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Show synopsis Victoria Hcrremlcen. ft vlv.u'lous Utile girl, had U-t-n Uh young to fcol ttie shock that came when her father. Keith Iterreiuteen. lost hia fortune. A pentle, unobtrusive soul, he is now employed as an obscure chemist In San Francisco, at a meaner salary. Ihs wife. Mafida. cannot adjust herself to the change. She Is a beautiful woman. fond of pleasure and a niae.net for men's attention. Matda and Victoria have been down at a summer resort and Keith Joins them for the week-end. Masda leaves for a bridge party, excusing herself for be-Ins be-Ins such a "runaway." The Herrendeens return to their small San Francisco apartment. Keith does not approve of Mazda's triad social life and they quar-rell quar-rell frequently. Magda receives flowers from a wealthy man from Argentina whom she had met less than a week before. Manners arrives a few hours later. Magda takes Victoria to Nevada to visit a woman friend who has a daughter named Catherine. There she tells her she is going to get a divorce. Victoria soon is tn boarding school with her friend C?:herir.e. Magda marries Manners Man-ners ani they spend two years In Argentina. Argen-tina. Victoria has studied tn Europe and at eighteen she visits her mother w.en Fercy rents a beautiful home. .agda is unhappy over Ferdy's drinking drink-ing and attentions to other women. Vic dislikes him. When her mother and stepfather step-father return to Soulh America. Victoria refuses to go with tliem because of Fer-dys Fer-dys unweicome attentions to her. Magda returns and te!":s Vic she and Feruy have separated. Meanwhile Keith has remarried. Victoria is now a student stu-dent nurse. Magda has fallen In love with Lucius Farmer, a married artist. While she and Vic prepare for a trip to Europe. Ferdy takes a suite In their hotel. The night before Magda and Vic are to sail. Magda elopes with Lucius Farmer. While nursing the children chil-dren of Dr. and Mrs. Ke3ts. Vic meets Dr. Quentin Hardisty. a brilliant physician, physi-cian, much sought after by women, who is a widower with a crippled daughter. daugh-ter. In a tete-a-tete at the Keats home, he kisses Vic. Several days later he invites her with other guests to spend a week-end at his cabin, CHAPTER V Continued Five o'clock came. Six o'clock came. "Nervous, huh?" Quentin Hardisty Har-disty asked, looking up. "Not very," the girl smiled, flushing. flush-ing. "Why at all?" "Well, then, not nervous at all!" Vic said, laughing. "But there is something fundamentally disturbing disturb-ing about being shut up in a lone mountain cabin with a handsome and fascinating man," she reminded re-minded him. "Listen, why do you rub in that fascinating, handsome stuff? That's the third time." 'Tne second, I think." "I've seen you," the man insisted, insist-ed, "when you were nothing short of well, there's only one word for it, beautiful" "Thank you. Seriously, there aren't miny real beauties, and the few I've known have had a vile time!" "Well, coming back to first principles," prin-ciples," Dr. Hardisty said, "don't worry about the Uphams; they'll get here. And if they didn't, I assure you that you'd be as safe as my own sister." The girl looked across at him, handsome and brown, and quite serious, se-rious, in the soft fire and lamplight, and her heart gave an odd twist, a physical plunge of emotion. Her throat thickened suddenly, and she felt silly and confused. But she gave no sign of it, and before either she or her host spoke again the Uphams Up-hams arrived, in a gay flurry of apologies, and after that everything was smooth sailing. The two women were relegated to the south alcove, drew their curtain, cur-tain, and proceeded with their unpacking un-packing and changing to a lively exchange of gossip. Dora was going go-ing to have a baby in six months; nobody knew it but Chase, but they were tremendously excited. Vic was all sympathetic enthusiasm here. There might be some question ques-tion in her heart and mind as to wifehood, but motherhood was all joy. "Oh, Dora, I envy you!" "I'm terribly happy about it." "Isn't this fun. Being over here together, and just ourselves!" "I adore this shack. We had our honeymoon here. And isn't he a darling? Vic listen " Dora paused. "Oh, shut up!" Vic said, denying deny-ing the impeachment before it was voiced. , "No, but listen, don't you think he's darling?" "Dr. Hardisty? Yes, I do." "If he liked you?" "There isn't the slightest chance of it, even if you continue to broadcast broad-cast your romantic suspicions all over Mill Valley!" Vic began. Dora sank her voice to a whisper. "Just the same They can't hear, their shower's going," Dora said. "Just the same you'd be an awful fool not to marry him if you could, Vic." "I'll never marry anyone," Vic aid, putting on a blue apron, "un- l til I'm foaming at the mouth about him. And I'll never foam nt the mouth about anyone, for before I roach that point, I'll take my little throat indoors and cut it. So don't worry about me!" Trimly equipped, they went out to the kitchen, where the younger doctor was mixing something liquid liq-uid in a small pail, and the older one busy witli a salad. They all worked together, getting In each other's way, getting more and more hungry as the clock's hands slipped from half-past six to seven, from seven to eight. The boy carried the steaks into the shed, where they were to broil on a charcoal char-coal fire. Victoria sampled the salad on a bit of cracker. "That," she said firmly, "is the most delicious salad I ever tasted!" It was a long and delightful meal. Presently