OCR Text |
Show INSTALLMENT FIVE The Story So Far Kathleen Magulre Is peeved. Her mother Is giving a dinner for the New-urns, New-urns, whose son Jaird. Is engaged to Shirley, her sister. Mrs. Newsum. however, how-ever, would like him to marry Connie Mays, daughter of the town's richest man. Kathleen had been kissed by a young stranger who fixed a flat tire for her. He Is a newspaper man out of a Job. Her father is a happy-go-lucky editor and mayor of Covington. Tom, her brother, and his wife. Mary Etta. and the Newsums arrive. Another brother. broth-er. Alec, out of a Job because of the depression, phones he won't come. Then, to cap the climax, the father brings the stranger, Ritchie Graham to the dinner. Kathleen is annoyed. ' newspaper assignment I had? The one that made me finally decide to cut all holds. They wanted me, me as had thought I was a red-blood, red-blood, he-man's reporter, to go out to a society horse show and report on the sort of riding breeches the local debutantes were wearing. Riding Rid-ing breeches! I ask you. Especially Especial-ly those belonging to the knock-kneed knock-kneed daughter of the local beer baron. bar-on. He spends a million a year advertising. ad-vertising. Get the picture? I wrote up the damned show. And I put in the beer baron's daughter, knock-knees knock-knees and all. And I slipped it by the city editor's desk and got it printed just the way I wrote it. I called her the Pretzel-legged Princess Prin-cess of Suda. And then I jumped town before the earthquake." Mike roared. It was exactly the sort of thing he might have done. Mike's laughter was always contagious. conta-gious. Everybody shared in his mirth. Everybody but Kathleen. She surveyed the young man beside her with disdainful eyes that were as red-brown as her rebellious curls. "And so now you're touring the wide open spaces where a man can CHAPTER VI Continued "Father's here," Kathleen whispered whis-pered to her" mother. "And hang on for dear life he brought a guest." Laura looked as if she were going to faint, so Kathleen added hastily. "But it's not so bad as it sounds. Alec isn't coming to dinner. He got caught with a Bat tire or something and can't make it." Laura did not say a word. But it seemed to Kathleen that for a moment mo-ment her mother's face looked stricken. It was too bad of Alec. Kathleen's hands itched to get at her ) brother. She hadn't been sure that Laura knew how he was wasting his time. But mothers have an instinct. in-stinct. At least Laura had. "Hello, everybody." Mike stood on the threshold. He had changed into the white linen suit Laura had laid out for him and he looked as exuberant as a cowboy at his first rodeo. Kathleen was torn between resentment and admiration at the way he captured the citadel without even trying. No one could resist Mike's charm when it was hitting on all twelve cylinders. He flattered Belle Newsum until her pudgy face lost its dour look. He gave Laura a grin that chased the little pucker which Alec had left between her eyes. He told Tom that business was undoubtedly on the upswing and for the first time Tom's thin brown face lost its strained grimace. Even Mary Etta's bristles relaxed when Mike assured her that she looked more like a black and white etching than ever. He slipped his arm around Shirley while he talked to Jaird, and Shirley leaned against her father gratefully as if she needed steadying. He complimented com-plimented Blake Newsum on being one of the few men who had known when to come in out of the economic rain. Furious as she was with him, Kathleen had to grin at the way Mike simply wound them all up and made them dance to his tune. "Isn't he priceless?" whispered Laura. Kathleen nodded helplessly. Mike regarded her with a cocked eyebrow. He was perfectly well aware-of her displeasure. But he also felt entirely equal to it. Kathleen Kath-leen never had been able to nurse a grievance against her father, and he knew it. Nevertheless she did not return the debonair grin with which he approached her. "Still sore, Kits?" She looked away because it was difficult to glower when Mike didn't want you to. "Yes," she said shortly. He chuckled. "He's a little bit of all right, that Graham." "Says you!" snapped Kathleen, glaring across the room where Tom and Ritchie were enthusiastically condemning any big city as the most awful place on earth to live, while Mary Etta looked scornful. "Personally," she observed, "I'd rather die of frazzled nerves from traffic