glowed and trembled, laughed and cried; she was strangely, awkwardly awk-wardly like a girl again a girl upon whom the inexorable forties had set their tragic seal. Somehow Some-how it hurt Victoria to the deeps of her soul to see her mother's agony in this grip of young love. Lucius was fighting it; grimly, honestly, uselessly. He and Magda met; sat long over hotel tea tables telling each other that this must be the end, that there was no honor, no happiness for them except in renunciation. Magda, in her dark violet velvet, with the broad brim of her dark velvet hat shadowing her splendid eyes, and the rich gold-brown gold-brown of sables setting off her exquisite ex-quisite skin, was perhaps as beautiful beau-tiful at such moments as she had ever been In her life. Just to be with Lucius brought the transparent transpar-ent color to her face and the strange liquid pulsing to her eyes. But when they had parted it was only to begin the agony again. Ferdy was settled in a suite of rooms connecting with Magda's own. It was Ferdy who brought to Victoria Vic-toria and Magda a handful of steamship steam-ship companies' folders. They opened the shining, brightly colored little booklets eagerly, studied floor plans, discussed "Deck B" and "Deck C." It was Ferdy's idea that Magda and Victoria take one of the canal steamers to New York, stopping at South America and island is-land ports, using up the coldest of the winter weeks on the leisurely trip. "It's just possible that Lucius will be on the Elcantic with us," Magda said one day innocently. "Mother, don't let himl" Vic pleaded. Magda looked at her, and the color rushed into her own face. "But, what am I to do, Vic? I can't stand this!" Magda suddenly muttered defensively. CHAPTER IV Victoria looked sympathy, distress. dis-tress. "We'll be gone in a week, Mummy. Mum-my. Then won't it be better?" Magda looked at her daughter somberly. "I'm forty-two, Vicky, and I've never liked anyone before," Magda Mag-da faltered, with a little difficulty. "It isn't only myself truly, Vic, it isn't. But it's to hurt him so horribly hor-ribly to ruin his life, now when he's just beginning to succeed that's what kills me," Magda whispered. whis-pered. "But you're separating, Mother. We'll be gone in a few days. That'll help," Victoria said, forcing herself her-self to gentleness and sympathy. "That's just it, Vic. It'll kill him." Magda shut her eyes, and tears squeezed themselves under the lowered lashes. "But he'll have his work, and his wife and children " Victoria began be-gan and stopped. "His wife means absolutely nothing noth-ing to him, Vic. They've been nothing noth-ing to each other for five years. He told me so." "But Mother," she presently offered of-fered doubtfully, "doesn't a man belong to his wife?" To this Magda superbly made no answer. With an expression of pa- tient endurance she rose and swept into her room. When the bright soft morning came, "Magda was exhausted. Her face was bleached and blotched with tears, her eyes swollen, and the hair that had so often been pushed off her forehead during the fevers of the night hung in careless locks and showed darkness at its roots. Victoria was dressed in silk pajamas, pa-jamas, having her own breakfast, when her mother awakened; she set Magda's tray on the tumbled bed before her. But her mother could not eat. She drank a little coffee, set the tray aside. "Vic," she breathed, "what shall I do?" "Mother, you mustn't cry so. Ferd's coming up this morning; he'll be here for lunch!" "Ferd knows," her mother whispered, whis-pered, not opening her eyes. "Ferd knows!" Victoria was startled. star-tled. "I told him." Magda shrugged indifferently. in-differently. "Well, what does he think? Is he What does he say?" "Nothing. It amused him, I think," Magda said, with more bitterness bit-terness than Victoria had ever seen in her before. "You wouldn't like to divorce Ferdy?" Fer-dy?" Victoria asked doubtfully. "If Lucius got a divorce?" "He won't hear of it." "Ferdy won't!" It was an exclamation. excla-mation. "No. He's frightened to death of that Campbell woman. She's going to be on the Loughborough yacht; he knows that the minute I'm out she'll be in. He's tiring of her already, al-ready, or if he's not he's beginning to feel that he will some day. As long as he's married to me he's safe." (TO de coyrixiEDt |