SH
SYNOPSIS
—
Mary Loring and her father, Jim, an in-
effectual attorney, meet a train which brings
his wealthy sister-in-law, unmarried Linnie
Cotswell and her friend, Lelia Ormsby. di-
vorcee, for a Christmas visit. Waiting at
tome for them are Mary's mother, her
younger sister, Ellen; her father's nagging
maiden sister, Aunt Mamie, and Peter, the
baby of the family. At the depot Dr.
Christopher Cragg helps the guests with
their luggage. Mary is secretly in love witth
Doctor Cragg. In leaving, her Aunt Linnie
urges Mary to visit her in New York, but
Mary refuses, Mary works in a rental U-
brary, where she spends her spare time
writing short stories. Mary's father is let
out as rafroad attorney, the fees of which
were almost the sole support of his family.
To earn money she decides to begin writ.
ing in earnest. Mary feels sure that
her newest story, ‘At Sea,'' would please
the editors of National Weekly. After fin
ishing it she calls Doctor Cragg, who comes
to the book store for a current novel. Fall
ing from a ladder while getting his book,
she regains consciousness to find his arms
around her. He tells her he loves her, and
then tells her he is to be married the com-
ing month to a girl he has known all his
life. Despondent, ‘Mary decides to accept
her Aunt Linnie's invitation. In New York
her aunt laughs at her for her plans to
write, and insists that she meet as many
eligible men as possible. The new week
brings two letters. One, from the National
Weekly.
CHAPTER IV—Continued
malian
Almost afraid to touch the letter,
vet frantic to know its contents,
Mary picked it up, and feverishly
slashed it open. A sheet of paper,
folded twice, dropped out, and
glancing toward the bathroom, hop-
ing Lelia would not come out until
after she had read whatever news
the letter held for her, Mary started
to flatten it out. At last, her fingers
ceased their stupid trembling! At
last—
It was a check on the Corn Ex-
change Bank of New York, and it
read:
New York, January 22nd, 1937
Pay to the order of Mary Loring..
$100.00
One Hundred and no-100 .. Dollars
The National Weekly
“Telia!” Mary shrieked, rushing
towards the bathroom and pound-
ing on the door. “Lelia! Lelial”
Lelia, a bathrobe of Turkish tow-
eling wrapped hastily about her,
opened the door. ‘What's happened,
Mary?” she demanded apprehen-
sively. ‘Have you had bad news?”
Mary pirouetted about on her silly
silver-and-scarlet sandals, and
waved her precious bit of paper in
the air. “Bad news!” she cried.
“Darling, it's good news! Grand
news! The best I've ever had! Lelia,
my story's been accepted by The
National Weekly, and they've sent
me a check for a hundred dollars.”
“Mary! That's wonderful! Con-
gratulations, darling. I'm proud of
you."
“What in the world is going on?”
demanded Linnie Cotswell, crossing
the hall from her own bedroom.
Mary rushed towards her aunt
and engulfed her in a bear-like em-
brace. “Aunt Linnie, my story, ‘At
Sea,” has been accepted, and the
magazine's sent me a check for a
hundred dollars. Just think of it!
A hundred dollars!”
“But,” Linnie Cotswell demurred,
her speech somewhat hampered by
the chin-strap that bound up her
face, “why didn’t they write to you
first and make you an offer, in-
stead of just taking it for granted
that a hundred dollars was satis-
factory to you?”
Mary looked dubious. ‘Perhaps
that’s their regular price for a
short short-story.”
Stooping, Mary retrieved from the
floor the letter which had accompa-
nied the check, and hastily glanced
through it. ‘They say they like
‘At Sea’ very much,’”’ she murmured
as she scanned the typed lines, ‘and
they want to see more of my work.
Work! Doesn’t that sound profes-
sional? A man named Buchanan,
Phillip Buchanan, has signed it.”
“I know Phil Buchanan,” Lelia
offered casually, returning to the
bathroom, and reaching for a gold-
and-white box of bath powder.
“No!” Mary exclaimed. “Not
really! What is he like? Terribly
learned, and everything?”
“Terribly — human,” Lelia re-
turned. “And utterly wrapped up
in his work. He started The Na-
tional Weekly about twelve years
ago, soon after he graduated from
Harvard, and he's built it up until
today it's just about the biggest
thing in weekly magazines. The cir-
culation is enormous, you know."
