The Centre reporter. (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, March 01, 1934, Image 3

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    PA
Copyright Macrae-8mith Ca
00006000056
SYNOPSIS
—
To the quiet household of Doctor
Ballard, in Mulberry Square, youthful
Dr. Hugh Kennedy, comes as an as-
sistant, to stay a year. He first meets
Janie, nineteen-year-old daughter of
Doctor Ballard. Her older sister, Celia,
a petted beauty, ia away from home.
Hugh regards Janie, a universal favor-
ite, as a small girl, to be treated as a
chum, Hugh sees a photograph of
Cella, and is Impressed by her love-
liness. He continues to regard Janie
as, as he expresses it, a “good little
fellow,” a “funny kid,” but she has a
far different feeling for him. Cella re-
turns home. She accepts Hugh's open
admiration as her due, just one more
in her train of admirers. Tom McAl-
lister is another, and Carter Shelby,
whom she has met en her recent trip.
is & third. Shelby is believed to be
wealthy, and Celia longs to escape
from the *“drabness” of Mulberry
Square.
CHAPTER VII—Continued
wales
“The prodiga: son,"
depend on a motor
Square! You
fully, Celia.”
Celia’s lips trembled.
very quickly.
“Why don't you g out to
Lucy's?" she suggested.
“THT «call her” ella
grateful to Janie,
They heard her talking at the tele
phone in the hall “If it wouldn't
be too much trouble,” The silver harp
strings were “Thank you,
Aunt Lucy! y darling of
you
She was
to the living ro
“I'l run you out,” Hugh offered.
“No, thank you,” Celia's smile was
not for Hugh. “Aunt | ¥
William in with the sedan.
I
“Hugh.” Mother sto
room door. Her expressior
riedrand anxious
“Yes, Mrs. Bal
up from the chess
the vie
knight
“did not
Mulberry
described it so beautl-
he said,
ile thought
Aunt
felt almost
hen she returned
is sending
od in the living
was wor-
ard.
ei Te N +}
torious march
her something
wites later Hugh
lia's door,
“Come in,” a
Celia lay
of fluffy p
Her
“What is it, Celia?
chair beside the bed.
“I'm utterly
quivered. Her ¢
tears. “I can't
“Drink this.” He lifted her head
from the pillows, tingling at the touch
of her hair and the petal smoothness
of her skin.
She drank the mixture like an obedl-
ent child, her misty eyes lifting above
the rim of the glass,
“Tell me what happened, Cella?”
Hugh settled the pillows behind her
head. “You'll feel better If you talk
it all out.”
“It's just—me."
strings were muted to
sound, “I can’t bear to be disap
pointed In my—my friends.”
That Shelby with his mock
Hugh's hand knotted Into a
fist,
“Tell me, Celia,” His voice was un-
steady. There was a hammering
in his ears. She locked so lovely
and helpless and fragile in the nest
of fluffy cushions.
“Don’t, Celia!
“
gently et
faint voice called
it a
r and ivory
and wistful
" Hugh drew a
ped up agains
iows ln the |
bed.
face was wan
wretched.”
Her
nisted
ips
yes were with
go to sleep”
The silver harp
threads of
king eyes!
capable
Dont ery I”
Afe is so hard. Sometimes I think
I'll go into a convent.”
“Celia!”
“It would be heavenly, Hugh” She
wore her “Saint Cecelia” expression.
Hugh saw her, lovely, fragile and for.
ever beyond his reach in the somber
garb of a nun. “No more hurts and
disappointments. Just nothing but
silence and praying and peace.”
“My lovely Celia!"
“You do understand me, Hugh?"
Celia returned from the convent. She
smiled faintly, a poignant smile, mist
ed over with tears. “You don't think
I'm just an over-sensitive little
goose?
Her hand lay like a porcelain flower
against the spread of lilac silk. Hugh
stooped quickly, brushed It with his
cheek,
“Celia,” he sald brokenly, “Cella!”
