A Romance of the Commonplace By Frances Parkinson Keyes WNU Service Copyright by Frances Parkinson Keyes SYNOPSIS Motoring through Vermont, Philip Starr, young Boston architect, meets Blanche Manning, seventeen, with whom he is immediately enamored. It being a long distance to Burlington, Starr's destination. Blanche suggests, the village of Hamstead not boasting a hotel, that he become, for the night, a guest of her cousin, Mary Manning, Mary receives Philip with true Ver- mont hospitality, and he makes the acquaintance of her cousin Paul, rec- ognized as her flance. Starr informs her of his desire to win Blanche for his wife. She tells him of an old family superstitution concerning the “Blanches” of the Manning family. Paul Manning Is inclined to be dissi- pated. Mary's reproaches for his “con- wviviality” are badly received by Paul Gale Hamlin, long a suitor for Mary's hand, visits Hamstead but makes no progress in his lovemaking. Philip, from records of the Manning family, leams the sorrowful story of the “Countess Blanche,” French wife of a Revolutionary hero, Moses Manning, and of the peculiar “curse” she has transmitted to her descendants and the women of Hamstead, The evening of Philip's marriage to Blanche, Paul, un- der the Influence of liquor, bitterly af- fronts Mary, and tells her their en- gagement Is ended. Mary, at first smcutely conscious of her position as a *jilted”"woman, is greatly comforted by her lifelong friend, Sylvia Gray, and the love of her two small brothers. Paul, really loving Mary, though with a seif- ish attachment, finds life a good deal of a blank with her out of the picture CHAPTER VIII—Continued a Driven at last to desperation by loneliness and boredom, he decided to go to Mary and ask to be reinstated in her favor. This seemed easy enough when he first thought of it, but the more he reflected, the more he saw that it might be rather difficult. He bad treated Mary somewhat shabbily, he admitted. She was having a very good time without him—he was forced to admit that too—and there was real iy no special reason why she should ever crave his society. He started on his errand of reconciliation several times, only to turn back, feeling that his stomach was caving in uncomfort- ably for some reason, and that ft might be better to walt a few days longer. At last having spent a Saturday evening at home when every one else under thirty In town had gone off on a picnie, return ing In the highest spirits at midnight Mary was with the Grays and laugh- ing and singing when they dropped her at the front door—he took his courage, what there was of It, in his hands, and sought her out. He found her, Indian summer, sitting in the fragrant orchard reading a book, a rather solid looking book. She was, Paul thought, looking unusually fresh and contented and attractive. “Hullo,” he said, advancing towards her firmly, though inwardly quaking. “Hullo,” sald Mary quietly, without looking up. Paul's heart gave a queer exhibition of acrobatic powers, as if it were turn. ing somersauits all the way from his throat to his stomach, and then began to thump-—to thump so vigorously that he feared it might be audible. He was pleased, and he was beyond all reasonable measure excited, “Have a good time last night?" he inquired carelessly, “Yes. Did you? Paul choked, and fumbled with his tie. He could not understand why Mary should ask such a tactless ques tion, when she knew perfectly well— He decided to be magnanimous, and fgnore it, “What are you reading?” ““The life of Charles Adams.’ “Do you like it? “Very much. Haven't you read It? Another tactless question! Mary's voice expressed only polite surprise, yet she was aware that he never read things of that sort. The top of Paul's collar was rapidly sinking to the level of his collar button. Mary went on reading. “I thought I'd come over for a little while,” he murmured desperately, Mary turned a page. “Nice day, Isn't it?” “Lovely.” “Warm for the time of the year, too.” “And likely to grow warmer any minute,” replied Mary, her eves still on her book. Paul could feel even the back of his neck growing red. Still he persisted. “Blanche Is back in Brookline Mother had a letter from her last might, She's thinking of leaving me and going down to pay her a little visit.” “1 should think it would be a very pleasant change for her” Something in Mary's tone made Paul Jook at her more carefully. The pain- ful flush at thas back of his neck spread all over him. He could feel the cold perspiration dropping down his spine. There was no possible doubt of It--Mary was laughing! Paul turned his back on her and strode away. Though unfamiliar with the quotation, he had, In substance, pictured Mary