“Is he married?” Aunt Linnie in-
quired.
“You would ask that!” Lelia re-
plied, chuckling with amicable de-
rision as she started to close the
bathroom door. “No, Linnie. He's
wedded to his magazine and, from
all I hear, he wouldn't consider be-
ing dragged to the altar by anybody
on earth.”
“I'm merely interested in Life as
it should be led,” Aust Linnie re-
torted with mock wistfulness as she
left the room, the little train of her
satin negligee swishing about her
heels.
Mary, left alone, fingered her
check from The National Weekly
with loving fingers. ‘I've finally
written a story that was good
enough for someone to buy,” she
told herself with awe. ‘Now I'm
started on my life's work.”
Opening the top drawer of the
dressing table, she extracted the
new brown suede purse Aunt Linnie
had just given her, opened it, and
slipped the check inside the zippered
pocket. Then, turning eagerly to-
wards the bed, she picked up EI-
len’'s letter.
Darling Mary, we do miss you so.
The house seems so dull without you,
and poor Dad appears absolutely lost.
You see, he has always depended on
you more than anyone élse, and while I
try my best to take your place, we both
know it isn't quite the same.
Well, Mother has heard about his dis-
missal and the shock of the discovery
has gone rather tragically for all of us.
It happened this way. She was buying
some tape in the notion department at
Sullivan and Ourwerda's, and Miss Pat-
tie Carson came in to get some thread,
and breezed right up to Mother with,
“Oh, Janet, 1 want to tell you how sorry
I am about Jim's losing his position.”
And right before all the clerks!
Mother hadn't the vaguest notion what
she was talking about, and although
Miss Pattie’'s remark almost made her
faint, she managed to hold her head up
and smile, and say, "Why, Miss Pattie,
Jim just had to resign because his pri.
vate business is demanding so much of
his time."
Then, she paid for the tape, and
walked out of the store as calmly as she
could, but as soon as she got past the
fairly ran up
store window, she
“It is an ambition attained,”
he replied in a voice that struck
Mary as being too soft.
Dad's office, and demanded an explana.
tion. And when darling Dad admitted
the whole thing, she fainted, and he and
I had a dreadful time bringing her back
to consciousness.
Mother says we'll have to let Phrony
go, and, no doubt, we will In time, and
Aunt Mamie says she can't do a lick of
work, what with her arthritis or neuritis,
or whatever it is she's supposed to be
having this winter.
And what do you A report's
going around town that Christopher
Cragg's going to be married soon—io a
girl he's known for some time. Her
name's Iisa Graceland, and she's the
daughter of a Chicago doctor. Have you
heard anything about it? Everybody
seems awfully surprised, and really, for
a bridegroom to-be, I must say Chris
doesn’t look particularly radiant,
Darling, do you love New York? Deo
write me about everything.
Give my love to Aunt Linnie and
Lelia, but save most of it for yourself.
Mary, so blinded by tears that she
could scarcely see, folded the letter,
and tucked it beneath the pile of
handkerchiefs in the little right-hand
drawer of the highboy. Lelia was
coming into the room, and she must
not see her tears.
Mary, her back to the other girl,
hurriedly applied a handkerchief to
her eyes; then, with apparent casu-
alness, reached for the powder puff
and dusted it over her straight little
nose. “I shall get that check
cashed tomorrow,” she said to her-
self. “Aunt Linnie’ll tell me where
to go. And I'll send all but fifteen
dollars of it to Dad. Something will
have to be kept out for my pocket
money. Poor Dad. Oh, poor, dear
Dad!”
’
A thin blue haze of cigarette
smoke hung like a delicate cloud
over Linnie Cotswell’'s living room,
and the smell of tobacco, Ophelia
roses, and the last word in imported
perfumes filled the air. It was Sun-
day afternoon, and Linnie's friends
were dropping in to meet Mary Lor-
ing.
Miss Cotswell flitted about from
guest to guest, exchanging a wel-
coming word here, a bantering sen-
tence there. Lelia Ormsby presid-
ed over a silver tea service that had
once belonged to a Russian grand
duke; while Mary remained en-
trenched behind a group of men in
front of the fireplace.
