TANGLED WIVES By PEGGY SHANE Copyright by Peggy Shane. WNU Service CHAPTER IX—Continued w— Gi Doris took her hand shakily. “You're awfully sweet,” she said. Beatrice sat down. “Then let's talk quickly, because I can see you're tired to death. Rocky has told me every- thing. You know Rocky is just like my brother. We spent all of our vaca- tions together as children, so I hope you won't mind his having told me. I don't think anyone else should know—" “Your father—" began Doris, “No. I don’t think so. I'm sure he'd approve, but if anything comes up, it's better If he doesn't know. [ have a small sitting room with a porch of my own downstairs. You shall spend your time there. I have everything planned. You need see no one except Mary, a mald who's been with us a long time, and is practically blind besides. And Rocky shall go and see your people.” “But your wedding—" sald Doris. “Yes: I'm afrald I shall be rather busy. I won't be able to see as much of you as I'd like. But it's not until Saturday. That's four days, and that's oceans of time for Rocky to get to New Jersey and back. He'll take the train. he bishop Is arriving Satur- day morning—so he'll be in time for the wedding rehearsal which is to be at eleven on the day of the wedding. And Friday night my bridesmaid is coming from Mount Kisco, and several friends of father's are coming—the Du Vals, of course, will be here” “Oh I don’t think we ought to stay,” said Doris. “But we'll get away long before the wedding.” “Oh no! You must stay for the wed- ding.” ’ Rocky shook his head gravely. “I will have to get Doris away before then. She'll be recognized.” “That's true, isn't it? But surely you'll have everything cleared up by then.” Doris said: “If 1 do stay, couldn't I write letters for you—or do some- thing useful?’ “That's an idea. I'll have about a {million letters to write. You are an angel™ She rose. “Now you must sleep. This is Wednesday night. Rocky will get a train in the morning and be with your family—if it is your family, which I doubt-—by tomorrow night. He ought to be able to get back here by Friday, and you can leave then, if you feel you must.” She took Rocky firmly by the arm. “We must go now. And let the poor child sleep.” “1 don't know why you're all so con- siderate of me,” said Doris, who was trembling on the verge of tears. “It's Rocky who needs rest, really. I've dozed in the car a lot, and he's been at the wheel since three o'clock this morning.” “Yesterday morning,” said Rocky. He stood for a minute looking down at Doris when Beatrice had left the room. “Good night. I probably won't see you again until I get back.” His curt tone startled Doris. He was biting his lips nervously, His jaw twisted unpleasantly. “What's the matter?” said Doris in astonishment, Rocky held out his hand. “Good. night,” he said in a businesslike tone, Doris bent her head. “Good-night” As the door closed behind him tears sprang to her eyes. He had been so— not exactly unfriendly—but so matter of fact. She hardly knew what she had expected him to do. But certain. ly she had not looked for this abrupt impersonal good-by. She crept between the sheets for- lornly. The sun was streaming in her room when she woke, Beatrice was stand- ing beside her with a loaded tray. “It's ten o'clock,” smiled Beatrice, “and I thought you might be hungry.” Doris sat up, opening and closing her eyes. They still smarted from the strain of her long drive. “Oh. You're nice to bring up this—but aren't you terribly busy?” “Busy calming the maids. You'd think each individual one was being married herself!” “Has Rocky gone?” “Yes, quite early—I have to run now. But I brought you this.” She gave Doris the morning paper. Doris read it as she drank her coffee, At first she didn't notice the story though it was on the front page. Then the name “Diane Merrell” caught her eyes. She set down her cup with a gasp, It was a double column heading on the front page of a New York morning paper. Some young reporter had done his best to make a humorous incident out of the stopping of Mrs. Rockwell Du Val! on the road to Rockwell St Garden's house, The story was sym- pathetic to Doris and Rocky, Lack. ing a pleture of young Mrs. Rocky Du Val, they had printed one of Oscar Du Val with the.caption. “Son's wife taken in false arrest,” Doris read it through twice. It would have been a good story—a