jams than rust to death in a poky country town." "Yes," said Tom, "you would. You and nine hundred thousand other oth-er speed and jazz maniacs." Ritchie glanced from one to the other. "I could bear it if I never heard another street car," he admitted. ad-mitted. "But then I just happen to prefer crickets to night club crooners. croon-ers. And I'm fed up with being elbowed. el-bowed. I'd even like to watch the moon rise once without being told by some flat-footed policeman to step on it." And then Hulda announced that dinner was served. And Mike presented pre-sented his arm to Mrs. Newsum with a flourish that brought a pleased simper to her pursed mouth. Kathleen realized that she was practically prac-tically forced on Ritchie Graham for a dinner partner. He had until then ignored her. And even after they were seated at the table he continued contin-ued his heated argument with Mary Etta. Kathleen had been prepared to squelch him the moment he opened his mouth. But it was a little lit-tle unsettling when he appeared to have forgotten her existence. She talked elaborately to Blake Newsum and fumed inwardly and wished she were less naggingly aware of the arrogant black head of the man to her left It didn't help her temper any that the rest obviously obvi-ously found him attractive. Even (Laura smiled when he told about being ordered to move on by a dumb traffic cop the day he stopped in St. Louis to view the Sphinx on the top of the civil courts building which he bad driven four hundred miles to gee. "I tell you," he insisted, "the big city is death to individuality or initiative. ini-tiative. Kids grow up warned to keep off the grass, forbidden to touch the flowers in the park, herded like cattle in pens on the way to the slaughterhouse. And at twenty or younger they develop into first class gangsters and thugs. My God, how can they help it?" "Sixteen years ago," said Mike, "I told the editor of a Chicago newspaper news-paper he could take his old job and jump into the lake with it because be-cause I was done with being pulled about like a monkey on a chain." Ritchie gave him a frankly envious envi-ous glance. "Do you know the last . eyes and something new In the curve of her mouth. Something shy and uncertain of itself. Laura's heart gave an odd knock. And she leaned a little forward for a better view of. the young man whom Mike had brought to dinner. At first Laura had been inclined to think him too handsome, if anything. any-thing. It had not been her experience experi-ence that beauty in the male is always al-ways an asset. But on closer inspection in-spection she decided that Ritchie Graham did not take his good looks very seriously. He had a trick of drawing down the corners of his wide mouth in a derisive grin which no man ever acquired from practice prac-tice before a mirror. Sfce suspected he was vainer of his principles than of his disturbing gray eyes. But they were disturbing. Laura glanced again at Kathleen. It came to the mother with a pang that her baby was growing up. "It's only that she's so vulnerable," vulnera-ble," Laura excused herself. Such an intense, inflammable, impulsive im-pulsive young thing. So completely at the mercy of her emotions. "You work, don't you, Mrs. Ma-guire?" Ma-guire?" Laura came to herself with a start. Belle Newsum had flung the question at Mary Etta with a supercilious super-cilious smile. Laura suppressed a groan. It was like Belle Newsum to discover something to be hoily toity about, Tom went a little white. But Mary Etta accepted the challenge chal-lenge with enthusiasm. She always carried a chip on her shoulder and welcomed any opportunity to defend it "Yes, Mrs. Newsum," she said in her clear, high-strung voice, "I'm one of these working wives you hear so much about. My mother thought a woman's place was in the home. So she bore five children and washed and cooked and scrubbed and died at thirty-one because she was too tired to go on. living. And my father fa-ther married again, a young woman who hated us kids. So he let her push us out to take care of ourselves our-selves as soon as possible. I made up my mind then I'd never be submerged sub-merged by any man." Tom stared fixedly at his plate. "Of course," bridled Mrs. New-sum, New-sum, "I've always said a man has no right to a wife he cannot afford." af-ford." She looked at Jaird, who was gazing gaz-ing at Shirley. But Shirley's lovely reserved face did not change in expression. ex-pression. Tom was looking at