“And why has Linniz kept you a
secret all this time?’ a tall man
with a gardenia in the buttonhole of
his gutaway coat was saying. “I,
for one, demand an apology. To
think you've been walking in beauty
all these years, and I've been to-
tally unaware of your existence!”
He was a distinguished-looking
person, with pepper-and-salt hair
and that intriguing assurance of
manner which only those who al-
ways get what they go after pos-
sess. Mary cudgeled her memory
for his name. Taylor! That was it
~Taylor., Jerome Taylor.
She smiled back at him mocking-
. "All this time, and all these
years!” she quoted. “Aren't you
making me fearfully old—almost
passee
Jerome Taylor held a cocktail
glass, frosted with sugar, to the lev-
el of his laughing eyes. ‘‘My dear,”
he said softly, lifting the glass in an
almost imperceptible toast to her,
‘“‘you are ageless!”
“Fol-de-rol!” commented Linnie
Cotswell, pushing her way towards
Mary, a dark, intense young man in
tow. “Jerome, don’t be trying any
of your well-known allure on this
child of mine. She's far too young
and sweet to be contaminated.”
“Linnie, my darling,” Jerome
Taylor returned, completely un-
abashed, blatantly amicable, ‘“‘for-
get, for a moment, how violently
you disapprove of me, and te]l me
which night this week I may enter-
tain you and Mary Loring at dinner.
Any night, dear Linnie. Any spot.
Any play.”
“Hush, Jerry. I'll tell you later.
Right now, I want to introduce Bali-
anci to my niece.”
“I await with eagerness that pains
—with impatiénce that sears,” the
young Italian announced oratorical-
ly, attempting to wither Jerome
Taylor with a glance.
“Mary,” said Aunt Linnie, trying
to control the corners of her mouth,
“this is Count Umberto Balianci.
Balianci, Miss Loring.” Then, turn-
ing to Jerome Taylor, "Trot along
to the tea table, Jerry. Lelia hasn't
been able to coerce anybody except
the Bishop's wife into taking a cup
of tea. Even the Bishop balked!"
Aunt Linnie's sentence was
drowned in a roar of laughter from
that corner of the room where Judge
Byford was holding forth; and Mary
suddenly realized that her hand was
still clasped in Balianci's, and that
his grip was unpleasantly moist.
“How do you do?" she remarked in-
adequately, smiling at the hand-
some, dark person whose gaze upon
her had never flinched.
“It is an ambition attained,” he
replied in a voice that struck Mary
as being too soft, almost oily.
“An ambition attained?” she re-
peated uncomprehendingly.
“But yes!" he returned with fer-
vor. “I saw you at the Stork Club
two nights ago, and, since that mo-
ment my eyes fell upon you, it has
been my ambition, my sole thought,
to meet you.”
Mary felt a little dazed. A fixed
little smile forced itself to her lips.
The man was still devouring her
with his somber eyes, all the while
extracting a flat, gold case from
an inner pocket, removing a cork-
tipped cigarette, lighting it, and ex-
haling a puff of heavily scented
smoke. “Egyptian cigarettes,”
thought Mary. “That heavy fra-
grance makes me a little sick.”
Aloud, she said inanely, “I didn't
see you at the Stork Club.”
“One does not expect a queen to
notice a serf,"” purred Balianci.
Mary thought perhaps she was
going to scream. When would this
asininity ever end?
bid her good-by. "We're seeing each
other Wednesday evening,” he told
her. “Linnie has actually agreed
to let me have a little party for
you. Dinner at my house, and, aft-
erwards, seats for ‘High Tor."
As for Balianci, he left ten min-
utes later, and too, wedged his way
Again, he took Mary's hand in his
damp grip, and focused the full
warmth of his brooding gaze upon
her. “Fate is being kind to me,”
he said softly. “We are meeting
again very soon.”
He was gone before Mary could
reply, and with an ague of repul-
sion, she thought, "Good heavens,
has Aunt Linnie made an engage-
ment with him, too?”
Later, when the guests were gone,
and Addie and Louella were putting
the apartment to order, and open-
ing the windows to let in the crisp
February night air, Aunt Linnie in-
formed Mary that she had indeed
made an engagement for her with
Count Balianci. “He wants to take
us to dinner Tuesday evening,”’ she
said.
Lelia, nibbling a much-needed
sandwich, turned swiftly about.