they carried their cups to the fire, and Mock Suey cleared away the table, and still nobody made a move to go to bed, and the logs burned on, and the level branches of the redwoods swept across the low roof In the restless wind of the spring night. "You girls going to freeze?" "Believe me, we have our hot-water hot-water bottles," Dora said firmly. Victoria, raising her eyes with a sleepy smile, met Quentin Hardis-ty's Hardis-ty's steady look, and was disturbed to feel herself flushing. But when she and Dora finally did drag themselves them-selves off to the raised platform where their beds were, and had drawn the canvas curtain against the warm sitting room and the fire, she was conscious of a sort of dancing excitement in her veins. This was all such fun! There was a rattle at the curtain rings. Victoria put her head through them and found Quentin Hardisty standing close to her at the other side. Victoria's hair had been gathered to the top of her head in a mass of careless, tawny curls; her young face was rosy from heroic washing with scented soap, her eyes danced. "Here are two extra things," the doctor said a little confusedly. "They're stone hot-water bottles; some people like 'em. Anyway, they'll keep hot until morning." "Oh, God bless you, mister!" Victoria Vic-toria said, the curtains parting as she put out her arms to show her slim body in square, blue-striped pajamas open at the soft young throat. "You look like a doll!" the man said in a whisper. Victoria stood still, her throat suddenly sud-denly thick. She smiled at him confusedly. "You're lovely!" Quentin said. He laid his hand on her arm. "Goodnight!" "Good-night!" he said, and somehow the "And Isn't He a Darling?" familiar little word was not a farewell. fare-well. It was everything quivering, thrilling, amazing, breath-taking. Hardly knowing what she did, carried car-ried away from her moorings by an impulse thousands of years older than she was, Victoria stooped a little from her higher position, rested her face against his for one second of madness and vertigo, and breathed an answering "Goodnight!" "Good-night!" But in the morning she forgot everything except that a new delicious deli-cious day had dawned and had brought complete happiness with it. Everyone was in wild spirits on this singing spring morning. "How about a walk?" Quentin said then. The Uphams declined. Chase was sleepy, and Dora tired. But Victoria, in an old, short skirt, a white cap, an enveloping borrowed sweater of Quentin's, was all ready for it. She and her host went ofl together for one of llfu'i happy hours. Tliey climbed Mnilght up the Ureal eliouliler of the mountain; "topped, punting mid Mushed, to get their breath and to look down on the sparkling world; went on again. The sun was hut on the singing blue February morning, but the ground under their feet, especially when the trail went into the woods, was soaked and slippery from recent re-cent rains. Quentin gave her his hand; she slid against him; they both laughed. flenching the summit of the spur with the dark blue rise of Tanialpals high above them, they sat upon a sun-warmed rock for a while, looking look-ing down, breathing In the aromatic sweetness of the still, clear nlr, listening list-ening to the cries of larks all about and the occnslonal scream of a Jay or chatter of a chipmunk in the chaparral. When they started to slip and slide down, the going was Infinitely easier, especially with the tree-smothered tree-smothered brown goal of the cabin roof right ahead. Vicky and Quentin Quen-tin came back to the cabin at one o'clock, breathless, ravenous and weary. Once again the quartette that gathered about the table was In gala mood. More than once again Victoria told herself that this was one of the good days, tills was one of the satisfying times! But just after the leisurely meal there was an interruption. A car came up the circuitous bit of roadway road-way to the porch with the speed of familiarity. Quentin's expression of horrified expectation, at which Victoria Vic-toria had been laughing, changed to one of odd embarrassment, of something some-thing like faint annoyance like gratification. "It's Marian, It's Mrs. Pool," he had time to say under his breath before he went out to welcome her. "Oh, help!" Dora commented, disgustedly. Victoria said nothing. But the glory, the content of the day instantly were destroyed. It was with a sense of dullness, a vague feeling of hurt that she entered upon the requisite moving of chairs and shifting of places to make room for the newcomer. Marian Pool, lovely in the smartest of sportwear, came into the room with a rush and stood with her head tipped a little on one side, apologetically smiling at them all. "Oh, you're having a party! Oh, how shameless of me!" she said. "But why on earth are you eating at half -past four o'clock? Sit down, everyone do sit down, Dr. Upham here, everyone sit down!" They all sat down, and Victoria saw the expression on Quentin Har-disty's Har-disty's face. He saw nothing but Marian. "We're all driving up for supper at Maud's," the newcomer said. "I've dropped Sally and George In the village to see the Cushings. It occurred to me that Quentin here had entirely forgotten that he promised prom-ised to be at Maud's, and I told them I'd come up and get him. It's the golf thing, Quentin, and afterward after-ward a big supper at Pete's." "Sure; I hadn't forgotten," Quentin Quen-tin said, in a lazy, smiling voice. His eyes caressed her. "You did tell me you had a house party!" "We didn't know it ranked as a house party, did we, Dora?" "I beg pardon? ' Dora