sitting like patience on af monument smiling down at grief, Apparently she was doing nothing of the sort. She missed him go little and was getting along so well without him, that when he went to her and tried he asked Francis " to “make up,” she felt she could af- ford to laugh at him! Well, he wasn't to be trifled with like that! He'd show her. Angrily he brushed away two big tears of resentment and hurt pride that were trickling down his flushed cheeks, In the seclusion of his bedroom he brushed his rumpled hair and changed his collar, then sat down to cool off and think things over. He'd show Mary . . . He dwelt for a few min- utes on this agreeable thought. But show her what? What was there to show her? And supposing he could think up something, would she consent to be shown? His recent interview with her, the mere thought of which caused him to grow hot again, did not furnish material for much hope of exhibition. Mary, after all, held all the high cards. His only chance, so to speak, was to lead through weak- ness up to strength, His pride, if nothing else, told him that it would be better than leaving the game unfin- fshed, even if he lost. His common sense told him that if he did not finish it, he would have smaller hope than ever of another game with Mary. And he wanted to play with her, Having reached this conclusion, of which there was no possible doubt, neither comfortably nor rapidly, he decided to act upon it at He fairly rushed to the orchard. Mary was still reading. “Look here, Mary,” he burst out, “I'm—I"'m-—sorry I—I acted as 1 did the night of Blanche's wedding. In fact, I'm—I'm just as ashamed of It as I can be. f you'd once, I'd give anything if —averiook It" “Overlook it!” flamed Mary, “That was the wrong word" floun- dered Paul. “I meant, of course, | want to ask you to—forgive me. To— to be friends with me, if you won't be anything else—" “Anything else!” “Oh, of course, 1 knew you wouldn't be anything agaln after—after that! But 1 ean't seem to say what I'm try ing to. You know what [I mean, thouzh. Please, Mary—" and he held out his hand, The girl closed her book, rose, and came toward him, looking at him with that clear and direct gaze that was so hard to meet, though he flinched, he looked at her squarely, “Please,” he said again. “1 never would have done it if 1 hadn't been drunk.” She drew back as if that were an evenly, “Why of course it's an excuse!” “Of course it isn't. It was—dis graceful, to do what you did, but it was even more disgraceful to get into a condition that would allow you to do it” , Paul had honestly not considered the matter in this light before. “Well, 1 guess it was” he sald, flushing. “I'll try not to get-—into such a condition again. 1 am sorry. Honestly, 1 am. Won't you shake hands with me and forgive me?” “1 wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole. 1 certainly won't forgive I believe you're sorry now, be you're having & horrid time, ut if I forgave you and you began to a good time again, you would forget all about being sorry and do Pes h UL, “You speak she said a ilttle. excuse,” you. cause have “1 wouldn't—1 swear I wouldn't” “You're not going to have the chance. I must go in now and get supper.” “Well—won't you at least speak to me when you see me and-—and so on-— 15 long as 1 do behave?” “Yes,” sald Mary over her shoulder. “I'l do that, if you just happen to see I won't if you try to like this, again.” And with this small concession, Paul was obliged to be satisfied Or rather, he strove to be satisfied and was not. Mary was amazingly pretty, prettier than Blanche, far and away prettier than Rosalie King or any of the girls who worked in the mill at White Water. Why hadn't he noticed that before? And she had “pep”— oceans of it! How could he possibly have thought that she was tame? He had not only acted like a fool, but like a blackguard, He deserved his fate. That was the last conclusion that Paul reached and the effect that it had upon him was more sobering than aoything that had happened to him In all his life He bowed under it, hurt and cowed and a little frightened. Then he pulled himself together, still wineing, and began to try to build together again, a stone at a time, the foundation for that happiness which he had de stroyed. me. CHAPTER IX Paul was wise enough to guess that his cause would be hurt rather than helped if, Immediately after his en counter with Mary In the orchard, he “happened” to see her too often. But he nodded to her when he caught sight of her at a distance, and she nodded back. He did not venture on more than “Hullo,” or “Good morning” when they met. But after a week or #0 he remarked that there had been a hard frost the night before, and