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Show ; IV ELINOR DflfiKEU O l' 0 ARCADIA HOUSE PUBLICATIONS WNU SERVICE I ' SVNOPSIS , her father, Jim, an ' S meet a train which t,l0r'si" "r-in-law. unmar-si unmar-si .aell, J her friend. Le- !, f fL,Dir a Christmas r them are I 'irSfnger sister. El-4 El-4 ilsvM'-, ,,g maiden sts-i sts-i F ls,Mr S.nd Peter, the baby of i Msm'L depot Dr Christopher j fe-CVwS ? with their luK-IniK luK-IniK ,f peretly 'n love with i f Mar? VlMVln. her Aunt Lin-her Lin-her in New York. Mary works In a ill W'ere she spends her short stories. Mary's : ,lfas raUroad attorney, the :i tiJ,lw To earn money, she 5 c'W lam.'rittag in earnest. Mary fewest story. "At ! Is J ?nMs the editors of Na-t Na-t finishing it she calls S comes to the book F i'rrent novel. Falling from l :,r Meeting his book, she re-?! re-?! frtLness to find his arms I He "us her he loves her &I -: "Li, her he is to be married I- 1 th to a ertrl he has K;,5e Despondent. Mary de-1:11 de-1:11 J:, her Aunt Linnie's lnvt-. lnvt-. S,!CS 'vork her aunt laugh, at nlans to write, and insists C' as many eligible men The new week brings two 'f--. from the National Weekly. c"i' Ei i check for her story, makes "ilf ? happv. The other, from t .lis her that financial condi-r;- '-i teme are getting worse. The :'t at a parry given by her aunt. - ,'ffees distinguished Jerome Tay-r Tay-r : S middle aged man-abou -ts- , M elusive Count Umberto Ball-r-. lie count's oily manner nauseates J: ' i irom her father the follow-J! follow-J! ; ( oleads with her not to mention St- Ss financial plight to her aunt. ... ii she forces herseU toubt : on'her next short story, which i r difficult to write than the first, "iors on until her aunt informs her "-'isn't Umberto. whom Lelia terms 2" rer and fortune hunter, is to take ' t dinner that evening. He takes c lo ! garish restaurant In Greens' Green-s' sfiiae That evening Mary sends X 'try '"Their Son." to the National i: tiT 'She goes to see Phillip Bu-V Bu-V ta editor of the National Weekly, " n she has given her last story, ffi imies her to lunch. He congratu- ler lor the simple treatment given story, and says that her last of- , Ef- mil receive immediate attention. bch she is introduced to attractive onnsby, Lelia's former husband. iff; , CHAPTER VI Continued -7- u-Vir? watched Jim Ormsby as he Wjied across the room, and finally bppeared through the door into -i-ifojer. She liked his voice, the cly he carried his shoulders, the in ; trtect "hang" of his well-cut bthes. He looked just the sort of -S;fci wiorn Lelia might well have 0 ilsi-whom Lelia might well still )f..iith all her heart "He's very :yf;ttive," she said, more to her-n':'t her-n':'t Cto to Phillip Buchanan. ' '3e's tops," the man replied al-lei- tii belligerently, "and, to my way k I silking, he's been given a dirty t'- sl His wife divorced him a cou- ktl years ago on what was merely tonstantial evidence. Never . ire him a chance to explain; and m t was too damned proud to do so d ; to. Seemed to figure that if she n't have more faith in him than k appeared to have, he might as let her go." 1 Slay leaned across the table. "Is I ii fit, by any chance, named !" she asked excitedly. ' V Buchanan replied, sur-" sur-" W "it is! Do you know her?" t "H rather! In fact, she's a sort y"io( mine, and she's visiting NtUnnie right now!" si "0k. Lord! I hope I haven't said fm I shouldn't have!" A h Mr. Buchanan, not at all the way, isn.t it we were g feanan looked at his watch. Jlc,";.! ' How are T0u going up- smiled at him. "Literally, P she repUed. "Meta- on wings. You see. I'm e;RXC,tedoverthisaignment '&Z'',andI'Ud0mybeSt 4&3D motioned t0 Alphonse, check, and, leavl !b',fb! was ady to !'W,6 m7hearfrom us soon WmL r 3 decision on ""ieir z y tte fyer- "Thank A 1 . 'g with me." as , nded a oved hand. 5d her r askinS me." she re- "tliourtyTeS dancing- "I loved "fp'Med! What h repIied" -i Butshe J 0 you mean?" 4:iMherSUt 01 tte dor now, no n0t hear him. or else li e ,Har0Und' H heart K Z h fn " had been in met"fee'barely touchd J edupFifth Avenue. CHAPTER VU fWM seatd a e "l'om lhast,wmdow m the liv- h i:hi ns Mary retur-d t T e S ahPartme"t. "Ma-i1 "Ma-i1 'key in 'ed' faring the click 1 "Ves r'n1.the lath. '4 "Right h Where are you'"- ' "S all 1 Whirl for mvself, VMle fh Wihe West Indjes ,IUsl about,! I 1 believe that'd l!V4e a!i ST' Vlew' her eyes 5tay. her face flushed. "Good heavens!" cried Lelia. "What In the world have you been doing? You look as if you'd caught the world by the tail! I've never seen anybody quite so aglow! Did you see Mr. Buchanan?" Mary fell Into the cushions of the lounge and prepared to relax in comfort. "That's just It, Lelia." she replied, her voice husky with excitement "I not only saw Mr. Buchanan, but he took me to