CHAPTER VIII
The White Marsh creek wound Its
twisting course through stretches of
yellow-green reeds. Janle pulled oe
casionally on the oars to keep the boat
in the current. In between times she
sat very still and thought of many
things. This was her last day at
home,
Father was fishing. He sat In the
stern of the boat and patiently trolled
a line. It was a laber of love, There
were, apparently, no fish left in all of
the winding creek. Father didn't
seem to mind. He puffed on his pipe
and watched the lazy sipples. [Dear
Father! Janle's heart swelled with
tender affection. She could feel It,
pressing against her chest, knotting a
lump in her throat,
She was glad she was going away.
It hurt more than she could bear to
watch Hugh fall In love with Celia,
He still went swimming with Janie
and teased her and called her "a good
iittle egg.” But it wasn't quite the
same, He was moody and thoughtful
His eyes, when he glanced at Celia,
had a new sort of worshiping look, It
had happened— Janle thought back
through the past two weeks, It had
happened, she declded, just after Car-
ter Shelby had come and gone.
It was strange about that visit, The
postman brought no more square gray
envelopes. Mother dreamed no longer
over the picture of a rose brick man-
sion,
Cella refused to discuss the matter,
Mother and Great-aunt Rose believed
that Celia had dismissed Carter Shelby
because he had falled to measure ap
to her hig ideals. It brightened
Cella’'s halo. It shed a radiance about
her. It made Janie a little sick
“l.ook out there, Skipper!"
Janie roused with a start,
had nosed itself into
oars were tangled in ¢lum
“I'm sorry, Father. 1 was
ing."
"This is a good place to stop.” Fa-
ther pulled in his trallin 8 “Let's
soa what Rachel n the basket,
I have an appetite these days 3"
There were s¢
The boat
the
ps of reeds.
the rushes:
think-
line.
pac Ke
» basket
168 an ykies stuffed with
of the
and
figs,
peact
Janie sat | i wottom
boat, hugging her
leaning her head
knee,
She was going
three months until
tion, Three months
dred miles stretching
and Mulberry Square. Perhaps, the
she wouldn't mind so much. Ninet
days. Hugh had marked them on the
calendar in the office. Hugh
“I'll miss you, little fellow."
Little Fellow!
at. He cal
her arms,
against Father's
away! It would be
the Christmas vaca-
and
between
three hun-
Janie
her
She
Hugh called
led Cella “darling.”
cr}
IEE
ald
aren't reall Janie,
ou're nibbling like &
“1-I'm not ge
“Aren't you feeling w i
“I have a lump in my th roat.
“ell me . . . Can ye Baby 7"
She could always tell Father. As
far back as she could remember
could always tell Father about the
things that hurt. Only thi ime it
different
“It's going away, I guess™
“We'll do something pleasant to
night.”
*“l have an engagement
He asked me
at the Inn because
at home, We'll
while”
she
was
with Hugh
to have supper with him
it's my last night
dance for a little
. Dancing with Hugh
There would be a moon. It was wait-
ng now in the sky, misty, unnoticed, a
thin white ghost of a moon ‘
“I'm proud of Hugh,” Father sald
warmly. “Between us we're doing a
pretty good job.”
They were silent for a moment, The
reeds all around them rustied with a
gentle slurring sound, like the rustie
of the taffeta skirts that Mother used
to wear . . “Janie is such a plain
little thing.” “Curtsey to Aunt Rose,
dear. See-—like Cella does” “Celials
a sweet tempered child, Sing your
French song, Celia” Celia! Celia!
Celia! Celia! “Darling, darling,
darling,” sang the Chinese nightingale.
Only It wasn't a nightingale. It was
Hugh, talking to Cella in the gar
deny , . .
“Next June,” Father presently sald,
you and I are going to take a trip.”
“Where? she asked, not caring
very much.
“A fishing trip to Canada.” Fath-
er's volce was excited and pleased.
“Jumping Trout lake. 1 haven't been
there for more than twenty sears.”
“Is it pretty? She wanted to be
interested In Father's lake. But she
wasn't, really. She kept hearing the
Chinese nightingale. Only it wasn't
a nightingale. It was Hugh, taiking
to Celia in the garden . . ,
“Janie! You're crying, Janie”
“No—no, I'm not.”