that the post office was being shingled This daring attempt at conversation having left him unscathed and even unattacked, he risked stopping a mo. ment, the next day, to warm his chilled fingers over the stove and get a drink of water at the sink. And summoning more and more courage with each new success, he finally appeared one eve. ning after supper and asked Mary if she would lend him something to read, He felt that the desire to Improve his mind might be one which would ap- peal to Mary and cause him to find some siight favor in her sight. Most of all, however, he welcomed any ex cuse which could be construed as suf- ficiently reasonable to give him a few words with her. She held the door half-open without inviting him to enter as he made his request, and the corners of her mouth twitched. He had the uncomfortable feeling that she saw through him per fectly. “Would you like the ‘Autobiography of Charles ['rancls Adams?” she asked. He looked at her miserably. “You know I couldn't make head nor tail of it,” he sald, in the voice of a pris oner at the bar who pleads for justice though he knows he deserves no mercy. “I'm not clever like yon.” “You're thorough, when you take the trouble to be. Thoroughness helps in reading.” “Al right, give it to me” Mary vanished, leaving him on the doorstep, closing the door behind her, When she reappeared, she had an un- formidable looking volume in her hand, “This is Ilex Beach's ‘Heart of the Sunset.” she sald demurely, “It took me a little while to find it, but I think you may like it better. If you decide you want Charles Francis after all, come back and get it.” “Well, your cordial bribe worth considering,” retorted Paul. Then, rather frightened at his daring, he blushed scarlet Neverthe less hie looked straight st her, smiled, and lifted his eap. very much for this,” he =aid Inevitably, a few brought the book back, having, invitation Is a “Thanks “Good night™ Inter, to his enjoyed evenings intense surprise, it, Seth had g and Mary was putting the ch bed upstairs and did not knock. After hesitating a mi went Into the living room, volume down on the table to look at the others that were lying upon it. He on a Zane Grey's, down two or pages, and inely interested, wn and to read, entirely his awk ward position as an unwelcome guest, When Mary half later, carrying a huge mending basket piled high with guiltily to his feet eXCUSes, “That's all quiily. me while | sew? “Do you honestly mean that? “If you would honestly like to, You thoroughly nie to prayer meeting, novel of the then, genu chanced glanced three sat d foraotting forgetting entered, sewing, he star and stammered right.” tran said Mary, you start in” It was not until the tall clock In the corner struck eleven that Mary spoke or stirredk Then she rose, gath- ering up her piles of neatly folded and mended clothes “You must go home.” getting late. That's a good isn't It “Fine! more fomorrow “it's story, she said Conld-—could we have some night? “I've promised to go to White Wa ter with the Taylors, There's going to be a concert.” “Well, the nest night, “That's Sunday. 1 generally go to church Sunday evenings, now. Father listens for the boys™ “The service is over early” “Yes but Thomas walks home with me and comes In for a You can come, too, of course, if ye enjoy it, but we couldn't read” This did not sound especially tractive to Paul. Nevertheless, his new-born caution, and in his grati tude for the unexpected favor he had just received, he decided not to say so, “Well, perhaps 1 will. And thanks awfully for letting me stay tonight I've had a fine time. May I take the book home with me?” “Certainly—wottld you like a glass of milk and a doughnut before you go? 1 made fresh ones today.” “Um-m-m! Would 17 They went into the Kitchen, down beside the with red cloth on it, and talked over the story as they ate. They did not agree as to the probable outcome. A friendly ar gument ensued. When Paul finally got up and pushed back his chair, they were both laughing, and Mary, with a sudden gesture, snatched the book from him. “You shan't find out which of us is right before 1 do!” she exclaimed “Yon had better come over Monday night and read aloud some more, | promise not to look into it mysell be fore then, Good night” “Good night,” sald Paul, briefly and happily. And held out his hand, It was not until Mary had put her hand In his that she remembered her statement of a few weeks earlier about a ten-foot pole, though Paul had by no means forgotten it. And when, grow. ing erimson, she tried to pull her hand away, she found she could not, “Good night.” he sald again, pleas antly and firmly, and gripping hard. For a moment Mary struggled to free