good % of ’ joke on the police—If only she had been Mrs. Rocky Du Val She finished her breakfast slowly. At the end of the story was a paragraph which sald that Mrs. Du val was the fourth wrong Diane Mer. rell to have been discovered, “Why couldn't one of those girls have been Diane Merrell Instead of me?’ she thought as she got out of bed. She would ask Beatrice to get her some old newspapers. She would like to read about Diane Merrell. She was hathed and dressed when Beatrice came back, “I'm afraid I've been a long time, but there's such a lot to do.” There was a busy little frown on her broad brow-— “I wonder, Beatrice, If you could dig up some old newspapers for me to read—" “Of course.” They went downstairs together to Beatrice’'s pretty litle room, done In flowered chintz, “This has been my own special place since 1 was sixteen,” sald Beatrice. “I'm sure there are some newspapers in the basement. I'll send them up.” A few minutes later, an eiderly mald came in and put down a huge plle of old newspapers on the table, Doris rose unsteadily. She felt a little faint as she put out her hands to touch them. Here lay her own story—or did it? Would she have the courage to read It? The first paper was recent, and yielded nothing. As she continued her search with a beating heart, she came upon great glaring headlines: “Shoots Groom After Wedding. So. clety Girl Kills New Husband and Dis- appears. Note Found” She read feverishly. She had been married at an afternoon wedding on May 19 to a man named Howard Val- ery. Immediately after the wedding reception, which had been at her fa- ther's home, she had gone out by a side door where her own motor was parked, loaded with her luggage. The groom had been with her. As they were about to step into the car she had shot him, and driven away. As she read, a stronger and stronger feeling of antipathy for this girl Diane Merrell developed. Was It possible that she had ever heen a girl eapable of all this? She was a heartless, cold. blooded criminal. For the note proved that the crime had been premeditated, She studied the note again. It had been found In the pocket of the poor boy whose body was discovered sprawled against a flowering llac bush, It read: HOWARD: This marriage can’t go on—Iit cannot. You must be crazy. 1 don’t want to kill you. Do something about it for heaven's sake. D. Could any girl have written such a note and forgotten it? Surely, surely if she were Diane Merrell, she would remember something now. But not a faint glimmer of recollection enlight- ened her, Could it be that she had two sides to her nature, and that that other, darker side was hidden from her now, sleeping quietly? Some day It might wake again, and she would find her. self a killer. She would be eapable of shooting somebody she loved—capable of shooting Rocky. She was sick and frightened. She lay at full length on the gently sway- ing couch. Then she propped her head on her hands and took up another paper, Diane Merrell had driven herself to New York. Her car had been found parked on Forty-sixth street the day after the murder. She saw a large picture of herself, Yes, it looked very like her, There was no doubt about that, She went back to her reading. There was a description of the wedding. It brought back nothing at all. Doris tried not to think any more about Diane Merrell, Surely Rocky would discover something that would help her. He must be nearing Mor ristown by now, She went to bed early. The next afternoon would bring Rocky back. That would have to settle her fate. Now she felt numb and exhausted, In spite of everything she slept. CHAPTER X Rocky did not come the next after. noon, Instead came a telegram say. ing that he was catching a train that night and would arrive Saturday morn- ing. That would be the day of the wed- ding, Doris had developed a streak of hopefulness. Rocky would have un raveled some clue, and would bring back the miraculous news that she was not Diane Merrell, Or he would have discovered that Howard Valery had not been killed, or that he had committed suicide. No, that would not do. The experts sald that that was impossible. She remembered read- ing that. Besides, Diane had left a note. But how stupid she had been to put down on paper such ap Inten- tion and then to carry it out, leaving the note for the police to find, Of course she hadn't meant