“There's a tear on your knee”
She saw It, catching the sunlight, a
small round tear on her bare brown
knee,
“What a funny place for a tear!”
She tried very hard to smile,
“Janie—~" Father's voice was very
gentle, “Are you unhappy, dear?
She nodded.
“Why?
She couldn't tell him why. It was
like being happy, mized up with so
many things; being glad to go away,
not caring about Father's lake. Hugh
was In love with Celia. “Darling,
darling, darling, sang the Chinese
nightingale” , , ,
“1 Just feel sad” she sald.
“You care so about things, Janie”
“I wish 1 didn't” She looked up
at him with troubled young eyes.
“It isn't a bad way to be. You are
hurt more often but you enjoy every.
thing more. Remember, Janie, If you
couldn't feel very unhappy, you could
never feel very happy. Do you un-
derstand”
“Yes, Father,"
He talked to her, then, about be-
ing brave and learning something from
all the hurts, It was sad and very
beautiful, She wanted to feel how
much she loved Father, how happy she
would be to camp with him on the
shore of his silver lake, jut she
couldn't, somehow, She kept thinking
of dancing with Hugh, Her heart
grew larger and larger. There was
an aching in her wrists, All of her
was racing forward toward the eve
ning. She didn't want to race away
from Father, It was something she
couldn't help.
Suddenly gullty,
cheek against his knee,
“Why, Janie!"
“1 love you, Father,"
I
Janle dressed with the greatest care.
Filmy underthings, chiffon stockings,
garters with wee pink roses. There
was going to bea moon . . .
She brushed her hair until it shone.
How brown she was! Mother was
right. She did look » a gypsy. If
only she could be !
{ y as Celia!
Just for toni
was
she pressed her
she said.
nirettior
preiues
night she could wes sraelf inside
out!
The creamy dress fron aris. It
was a
she lo
conld borrow
silky golden
it to Cella
ked ratl she
er nice,
Perl
Celin's th
shawl with the
gave
in her room. Janle
where Celia ha gone,
woul
We
! use a litt)
AEE
ht she
re
-
“Next June,” Father Presently
Said, “You and | Are Going to
Take a Trip”
fume,
There
dressing table. Lilies-of-t he valley
“That's how 1 though
Hugh had said, “Lilles a A Va
Janie pushed In the stopper. She
wouldn't touch it, not even a single
drop.
the lot each ear,
Celin's
a drop on
was a new bottle on
ad of
of youn”
Where did Cella keep her shawl?
Janle croesed to the wardrobe. A let-
ter was lying on the floor beside the
cream and ivory desk. Janie recog
nized Muriel's writing. She picked up
the letter, A sentence caught her at-
tention “Carter Shelby had din.
ner with us last night” There
was a mark on the paper, the mark of
a small French heel. It must have
been an angry heel which stamped
with a great deal of force. Even the
nail prints showed,
The shawl was not In the wardrobe
Janie decided not to rummage around.
She could ask Celia Just as well,
Celin was not downstairs,
questioned Mother,
“She went out about three o'clock.”
Mother was setting the table. “Why
are you wearing that dress?”
“Hugh asked me to have supper with
him." Janie spoke the words slowly.
it made them seem more real. “Just
set the table for three.”
“Be home by ten, dear. You'll have
to make an early start In the morn.
ing.”
Tomorrow? There was no tomor-
row, There was only a moon and to-
night . . .
The clock on the landing struck six.
Hugh had not come in. Celin had not
returned. Father came down the
stairs,
“Hasn't Hugh come
asked,
Janie shook her head.
“John Mother sald. “T'm worried
about Celia"
Father was familiar with Mother's
worrying habit,
“She's out on Manor street,” he sald
easily, “or at Rhoda's, perhaps”
“It isn't like her not to tell me,” Moth-
er fretted. "She knows how I worry.
You'd better eat something, Janie.
Goodness knows"
“I'm having supper with Hugh.” Say-
ing the words aloud reassured her.
Janie
in yet? he
She heard less distinctly the clamor
of fear In her heart,
Through the hall, through the living
room, out on the porch, back again
to the hall. The clock on the land
Ing struck seven, Were they together,
Cella and Hugh?
