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Show KATHLEEN N ORRIS This 'Engagement' Is Too Long . "TITHAT WOULD YOU DO with a daughter ' like mine?" writes Georgianna White from a small Oklahoma town. "June will be 24 in January, she is an intelligent intel-ligent girl, took a fine job after two years in business college, is handsome, hand-some, tall, popular, plays tennis and is a well-trained housekeeper and cook this last through chance rather than any plan of mine. "When she was 18, - June met a quiet, decent, slow boy I will call Bill. Her brother first brought Bill to the house and June soon began going 'steady' with him both of them then in business college. Bill flunked out and has since held jobs briefly as car salesman, oil-station oil-station attendant, soda-fountain clerk, hotel night-desk man. He and June have been constantly in each other's company for nearly six years. "During this time my good husband hus-band died, and I resumed my wartime war-time job as schoolteacher. This gave June an excuse for giving up her own good job and taking over housekeeping for myself and her brother. Completely Infatuated "My boy is a doctor with his office of-fice right in the home. June and he lunch together, we all dine together, togeth-er, and I must say that she maintains main-tains a perfect home for us. But Bill, who has no job now, actually orated hero there would be some understanding of it, but such a man would sweep her off her feet into marriage in a matter of weeks. Bill, sensing instinctively that once removed from his protecting mother, easy pocket money and generally profitless existence, he would be exposed for the weakling he is, calmly declines a matrimonial matrimon-ial entanglement. June's eyes would be opened to her own foolishness fool-ishness before the honeymoon was over, but even that situation would seem to me preferable to this. It might make a woman of her, whether or not it made a man of him. Some women marry these weaklings weak-lings by sheer force of superior will. One case that came to my notice no-tice some years ago in my own town, found the bride triumphant at the church at the vedding hour and tne groom in tears. This particular bride is now the head of a busy Hollywood shop; her husband, still handsome, still idle, has arranged that she deposit his pocket money at the bank. Child wives used to be popular in fiction a century ago. David Copperfield's soft little helpless Dora, and Miss L-arey's "Wis Wifie"; the dear little helples-creatures helples-creatures were always raising tear-laden blCie eyes in appeals for help, to big strong mates. Nowadays Now-adays it is amazing how often the situation is reversed and the gray mare is the better horse. Perhaps if you, Georgianna, and her brother can hurry June into this marriage by congratulating them on their engagement, however how-ever prematurely, givine it to the social column, talking wedding plans, finding rooms for the first home or better yet, moving them right in on Bill and his mother you will wake June up. Such arrangements ar-rangements have worked, and more than once. Meanwhile, what a pity to have her stubbornness and his weakness destroy these years of youth and friendships! . . telephoning her every hour . . is at the house nearly every day or telephoning her every hour. She appears as completely infatuated as she was at 18. "Her brother and I are satisfied that there is nothing wrong in this relationhip, partly because Bill is so cool an admirer. He takes her affection for granted, borrows small sums from her she has saved some bonds goes to movies with her, meets friends at the drugstore counter, and often takes her to church. His mother infuriates infur-iates me by telling me occasionally that June is such a 'safe' friend for her adored Bill. "June has, of course, lost all her other friends," the distressed mother moth-er continues. "In every other way sweet, amusing and natural, her mouth shuts tight when we mention Bill. We all dislike him, as spoiled, lazy and irresponsible at 27, but June sees in him only her first love. Why Don't They Marry? "Why don't they marry? I wish they would. June's small savings woud soon be gone, and probably both of them would be forced to be realistic. But if ever Bill does respond re-spond to her ardent hints about a home together someday, it is merely mere-ly to say grandly 'Not until I can take care of my wife without appealing ap-pealing to her family or mine.' "Now what can we do?" this letter let-ter ends. "June is too old to be sent away. My son has twice told Bill pretty plainly, in the past year, that we don't like the situation. Bill explains amiably enough that he has a good job in mind, and June angrily resents interference. Can you advise us?" No, my dear Georgianna, I can't. A girl's infatuation for a man of this negative, seemingly undeveloped type is always a mystery. mys-tery. If Bill were a gallant dec- |