it for the police, Friday passed in a stew of specula- tion, She woke at dawn next morning with a heavy heart. After breakfast she waited on the little porch beside the sitting room for Rocky. Her feeling of uncertainty deepened. After all, If she was Diane Merrell what could Rocky do for her? Whatever happened, a long life of loneliness stretched before her; that, or death. : “Mrs. Du Val sees no one” It was Mary's volce. The butler answered, “I have told her that” “The doctor's orders are that Mrs, Du Val cannot see anyone.” “I told her. But she won't listen, " No, it was a woman, As she hesitated, ting room, A new volce sald loudly: going to see her” fore—a strong husky girl's “Belleve me.” the volece went “you'd better not you know what's good for you.” Doris peeked in. one she had seen linen. Doris had seen her before-—but where? “Plenty of good reasons—" “Whom did you wish to personal tone, self Mrs. Rockwell Du Val" The girl of cordiality in her manner. to see me I know—** “Then why do you try—1 “Plenty more why she'd better” Doris recognized her. She was the gir! she had seen at the clam stand the friend of the real Dorls, had called her Molly, termination, She was looking Beatrice full in the face belligerently, “There's no use trying to high-hat me, Are you Mrs. Du Val? “No,” sald Beatrice quietly. “1 thought you weren't. | have an idea who she is. And I Intend te go find her If 1 have to.” The quiet youthful voice of Beatrice was in marked contrast to Molly's In sistent tones. “Won't you sit down and tell me what it is you want to see Mrs. Du Val about?” “That's my business” sullenly, “Supposing you tell it to me™ “Like h—1 I will” “Then I'm afrald you can't see her” Molly's tone held a jeer. “Oh yeah? Well, supposing I tell you I'm a friend of the real Mrs, Du Val" Beatrice said nothing. “That gets you, doesn't It? Now perhaps you'll understand why | want to take a squint at the girl who Is palming herself off as Doris Du Val” “I'm afraid I don't,” sald Beatrice quietly. “How did you find out about this? “Doris saw it in the papers. Mra Du Val arrested. And that made her wonder, as the saying goes. She sent me a wire" “You are here then as Mrs. Du Val's agent? Am I to understand that? Molly sat down and crossed her legs “Yeah, That's about It” “Where is Mrs. Du Val?™ “That's my business, too" “Rocky sald that Doris had left him, Do you know where she 37 “Supposing” 1 do? "Does Doris want to get Rocky to come back to her?" Molly disdainfully Inserted her tongue between opened lips and blew vigorously, “H-1, no,” she remarked when she had finished the exercise “I'm sorry. I don't quite under. stand.” Molly, searching In the. untidy depths of her very large hand-bag, brought out a paper package of clg- arettes. "Gee, I've smoked my last one.” She crumpled the bright green wrapper In her fist. “Have you got one¥ Beatrice rose and handed her a sil. ver box filled with the small white cylinders, Molly seemed cheered as she lit her cigarette, and much more favorably impressed with Beatrice. "Tell you how it is—this is just between you and I. of course—but Doris wants me to dicker with the girl financially—see?” Astonishment showed In Beatrice's breathless “Dicker? Financially? De you mean that Mrs, Du Val wants to get a divorce from Rocky? “That's it. I knew you'd get It. 1 knew you'd get It.” said a private matter for her to discuss with Rocky.” trice pityingly. “You look like a girl who would think a thing like that" “I am awfully sorry. you'll think I''m a bit stupid. But what financial transactions are you talking about?" “In a couple of words, baby: all mony.” “Alimony I" Doris could not stand any more. She stepped out from behind the cur tains, “I'd like to say a word or two.” Beatrice rose. Her face was horri- fled. Molly's big brown eyes half closed In a veiled, eritical stare, “1 thought you'd turn out to be the girl, 1 wrote Doris about meeting you down among the clams. And was she pleased? She's been trying to get something like that on Rocky for months! The Du Vals have got plenty, and she'll take a big cash settlement, and that will be the end. You know she’s willing to be big—" Doris was seething. She clenched her hands together and spoke with difficulty. “1 have nothing to do with all this” “Oh pow, what's the use of taking that attitude? Some girls wouldn't be generous like Doris. With what she's got on you now--she could get all mony for the rest of her life--see? But she won't—say listen, Girlle, you're in the movies, aren't you?" “Of course I'm not.