Mary Etta almost as if he hated her. Good heavens, thought Laura with a cori stricted heart, they mustn't say things like that to each other. Words leave wounds. Wounds which Laura feared neither of them would ever get over. "I can understand a woman demanding de-manding more out of life than just a share in some man's possible failure," fail-ure," put in Jaird suddenly. He smiled wryly. "I guess we men have a crust to expect women to hang around the edges of things, waiting for a guy who will probably in the end turn out to be just another an-other crumb." His mother gave him a fond smile. "Darling," she said indulgently, "if you are referring to the fact you haven't as yet made any startling progress toward a future, you must remember how young you are." Jaird's clean-cut profile sharpened and his blue eyes looked a little haggard. hag-gard. "I'm old enough to hate being be-ing wetnursed," he muttered under his breath. But Shirley heard. She did not lift her eyes. She could, however, see Jaird's clenched hand quiver on the edge of the table beside her. It was no news to Shirley that Jaird was goaded almost to the breaking point "It seems to me," announced Kathleen in dogmatic tones, "that if a woman has any sense she will pick her a desirable husband first and fall in love with him afterward." after-ward." Mike sniggered and Kathleen scowled at him. "Is that how you intend to do it?" inquired Ritchie Graham with an amused laugh. "Yes," said Kathleen thickly. "If you ask me, it's all phooey, this love racket and letting it make a screaming idiot of you. I'm sure I'd hate being some man's domestic slave. Just for the sake of a few kisses. They always seem to dry up after the honeymoon. Haven't you noticed? And then where are you? Sold! For a gob of romance. Only the romance has gone to seed or petered out or something. But you've got to go on slaving for friend husband, because it's a life sentence." sen-tence." "Not necessarily," remarked Tom dryly, and looked at Mary Etta. "There's always Reno." Laura felt as if the words had bruised her. But Mary Etta merely mere-ly shrugged. "Thank heaven," chuckled M;ke, "I couldn't pay for a divorce if Laura wanted one. It's just another one of these newfangled gadgets you'll have to do without, old lady." (TO BE COTI.L EDj She surveyed the young man beside be-side her with disdainful eyes. be his own man?" she observed In a low and decidedly acid voice. Ritchie Graham regarded her through narrowed lazy gray eyes. "I was touring," he amended. Her heart missed a beat. "You don't mean you're settling here?" "Why not? It's a nice little town. Small enough for a fellow to have a few honest-to-God friends, big enough not to starve to death looking look-ing for a restaurant. We bachelors have to eat, you know." "You looked Dad up because I said I'd never see you again." "You wrong me. A guy in New York gave me a letter to your father. fa-ther. He seemed to think Mike would' be swell for what ails me. Sorry to prick the bubble of your conceit," he drawled. "You are calling me conceited!" gasped Kathleen. She was conscious again of a devastating desire to puncture his abominable cocksure-ness. cocksure-ness. "Listen," she said passionately, passionate-ly, "you may look like Clark Gable and maybe a thousand girls have told you so, but you don't register with me. You haven't from the first. And anyway," she added, "what could you do for a living here? Or are you rich as well as handsome and a lady killer?" He flushed. "No, I'm not rich. And I'm not a lady killer. Believe it or not, women and I get along swell apart And my face is not my fortune, Thank God. If you must know, I'm free lancing. Doing a series of articles which I'll probably proba-bly never sell. Doing them exactly as I please. And your father's giving giv-ing me desk space in his office for a negligible sum and the stimulation of my society. I understand you come down every day to do the society so-ciety column, so I'll be seeing you." "I don't believe you'd be happy here," she said in a funny quivering quiver-ing voice. "Don't you, Kathleen?" Her name was like music on his lips. A wild sweet song that strained at her heart A little blindly Kathleen Kath-leen turned away from the urgency of his eyes. "No," she said very distinctly. CHAPTER VII At the other end of the table, Laura regarded her younger daughter. daugh-ter. She thought Kathleen had never nev-er looked prettier. There was a flame in her cheeks and stars in her |