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Show wYAas. Harry Pugh SxTiiN . INSTALLMENT TWO The Story So Far ".auueen maguire li helping her mother moth-er with a dinner to be given that night tor th Newiums, whose ion Jaird. Is engaged rb Shirley, Kathleen's sister. m a Kathleen had Just returned from a trip for wild flowers to save a florist's bill. The rear tire of the old car had gone flat, and a strange young man helped her fix It Like her father, Mike, he was a happy-go-lucky newspaper man. His assurance Irritates her. He seems amused and kisses her. But you can hang this in Laura's closet if you will." "Surely." Shirley was employing a subterfuge subter-fuge to be alone and Kathleen knew it. But she obediently trotted across the hall and she took her time about the errand. When she returned, Shirley had bathed her face and powdered pow-dered her telltale eyelids and was curled up on the foot of the bed, manicuring her finger nails as If she had nothing on her mind but the last development in liquid polish. "Mother thinks you ought to take a cat nap," suggested Kathleen, digging dig-ging out her red evening sandals which needed cleaning. "I'm not sleepy," said Shirley. Kathleen bent over her task. She didn't want Shirley to think she was tampering with things which did not concern her. But the trouble was Shirley hadn't been sleeping nights either. Kathleen had not told anyone, any-one, not even Laura how often Shirley Shir-ley rolled and tossed or slipped out of bed to sit in the window and smoke a cigarette. Maybe she thought Kathleen did not know. She always lay perfectly still and said nothing. But Kathleen knew. And it had her a little ragged. Shirley just did not deserve the break she was getting. Kathleen was beginning to think that fate takes a special delight in being ma- stone laughed when it caught her eye. But she brought herself up sharply. She simply must not indulge in-dulge in morbid fancies. It was unhealthy, un-healthy, almost indecent. It came from solitary brooding. If only she could break through the cell of her reserve! But Shirley could not produce pro-duce the skeletons from her mental closet for the inspection of others. "The table looks spiffy," observed Kathleen, from the floor. "Honestly, isn't Mother a genius at making any old thing do in a rub? I don't believe be-lieve even Kitty-Cat Newsum can find a thing to sniff at" Shirley flushed faintly. Kathleen eyed her from under lowered lashes. She knew quite well that Shirley would never have applied such an epithet to the lady in question. Although Al-though Shirley had more reason to resent Jaird' s mother than had any other person on earth. If Shirley's dreams did not perish of dry rot it would be through no fault of Mrs. Blake Newsum. "Give Mother two hours and a bunch of wild flowers and she could entertain the Duke of Windsor in a style he'd love," said Shirley. "Sure, and she'd have time left over to remind Mike to wash the printers' ink oft" his paws before he shook hands with the Duke," chortled chor-tled Kathleen. Shirley smiled. "Mike will never grow up." "Not so long as he can get by without it," said Kathleen, frowning. frown-ing. Shirley glanced at her quickly. There had been a note in her sister's voice Shirley had never heard Kathleen Kath-leen apply to their father. In their several ways all his children adored Michael Maguire. But It was no secret that he had always been Kathleen's special god. As a child she had been ready to battle anyone who dared intimate that anything or r if if CHAPTER n Continued Kathleen's eyes smarted. It seemed to the girl such rank injustice in-justice that Laura should have to patch and glue and nail things together to-gether to make them do. It wasn't as if she had been born to makeshifts. make-shifts. She had grown up in considerable con-siderable luxury. But she had had precious little of it since her marriage, mar-riage, especlaDy the last few years. It had never worried Kathleen until un-til lately. All the things her mother did without But somehow in the past few months it had become a sore spot in the girl's consciousness. She supposed she was growing up. If so, it was a harrowing process. One that was shaking her foundations pretty badly. She said nothing. It hurt to criticize her father. She had always been his favorite. And he had been her particular, shining hero. he-ro. Just of late had she begun to think he could have flaws. She was essentially a fiercely loyal young person. per-son. It made her feel dreadfully let down' to