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) =a E F YOU can snatch out of fashion's med- ley of novelties, buck- les, buttons-—clips clasps or gndiets of uny sort which are breath- taking in their oddness, by all means do so, for the hue and ery now resounding throughout the style world is for fas tenings of striking originality. One way of giving swank to your outfit Is to use perfectly epormous buttons. They may be of metal or composition, of or better still, of wood, for wooden dress ornamenta- tion is the rage. As to size, Paris Is not only doing things on a big scale when It comes to buttons but much of the latest costume jewelry trends to Some of the new beads are tremendous In size, Especially chie new velvet or satin beads which are smartest when they are an exact color-mateh to you dress, And have you seen the new lipstick buttons? They look amusingly like the real thing When It comes to unique dress fastenings they are about the neatest trick yet discovered, They measure two Inches long, are of shiny nickel with bright colored galilith tips at each end. There's & big buckle to match If you're asking. A half dozen of these buttons on 8 gay woolen jacket is warranted to make any au tumn street costume look stunning. The lovely new mirror buttons an swer the call for touches that dazzle and scintiliate. To match the mirror buttons on your dress you should have initials on your bag of the same looking-ginass medium cut in iarge block type. In the glittering class, and the gilit tering, sparkling note is certainly go ing strong in fashion’s realm this sea ginss, ward generous proportions those aid son, rhinestone buttons are The rhinestone handsome dinner gown tered in the Illustration are Which goes to show the originality eraft these times, stone of heavy The mousseline, and nights. on the slides. This gown Is fashioned black crepe for the Jacket blouse is of sheer thus stressing the black plece for evening dresses, Is employed for the collar and bow. £ A oes Gen They Wars. left are accomplished In varied with self-fabric cord which Is through decorative front drawn might be called. The brown caracul collar and epaulets are matched with tabs of fur which finish the cord streamers The good-looking suit to the right is of a knitted novelty fabric. metal lacings and tie of the same material Among other impelling style touches in the way of outof-theordinary fas tenings are such clever devices as safety-pin effects. namental and jeweiry-like prosaic utilitarian kind. than the rows just like buttons, PARISIANISM NEW FASHION RELIGION “Parisianism” is the new fashion re ligion which Jean Patou has created for 1933-1034 season, and he says the reason he has adopted this title is be cause the fashions of the ast few months have diverged somewhat from Parisian taste, “The elegant woman found herself reduced to choosing too realistic an nthiete's suit for daytime wear and confronted for evening wear by the alternatives of dressing herself up In seraphim’s wings or winding herself round with feathers In the manner of the unforgettable star whose appear ance In our capital aroused such di verse sentiments” Patou maintains that his plan this year is not to decorate costumes but to build them so architecturally that { they will need no special decoration The fronts of his skirts are simple | and his chief ambition is to define the | legs but cover them at the same time | Mannish Chapeau Really Devastatingly Feminine At first glance seemingly amnnish the hats of the 1913 winter mode prove on cleser inspection, on the contrury devastatingly feminine, . Nothing makes a pretty face more utterly girlish than a becoming jaunty hat of mannish cut, perched at the just-right angle on shining hair, A simple, sophisticated knot, an un expected bow of ribbon, give the lle 10 the sterner suggestion. Even the neretofore severe sports beret be comes subtly more elegant when fash foned--as it Is this season—of choicest fur skins, New Material Possesses Unlimited Possibilities This is the heydey of artificial silks French creative genlus--the thing we onn’t seem to get away from, no mat ter how smart we are about copying things-