“1 am simply distracted.”
was talking at the ‘phone, “I've called
everybody . Hugh isn't here either.
Well, I had thought of that”
Janle had thought of it, too.
and Celia. Mother was pleased. Why
shouldn't she be? She didn't know
that Janle was being hurt. A small
grave person, silent and tense, on the
Chesterfield in the hall, A frock with
a border of flowers stitched in colors
around the hem, Small kid slippers
that wanted to dance
The fan-light paled from amber to
mauve, the gray of twilight to night.
Mother talked at the telephone
“I'm at the end of my wits 5
Hugh isn’t here,
Mother
Hugh
Hugh with his tumbled hright halr
and his laughing ruddy-hrown eyes,
“Five feet tall, ra
“John,
er expecting the worst
“I'm going ut on
ther small’ . .
* Moth
it's af ine o'clock.’
Manor street”
her an he dod “Yon
at Are!
reach
er's or Leland’s, ant
; 1 br sens m
1% the clock wn a
me like a bur
“Where
cried
been?
“Mother!
Mother's arms
“Oh,
gesture,
Mother!
Ty getting engage
ce that was sole
“That
gers twisting to
Mother was laugh
“Well, Hugh, tl
=
was Hugh!
window
Janie, curled
seat of her own sm
breathles
She couldn't talk to
The happy sound of
more than i bear,
dear,” Hugh was
“Have you gone to bed?”
nothing at all
ig in anyway.” He opened
Janie saw the hs appy shine
in his eyes, She turned her head
“Why are you sitting up here
alone?” he asked with a crinkly smile,
“II'm thinking."
“They're making a fuss downstairs.”
He sat beside her on the window seat,
He was obliged to sit very close. “But
you weren't there”
“Did you miss me, Hugh?”
“Of course 1 missed you,
softly. “I've been searching all over
the house. Why did you run away?
Aren't you glad I'm to be your
brother?”
Janie nodded. In the place where
her heart should have been there was
nothing at all but an ache,
He told her how happy he was He
said lovely things about Celia. He
didn't remember that he had invited
her to have supper with him. He
didn't think that her slippers had
wanted to dance, He didn’t know that
the moon had been waiting all day to
shine for Janie and Hugh. She didn't
tell him, She just looked down from
the window at the blurred yellow
lights in the Square. Hugh was lock.
ing down, too.
“Lord,” he said in a hushed sort of
voice, “the Square is grand tonight.
There was moonlight the night I ar
rived. Do you remember?”
Did she remember? Would she ever
forget as long as she lived?
“We sat under the mulberry trees”
he continued. “I told you an story
about a boy named Hugh"
He talked softly on and on. He did
not appear to notice that Janle said
nothing at all. He was absorbed
in his own great happiness. Janie
forgave him. He didn’t know she was
being hurt. He never, never should
know,
“I didn’t like It at first,” Hugh said
presently. “I thought Tt was pretiy
dreadful. I never dreamed I'd find the
loveliest thing In life right here in
Mulberry Square.”
He didn’t mean a “good little egg”
who had scolded him and taken him
swimming and made him toe the mark.
He didn't mean & brown little girl
named Janie who loved him very
much. He was thinking of Cella all
creamy and golden, pretty selfish
Oelia with her look of a porcelain
saint . . .
“You're quiet, Janie”
bered her after a while,
matter, little fellow?”
.
Mm, was
ahe conld
“Janie,
Janie sald
r
n
“I'm comi
the door.
he said
He remem.
“What's the
Little Fellow!
call her that , , .
“I—1 feel sort of sad
“Why
“leaving, | guess.”
“It won't be long until Christmas”
He lifted her hand. “Here's something
to take with you" He kissed the
palms of her hand and folded her fin-
gers over the kiss to keep It from
slipping away.
Oh, Hugh! But he dic
was hurting her worse than she had
ever been hurt in all her life before.
Oh, dear big laughing Hugh!