stammered, stam-mered, starting. "You don't remember me, Mrs. Pool?" Victoria said, in the dreadful dread-ful moment of silence when everyone every-one stirred and smiled, but no one had anything to say. "Victoria Her-rendeen Her-rendeen down at the lodge, years ago?" "Oh, frightful, don't remind me of those ghastly days," Mrs. Pool said lightly, her eyes on Quentin. "That was before, all blushes and confusion, I got my divorce! I cried all day, when I was first married, and danced all night when I got my divorce. I mean I reaDy did, Quen." The" dullness, the wearisome stu-pidness stu-pidness of it all deepened. Vic, from the moment her eyes had first fallen upon the visitor, had known that it would. "She is beautiful perfectly beautiful," beau-tiful," Victoria said to Dora, when they were gathering brushes and jars in the bathroom. "I don't see it," Dora answered stubbornly, and Victoria laughed without much mirth. To deny Marian's Mar-ian's flawless and amazing beauty would be to deny the mystery of the stars, the glory of an apple orchard in the spring. It worked upon men like an irresistible anesthetic. Vicky and the Uphams were swift and brief in their farewells. The girl admitted she was tired; the day's happiness; cooking, tramping, making fires had not tired her, but there was no shred of the felicity left, and she felt jaded and weary. The Mill Valley visit had ended in hurt and failure. The drive home was dull and flat, and the atmosphere of the Keats nursery, when Victoria entered it, somehow jarred on her nerves. "Violet," she said, some days later, lat-er, when she and Mrs. Keats were lunching together, "did Dr. Keats talk to you about my going to Honolulu?" Hono-lulu?" "You mean Miss Reynolds' recommending rec-ommending you for it?" "It's definite now. I've a letter here from Dr. Bert about it." A cloud came over the older woman's wom-an's face. "Vicky, I'd be so sorry to see you go!" "Why would you, Vi?" "Well, for the obvious reasons, of course," the cultured English voice said. "Because Mother depends so on you, and we all do! But it isn't only Unit I'm thinking of you. (!li'ln do get so entirely out of touch In those places. I know It. My father fa-ther was ut Barbados when I was a girl; It's much the same thing. The life gets one; It's eatiy, Insular, unambitious. un-ambitious. Afler a bit you're telling tell-ing visitors that you've boon there ten years, fifteen years. In a few years there's no out." "VI, I'm going away on account of Quentin Hardisty," Victoria said. Mrs. Keats was standing besldo her at the window; they did not look nt each other; there was a silence. "I've got to get -away before I make a complete fool of myself before ho knows," Victoria presently pres-ently added. "You mean you you like him?" Violet Keats said In a stunned voice. "I guess that about expresses it," Victoria said, with n brief laugh. The thing happened quite simply about ten days later. Victoria had ttiken Kate down to Dr. Ilardlsty's olllces to have one of the younger men there look nt a small sprained elbow. He stood looking thoughtfully thought-fully at Vic and the child for a fp! ! - .- m "You Mean Without Loving Me?" Victoria Asked. long minute, finally ashed her, In almost an absent voice, if she would see him In his own office before she went away. Vic found her way to this guarded and Inaccessible sanctum made strangely easy. Kate had a wrapped molasses peppermint to console her for recent indignities, and Vic sat earnest and pretty in her new spring clothes, looking in puzzled expectancy expec-tancy at the doctor. "I want to talk for a few minutes, and then you talk," Quentin began. He drew four firm parallel lines In pencil on a scrap of paper, looking at them, crumpled the paper and threw it aside. "I thought you said the other night that you were lonesome, that you were thinking of going to Honolulu because you were lonesome?" "I said it to Vi," Vic admitted, after a moment Her heart thumped. "Why do you say that you said it to Vi in that funny way?" "I didn't know I said it in a funny way. I suppose I meant that I didn't say it to you." There was a pause, after which the man recommenced: "The thing is " He hesitated. "The thing is that I want a home," he said. "I want my little girl with me. I told Violet about it and asked her if she thought you'd take the job. She said did she tell you this?" "She didn't tell me anything." "Well, she said, 'D'you mean as a nurse and housekeeper, or as a wife?' I said, 'Well, if you put it that way, as a wife!' D'you get what I mean?" he finished. "I had been saying 'housekeeper,' but maybe what. I meant all along was wife." He sat back. "I see," Victoria mused, not moving mov-ing her eyes from his. Color came into her face and receded again and they both laughed nervously. "And and, thank you!" she said then, a little confusedly. "I need a wife, badly," the man presently added. "Everyone knows that Violet and John, everyone, i You're the kind of woman I want to marry, I admire you tremendously. tremendous-ly. I I like you very much." "You mean without loving me?" ' Victoria asked. j "I thought I thought that was ' how you wanted it to be," the man , said, simply. I Victoria looked at him thoughtfully, thoughtful-ly, her breath uneven, her face scarlet. "Here's the thing," Quentin said, as she did not speak. "I'd be awfully aw-fully proud if you'd do it, really I would. If you won't I'm going to get out for a while I'll go to Germany. Ger-many. But I'd much rather not get out, on account of Gwen, and my hospital work everything. What do you say?" (TO BE CONTINUED) |