lunch at the Lafayette. And, Lelia, he wants me to write a series of 'shorts' for his magazine." "Darling! That's wonderful! Did he mention the delicate subject of pay?" "Yes, Lei, he did! He's going to increase the size of the checks as time goes on, providing, of course, my stuff clicks with the public. I'm so happy. You can't imagine what it means to me." "It means," Lelia said, her blue eyes serious, "that 'At Sea' must be a darned good tale, and that Phillip Buchanan feels he's made another of his well-known finds! Congratulations, Congratula-tions, my dear. By the way, how did you like Phil Buchanan?" "I liked him well enough," Mary replied, "but he acted as if he were bored to death with every word I uttered, and he looked at his watch at least six times." "Oh, well," chuckled Lelia, "he is a busy man." "Lelia," Mary began. "Yes?" replied Lelia, not looking up. "Lelia, I I met Jim Ormsby today." The older girl did not move, but Mary could see a deep red slowly rising to the nape of her neck. "He's a friend of Phil Buchanan's," Lelia returned evenly, her attention apparently ap-parently riveted on a colorful picture pic-ture of the race course at Havana. "Yes," Mary returned. "He asked Mr. Buchanan to spend the week-end at his house in Connecticut." Connecti-cut." Lelia turned about, a little smile twisting her lips, her eyes as blue and unfathomable as a wintry sea. "That house in Connecticut is "Yes," Buchanan replied, surprised, sur-prised, "it is! Do you know her?" sweet. White clap-board, and sort of straggling all over the side of the hill, and a fireplace in every room. We lived there most of the time, Jim and I." There was a revealing nostalgia in Lelia's tones as she spoke of the home she and Jim had shared together, to-gether, and Mary, sensing the ache that lay beneath those words, longed to rush to her and place sympathetic arms about her shoulders. Instead, she continued to stand by the window. win-dow. "He's attractive, Lelia." "Yes," Lelia replied dully. "There has never been anyone else like him in my life. And, Mary, there never will be. Did he seem well, and and happy?" "I saw him for just an instant, Le lia," Mary countered, wishing she had more to tell the other woman. "He merely came to our table at the Lafayette, and spoke to Mr. Buchanan about going to Connecticut Connecti-cut for the week-end. He said two other men whose names I don't remember re-member were to be in the party, and that they'd play Badminton and Bridge." A second of silence followed, broken bro-ken finally by Mary. "Was there any mail for me, Lelia, in the eleven o'clock delivery?" Lelia's shoulders jerked, as if she had been abruptly jarred out of a reverie. "Yes, I believe there's a letter from Hawkinsville. And, by the way, there's a box of something or other for you, delivered about an hour ago by a Western Union boy. Looks like candy, and I hope it is. I'm perishing for the want of a chocolate-covered mint." "The letter from home can wait an instant," Mary thought. "At least, until I see what's in this pack- She untied the ribbon, and tore away the glossy orange tissue that covered the box An envelope-enclosed card, tipped from its position by her eager fingers, feU to the floor. Stooping, she picked It up and read, "Fruits from Italy to a lovely lady, with the felicitations and adoration of Umberto." "Just so much eyewash!" she told herself. "The man scarcely knows me. I'll give the stuff to Addie. Maybe she'll like it." Then with a commingling of eagerness ea-gerness and apprehension, she opened the letter from Ellen. Mary dear: There's really not a thing to tell you, but I know that you worry when you don't hear from home every now and then, so am writing anyhow. Dad still hasn't been able to make any connections. Mother Is getting thinner thin-ner every day from worry, and Aunt Mamie goes sadly about with the usual chip on her shoulder. She has taken to referring wistfully to one Harry Archer who visited at Grandfather's house twenty-five years ago. IntimaUng that he was desperately in love with her, and that it was just too bad she didn't marry him. I asked Dad on the Q. T. If the guy really had been in love with her, and he replied that if he was, he managed to exert wonderful self-control. All Dad can remember about Harry Archer's visit was that there had been two picnics pic-nics at Hick's Bluff, and, in both cases, Harry had to be hit over the head with a club In order to get him even to go through the motions of being Aunt Mamie's Ma-mie's escort. Browns Business College have put me first on their list for any possible job that may present itsei. but I'm afraid the chances aren't so hot. I hope you're having a wonderful time. Have you seen Radio City yet? Give my love to Aunt Llnnie and