herself, Then she met his eyes, The first lesson in Paul's new course of education had been to learn to look Mary In the face, And, as she had said, Paul was thorough. The expression that the girl saw in her cousin's was so full of new-born humility and pen itence, and yet so clearly determined to deserve, and claim, the right on which he was insisting, that she could not well see It and remain un touched, She stopped struggling and returned his pressure, “Good night, Pank” she sald "soft ly. “I've had a good time, too,” and smiled. then ™ little while mid at- with sat table the (TO BE CONTINUED.) Petrified Evergreens The wood found In the petrified forest in Arizona Is that of prehls torle eoniferons or evergreen trees are flourishing io fash- Even so early as in mid we hegan to have hints of 1. flow- to be. The drst flower gar- hats made their appearance These for the most part ad- hered to the tallored mood, such as for instance a sallor with perhaps a band of little velvet flowers very prim. ly encircling the crown or perhaps with a wee bandeau of posies next to the hair, They were adorable, as they brought a breath of spring, and the reaction to them was so favorable Paris mil liners were encouraged to follow them up with a more pretentious gesture began to arrive from abroad most ravishing little toque-and-bouton niere sets made all of violets, or rose petals, or gardenias or, perhaps, vel vet posies in variegated coloring. The latest arrivals from certain French ateliers Introduced a most charming idea, that of flower necklaces which are worn like lels. We are il lustrating one such centered in the group pictured. The flowers in this [FOWER 3 luonland. nitured timidly. the wreath about the hat and the lel necklace. Among the models of her spring collection Jane Blanchot also is offering an Interesting lel formed of white linen hyacinths with a black rib bon across the back of the neck. This OF SPRING COATS There is a lot of talk about Schi- aparelll’s square-shouldered coat model its padded shoulders. A sleeve applied with cartridge pleats at the shoulder Is a simpler means the designer uses to get the same square effect. One lipstick-red unlined woolen coat that is here from Bruyere shows a square armhole as well as a square shoulder, For a dress coat—a division more important this spring than last, with the increased Interest in the after noon toilette—one may choose {rom many perishable shades and soft weaves and decide either furred or unfurred designs. The fiat Peter Pan collars of fairly pelts are a magnet for fille. and the more sophisticated wom an goes for rever lapels of the same kind of skins Betweer these two versions is an other, which has a self-fabric cape bordered once, twice, or thrice with flufty fox. Being a detachable gadet, one may ditch the cape entire and, opening the revers, fare forth with a late spring model which needs only a corsage to give it elegance and je ne suis quol on Cashmere Sweaters Are Among Latest Arrivals The iatest sweaters are in plain colors, In cashmere or wool. A few exceptions are in wool and angora, This mixture Is also found in en sembies or capes, gloves and scarves and the wool is knitted In dark shades with the angora worked In stripes of pastel tone and white, A variation of the scarf is seen In a round knitted collar, which rests on the shoulders and is fitted to the throat. It has a small turned-over fluted edge and is made In one piece and fastens with two clips, Shoulder Strap Pins Shoulder strap pins are In -again-— hut this time they are not concealed in prewar style, but are out.in-the-open decorations for evening dresses, They are elaborate and fanciful, set with gems and made In fourinch lengths so that they will be very much In evi dence, Most of th» Hower logues are de signed in colors to form a perfect har- How I Brokelnto The Movies by Hal C. Herman | a ———— INNING =a personality award was responsible for my first “break” into moticn pictures. I was born in Pittsburgh and my parents moved to Birmingham while I was still a youngster. It was there that I was graduated from high school and entered Alabama Normal college with the idea of becoming a school teacher. I entered the beauty contest that was being put on by the Birmingham News, not so much because 1 had any belief that I would win, but more for the novelty and excitement of the com- petition. The contest took place at a ball, to which every girl In the state was in- vited. The winner was to be chosen as contestants danced before the Judges, Very much to my surprise, 1 was selected as the winner of the contest { and given a trip to San Francisco as | & guest of the Universal Film corpora. | tlon. This was In 