“1 want something In exchange”
He tilted her chin. “I want your love
ly smile”
She had to He was looking
at her with eyes that were tender and
teasing. She had to smile. There
were tears on her lashes and a choke
ing lump In ber throat. But somehow,
she managed It—her wide gay gor-
geous smile,
If he just wouldn't
¥
’
in't know he
smile,
Hugh pretended to catch the smile
and tuck it into the pocket over his
it out when It's raini "
turn it on like a moon,
i him,
a kiss in
rown hand
ne
Tie
n
Part Two
CHAPTER 1
all that Janie |}
dge with a cold in
Father had
her life Janie could
when had
thing couldn't
Two
letter
her head.
never been {IL In all
not remember
been (ll. A
happen so
days she
from Father, a
ns for Christ.
Janle would be at home.
y she was going home, a day ahead
time. Midge had read the
sage “Father is IIL. C¢
ohce™
gather ever
as this
received a
letter, full of pla
when
ago
mes.
ome at
She cot
gram was
unf
1dn't believe it. The tele.
in her pocket-book. She
ed the creased yellow sheet and
read the message again. Hugh had
sent it. Hugh! She tried to see Hugh
in her mind; his copper-gold head, his
wide laughing mouth, his eyes that
were the color of sherry wine.
She looked at her hand where Hugh
home,
pink of
even lines, If she could remember
how she had felt that
then she could cry. But she couldn't
remember how she had felt. She
Janle's father was 11 . , .
Christmas! They had made sech
beautiful plans.
her about
and Celia.
going back home,
the feeling
be happy, being engaged to Hugh,
She wrote Janie affectionate letters.
saint, Janie couldn't exactly rejoice.
But she could not mind quite so much
if Celia loved Hugh and both of them
were happy.
TO
AE CONTINUED.
Patron Saint of Lawyers
The American Bar association says
that St. Ives was Helroy Ivo or Yve,
born at Kermartin, Brittany, 17th of
October, 1233. He studied at Paris
and practiced law at Rennes and Ire
quler. Later he studied for the priest.
hood, and after his ordination in 1284
he was parish priest at Tedrez and
Lorrance. He was known as the bish.
ops Judge, interesting himself greatly
in ecclesiastical legal matters. He
was also the lawyer of the poor, strict
ly just and honorable, and, what was
a marvel at that time, strictly Inacces-
gible to bribery. He became in his la.
ter life so full of solicitude for the poor
and helpless that he turned his own
home Into an orphanage. He died
March 10, 1208, at Kermartin. His
relies in the Cathedral of Irequier
were respected and saved In the
French revolution. He was canonized
by Clement VI in 1347, and he was
adopted as the patron saint of lawyers
FINANCE IN THE GULCH
“I'd kind o' like to start a bank,”
sald Cactus Joe,
“A national bank?’ asked the trav-
eling salesman,
“No. 1 don't want to have to "tend
to all that bookkeepin’. What 1 want
to start is a faro bank, where the
boys can come in and their
wages and then forget about "em for-
ever.”
leave
Taken at His Word
Her father snorted ous
contemptn
iy.
“You bave the nerve to coms and
ask me for my daughter's hand
You!” he snapped at the
Bu
shaking
That's so, "
man.
“But she doesn’t
an idiot all her life,” bar
ther,
sir,
to be tied to
ked her fa-
want
, why not let me
said
Stories,
take her off
the suitor coolly
~siray
What,
, Again?
y—Are ng
NOT INFALLIBL E RULE
vor, strike
d a hearty
“It doesn't
Not Hi
Iida
is Fault
fother know
“Yon
with no
business.’
“We 11
when J
a don’t Knovy
Some Compliment
Hostesy—-Deaz, you
nothing
Her "Boy Friend—My pet
look at you it takes my
2WaY,~Chiigen, Record.
ee
are
An Owl, of Course
E nglishm an--What's that
noise 1 ‘ear outside this
night?
American—Why,
Englishman—Of course it is,
‘o's ‘owling?
bloomin®
time of
that's an owl,
but
Looks Like a Habit
“What makes you think P«
marry you?"
“She's married other fellows™
gay will
Antiques
“She's always out to find antiques.”
“Yes, I saw her buying an oid cen
tury plant.”
Watchful
Flubdub—Does your stenog watch
the clock?
Hamfatt—Yes, also the calendar.
y
EVE RYWHERE