Leila. Devotedly. Ellen. P. S. Chris Cragg was married to that Ilsa Graceland in Chicago last Saturday, and is bringing her to Hawkinsville the end of the week. Everybody's dying to see what she's like. For an Instant, the room went quite black before Mary's eyes, and it was only with supreme effort that she kept from slumping to the floor. So, Chris had married, after all! Of course, he had told her that he was going to. Of course, he had been honor-bound to carry through; yet all along, there had smoldered in the back of her mind the thought, "If he really loves me, he won't marry Ilsa. He can't! He'll surely tell her that he loves someone else that his marriage to her can't go through!" But the marriage had gone through last Saturday! Chris had now been married for five days. With fingers that seemed numb, she picked Ellen's letter up, tore it into tiny pieces, and dropped it into the waste basket How surprised Ellen would have, been had she dreamed of the portent of that postscript! post-script! "Thank God," Mary thought gratefully, "nobody not even Ellen knows how desperately I care for Chris! Nobody knows that I care at all!" At last, she turned from the dressing-table, and moved toward the bed. Blindly, she dropped to the bed, heedless of the satin spread that covered it, and lay there in a disconsolate heap, like a child that has been sent to his nursery for I punishment At laet, the tears began be-gan to come, and still unmindful of the coverlet, she buried her face against the protecting privacy of the pillow, and gratefully let them fall She did not know how long she lay there, but the winter darkness had fallen outside when Lelia finally entered the room and snapped on the light "Mary, I didn't know you were here!" she said, glimpsing the huddle of Mary's body on the bed. "Have you been asleep?" Mary sat up, trying to avert her haggard face from Lelia's gaze. "Yes," she lied. "I was asleep. What time is it, Lelia?" "Six o'clock, darling. Hadn't you better start dressing? This is the night you and Linnie are going to Jerry Taylor's, isn't it? He's sending send-ing the car for you, Mary?" "Yes?" "I wish you'd wear my ermine wrap tonight It would look simply ravishing on you, and I know Aunt Linnie wants you to appear particularly particu-larly beautifuL Jerome's quite a I person, you know even though he is, in my humble opinion, the worst sort of renegade.." "But, Lelia," Mary demurred. "I might get it soiled or tear it." "Don't be ridiculous, darling. I want you to wear it It'll look divine di-vine with that silver-threaded evening eve-ning frock of yours." "All right," Mary replied listlessly. listless-ly. "Thank you." But she was thinking, think-ing, "What difference does it make how I look? What difference does anything make. Chris is married." Three-quarters of an hour later, Mary, a transformed person, stood before the mirror of the dressing-table dressing-table The hot bath and icy shower had brought life and color back to her weary body; miraculously wiped from her face the ravages of sorrow. sor-row. Lelia had dusted just enough She picked Ellen's letter up and tore it into tiny pieces. rouge over the soft curve of her cheeks to disguise their pallor. Her lace frock clung lovingly to her body, and fell to the floor in an eddy of silver and white. Three orchids of deep purple perched lightly on her left shoulder, and now and then smoothed their soft petals against her cheek. Addie had just brought them in with the announcement that Mr. Taylor's chauffeur had delivered deliv-ered them, and that Mr Taylor's car was waiting at the door. "Well, if you ain't a dream!" Addie Ad-die cried. "Why, honey, you look just like a princess." Mary, suddenly aware that had it not been for Lelia, she would never have been able to dress that evening that Lelia had practically pulled her together turned impulsively impul-sively and kissed the other girl on the cheek. "Thank you, Lelia. You've been sweet to me tonight You're always sweet to me." Linnie Cotswell, looking handsome in a trailing gown of maroon-colored lace, appeared in the doorway "Ready, Mary? Why, my dear, you're a dream! I didn't know my family tree could produce such royal roy-al fruit!" Mary never quite knew how she managed to get through the hours that followed It was like a hectic nightmare a nightmare made up of spacious, flower-filled rooms in Jerome Taylor's penthouse; of Jerome Je-rome Taylor himself, faultless in black and white, a gardenia in his lapel; always at her side, always looking at her with admiring eyes. Dancing with Jerome Taylor to the tune of "September in the Rain," and thoughts of Chris! A constant pain in her heart a lump in her throat that could not be swallowed, and thoughts, unforgettable thoughts, of Christopher Cragg! (TO BE CONTINUED) |