be considering Mike with resentment. She didn't want to. She most terribly didn't want to. And yet "I saw Mrs. Mays this afternoon," "Yes?" murmured Laura. She was arranging the irises in a graceful low white Wedgewood bowl which would stand on a mirror in the center of the table. "Her limousine almost crowded me into the curb outside Jenson's. Her chauffeur was bringing out a box of hothouse flowers. A box as long as a hearse. Is she entertaining entertain-ing tonight?" "Yes, didn't you hear? Mrs. New-sum New-sum said they'd have to leave before be-fore nine for quotation marks a little intimate bridge at Mrs. Mays'." "Aren't you invited?" "I'm not exactly intimate with that crowd any more." "Because you haven't the money to keep up with Lizzie?" Laura shrugged her shoulders. Kathleen studied her with narrowed eyes. She wished she knew whether her mother really did not mind missing miss-ing out with old friends. "Mrs. Mays has never quite forgiven for-given you, Laura, because she'd never nev-er have got Eugene Mays if you hadn't given him the air." It was common knowledge that Laura Maguire could have been Mrs. Eugene Mays had she liked. She had indeed had considerable trouble eluding the banker in favor of Michael Maguire. And Mays had been the catch of the town. He still was Covington's richest man. His big, three-storied house was a show place, set in stately grounds. His wife never had to darn tablecloths table-cloths or make over last year's hats. Again Kathleen scrutinized her mother's averted face. Did Laura ever think she had made a mistake? Would she do it the same way a second time if she had the choice? Kathleen's throat ached. Her mother had rejected Eugene Mays and real pearls and an impressive home and servants and a new car every year and trips to New York because she was in love with a charming Irishman. Up to six months ago it had never occurred oc-curred to Kathleen that Laura had paid high for love. Or that she might regret her bargain. Somehow Kathleen Kath-leen had taken it for granted that her mother was thrilled to death to be poor and shabby and overworked. But was she? Or did she feel that love and life and Michael Maguire had cheated her? Kathleen shivered. Her mother had thrown the world over for romance. ro-mance. Yet it appeared to Kathleen Kath-leen that somewhere on the road Laura had been defrauded. Because there was nothing very romantic about darning Mike's socks and fishing fish-ing his dirty shirts out from behind the clothes hamper where he invariably in-variably threw them. "If you ask me," said Kathleen Maguire outside her sister's door, "this love racket looks more like a skin game than anything else. You get a few mad thrills maybe. But you pay for them by taking it on the chin the rest of your life." And in her heart she had a panicky pan-icky feeling tnat her mother must iong ago have reached the same conclusion con-clusion although she was too game to wWne. CHAPTER III 6hirley Maguire snapped off the electric iron as her sister entered. "Oh, hullo, Kath," she said, becoming be-coming suddenly very busy with one of the ruffles on Laura's ecru organdy or-gandy frock. But although she averted her face, Kathleen could see Shirley's violet eyes in the mirror over the dressing dress-ing table and they were blurred. "Let me finish, Sis. You look tired to death." Kathleen elaborately pretended that it was merely , fatigue and toe htat which had drawn shadows on Shirley's delicate cheeks. The Ma-guires Ma-guires had been brought up to respect re-spect each other's reticences. And so Kathleen did not refer to any tears Shirley might have been shedding shed-ding And neither did Shirley. I've all finished. Kath, thanks. about Mike could be improved. No longer ago than six months Kathleen had threatened to box Fatty Bonner's Bon-ner's ears for saying on the stump that Maguire didn't deserve to be elected mayor of Covington for the tenth time because he was no howling howl-ing success at handling his private business, so why entrust him with running the city? It was a bit of a family joke, Mike's being lord mayor of Covington. Coving-ton. The office paid next to nothing, In fact Mike never broke even on the deal. His salary failed completely complete-ly to equal what he laid out on entertaining en-tertaining visiting celebrities who invariably in-variably called on His Honor when in town and expected to be wined and dined. To say nothing of the parades and the conventions &nd the charity drives to which Mike was supposed to lend his moral