1915, Along with 47 other contest winners, coast. It was a glorious trip; we entertained at all the cities enroute. When the exposition were was over 1 may be. We are showing two flower toques here. The ensemble at the top, to the right, Is made of violets with a matching corsage. The matron of honor who wore it had on a lovely light blue lace gown. For bride a set sisted of a toque of white rose petals and a muff which was a perfect heart shape formed of identical petals, These heart-shaped flower muffs are the new. est florals for brides The dainty toque below to the left In the picture Is balf and half of navy straw and purple velvet pansies. It tops a dress of Eleanor blue, the hya- cinth tone of this blue being a perfect complement to the rich purple tones of the flowers. The call of the mode for military ef- fects is answered In dashing cossack hats an? fez turbans whose height and severity of line is something for which we are expected to acquire a taste Note the two models below in the picture, They are indicative of this new style trend. feather fantasies which are distin the season's hats. They in. clude every type from simple quills and brush effects to all sorts of In triguing novelties © 1933, Western Newspaper Union guishing wn —— IT TIES AROUND By CHERIE NICHOLAS Here's efliclency for you. No but. tons, no troublesome snaps for the woman who owns one of these nifty sylo-frocks as they are called The model shown is in a brown and white cotton print with white pique finish. ings, for most everything from house Cresses to evening frocks is trimmed in: pique or organdie nowadays. You slip your arms through the little puffed sleeves, wrap the left side acrose the back, then wrap the right side over and tie the ends in a bow in front. The silhouelle and talloring are as smart as in your favorite aft. ernoon gown. It's the sort of dress that makes working at home a joy. Color Combination Burgundy or wine color proves to be lovely combined with pavement gray, hyacinth blue and with any of the lav. Lois Wilson, went to Los Angeles for as short visit, after which I went to Chicago where my aunt was living at the time, I heard that Philip Small and Lois Weber were making pictures In Chi cago, so I called them with the ! hope of getting work. Miss Weber was very friendly to me, and because of my long hair gave me a part in a pilc- ture she was directing with Pavlowa. Misd Weber told me she was sure | had screen possibilities, and took me back to Hollywood with her, and guar- anteed that were 1 unsuccessful, she would pay my expenses home. After doing a part of one picture with Miss Weber, I worked for two months as an extra at Universal stu- dio, By this time the desire to gain success in pictures was imbued In every fiber of my body. In one picture—and I laugh when 1 think of it—1 played the part of a dope flend, Lon Chaney put my first makeup on, and it was he who gave me instructions on the subject About this time J. Warren Kerrigan ! was looking for a leading lady, and | picked me from a group of extra girls | to appear opposite him. This was bet | ter and the salary was $40 a week, | which was most encouraging. I played opposite Mr. Kerrigan In | nine pictures and then accepted an i@ffer of $120 with a company in San | Francisco, i Upon completion of this work I re- | turned to Hollywood, and signed a | jong term cgntract with the old Par | alta company, for whom Mr. Kerrigan | was starring. My first work under this on | my first real big opportunity, and from | there on things were easier. When the Paralta company went out I had contracts offered for whom 1 have for success on the yoddess of Luck has never In my search sign the contract with Famous Play- ers; and again recently Luck made me sign a contract with Warner Brothers, where 1 made my first all talking pic- ture, “The Gambler,” WNU Service Novarro Leads Stars in International Popularity Novarro has completed arrange. ments to sing for two weeks at the Empire theater In Paris after his pic ture is completed. The Paris tour will be arranged for spring or early sum- mer, whenever agreeable to the actor. Novarro was a film find of Rex Ingram and Ferdinand Pinney Earle, and started his climb up the ladder of fame in 1922, At present he gels more fan mail than any other male actor on _his lot, and bas the greatest inter national popularity of all of them. His International popularity, lumping the returns from ropean amd Latin. American countries with the United States, rates about as great as Garbo's «perhaps greater at this time, for Garbo's exclusiveness and months off the screen have begun to pul her on the declining curve,
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