and financial support. The city budget appropriated all it could stand for such eventualities. But by November of every year, the fund was depleted. From that point Mike was on his own. Many a time His Honor was reduced to the expedient of opening the Community Fund Ball on the proceeds of a pawned watch and chain. To be redeemed when city taxes were paid. Secretly, although he made comical comi-cal remarks about it, Mike adored being mayor of Covington. He liked to preside at banquets and throw out the first ball at the opening of the baseball season. He got a great kick out of securing the new civic auditorium by a determined drive on, the purses of bankers and politicians poli-ticians and the like. He was as pleased as a small boy with a little lit-tle red drum over the modest but complete municipal hospital for which he had schemed for years. He admitted it might be a luxury, but he wouldn't have traded jobs with any ruling nabob. And although he had determined opposition from the political machine, Mike went on being elected year after year. The people had an indestructible faith in his integrity. Other mayors had waxed rich. By distinctly unscrupulous unscrupu-lous methods. Mike lost money every ev-ery time he was sworn in. His children teased him about being be-ing a big hoptoad in a very insignificant insig-nificant puddle. But deep down within, with-in, none of the Maguires thought it funny to be lord mayor of Covington. Coving-ton. They might wisecrack about it among themselves, but they were quick to defend Mike from an outsider's out-sider's aspersion. Kathleen had always al-ways been especially sensitive to any unflattering criticism of their father. fa-ther. And yet today Shirley for the first time had detected a bitter note in Kathleen's reference to Mike. But at her glance Kathleen sidestepped the issue. She might in her own mind have reached the stage where she was uncertain about values which she had accepted wholeheartedly wholeheart-edly all her life, but she could not bring herself to bare her slipping loyalties even to Shirley. So Kathleen Kath-leen changed the subject with an evasiveness which reminded Shirley of herself. "Did you know the Newsums ar leaving at nine? To bridge at Mrs. Mays'?" Again Shirley reddened slightly. "Yes." (TO BE COMIMED Shirley was employing a subterfuge subter-fuge and Kathleen knew it. licious to the wrong people. She could think of a number of girls it would be a pleasure to see knocked off their pedestals. But Shirley was not one of them. Kathleen admitted admit-ted she was partial. All her life she had secretly thought that Shirley Shir-ley was a bit of all right. Probably because she was four years older.' Perhaps because they were so different dif-ferent in looks and in temperament. Kathleen was pretty and vivacious. viva-cious. She looked "slick," to quote herself, in snappy clothes. She could wear extreme haircuts and get by with impudence and a general air of being more hard-boiled than she was. But Shirley was beautiful. Really beautifuL She had wide, smoke-blue eyes and radiant gold-brown gold-brown hair and the loveliest cream and rose skin and exquisite hands and feet. She looked just as pretty in a bungalow apron as in an evening eve-ning gown. And Shirley was quite as beautiful beauti-ful within as without. She had high standards and she did not betray them. She was never petty nor malicious ma-licious nor envious nor capricious. If Shirley had wild ugly impulses, she mastered them in secret. They never cluttered up the neighborhood. Kathleen passionately coveted Shirley's Shir-ley's ability to put her soul through its paces without an outward ripple. Shirley was proud and disciplined and reserved and self -controlled. She kept her emotions firmly under lock and key, as if they were dangerous explosives. Kathleen, sitting flat on the floor with cleaning fluid and a rag, vigorously vig-orously massaged the heel of a frivolous friv-olous red slipper and wished she were as thoroughly the master of her frailties as her sister. But watching the dimple come and go in the younger girl's vivid, mercurial face, Shirley Maguire knew with bitterness bit-terness that her capacity for silent anguish was the point of her grave peril. Far better, she thought, to be able to boil over like Kathleen than to keep agonies corked up in your heart. To poison and ferment. The diamond on Shirley's slender white hand winked at her mockingly mocking-ly as she filed her ring finger. Shirley Shir-ley had a strange feeling that the |