“Not me!” she said sharply. “I
yout go anywhere with that gigo-
ol’
‘““He’s not a gigolo, Lelia!” Linnie
replied almost angrily. “I don’t
know why you're so suspicious of all
foreigners with titles. Besides, he—
he didn't ask you.”
“He knows I wouldn't be seen
with him!” Lelia retorted, sinking
into the depths of a chair, and kick-
ing off her high-heeled pumps.
“Well, you've snubbed him so
often,” Linnie admitted, ‘‘that, no
doubt, he's finally taken the hint.
But, after all, he is a charming per-
son, and a perfectly legitimate
count.”
“As if that meant anything these
days!" Lelia retorted.
“1 want Mary to have every op-
portunity,” Linnie went on, “and
after all, Umberto has a title, goes
everywhere, belongs to one of the
oldest Italian families. In fact, he's
a sort of cousin of the king's.”
“He might travel faster if he were
a cousin of II Duce's,’” Lelia ob-
served icily.
‘“‘He's terribly taken with Mary,”
Linnie continued happily, “and real-
ly, it would be rather fun for
her to be the wife of a diplomat.”
“I'm not at all interested in mar-
riage, Aunt Linnie,”” Mary said
harshly, her heart contracting as
she thought of Chris. “All that I
care about ig writing—and making
a lot of money in the quickest pos-
sible time. In fact, I'm starting a
new ‘short’ tomorrow morning.”
Miss Cotswell rose from her chair,
and started towards the hall which
led to her bedroom. “All right,
Mary,” she said coldly. “I'll leave
you to your own devices for a few
days, knowing only two well that
you'll soon get over this foolishness
about being a woman with a career.
Every young girl who comes to
New York entertains that complex
for a while—and then eventually
reaches the sane conclusion that,
after all, marriage is the one and
only thing for a woman."
Mary leaped to her feet, and
rushed to embrace her aunt
“Please don't think I'm ungrateful,
Aunt Linnie, for all that you're do-
ing for me. I appreciate everything,
absolutely everything. And thank
you, darling, for the wonderful par-
ty."
Linnie Cotswell, restored to good
humor, brushed Mary's cheeks with
her lips. “All right, my dear. As
for your working on one of your lit-
tie stories, you just start right in to-
morrow. I, for one, hope to sleep all
day."
CHAPTER V
Mary woke with a start at seven
the next morning, and, for an in-
stant, lay in her comfortable bed
wondering just where she was. At
home in Hawkinsville? And was the
slim figure beneath the covers in the
other twin bed that of Ellen? Then,
as consciousness came fully upon
her, she realized that she was in
ment, and that the sleeping girl
beside her was Lelia Ormsby.
hand, a third piece of jam-covered
toast in the other, that
brought in the mail.
me, Addie?’ she asked.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Anticosti, now an island append-
age to Quebec, has changed hands
many times in its career, says the
National Geographic society. Last
leased in 1926 by a pulp and paper
company, it has served—in reverse
order—as a pulpwood empire, a rich
man’s social experiment, a pirale’s
stronghold and an explorer’s re-
ward.
Roughly in the shape of a great
whale, its tail in the St. Lawrence
river and its head in the Gulf of St.
Lawrence, Anticosti island is about
140 miles long and averages 35 miles
across. It is a sportsman's para-
dise. Great forests of spruce bring
green down to its very shores; game
fish fill its streams, and flocks of
ducks and geese stop off there regu-
larly on flights north and south. So
conspicuously placed and accessible
is it that for the last 400 years this
island has been the scene of man’s
activities and experiments. It has
known business booms and coloni-
zation schemes that failed. It has
seen the fashionable chateau life of
a French ‘chocolate king” and been
the haunt of an eccentric charged
with being not only a buccaneer but
in league with the devil besides.
In 1534 Jacques Cartier, seeking
that mythical short cut to the East,
first officially recorded the island
and called it “Ile de I’Assomption.”
Already. however, Basque fisher.
men, familiar with this region from
early fishing trips, had described it
as ‘“Antecosta,” or island ‘‘before
the coast’’—the name which still
sticks, slightly changed in spelling.
In 1630 a grateful king, Louis XIV
of France, presented Anticosti to
the explorer-trader, Louis Joliet,
who with Father Marquette had
sailed the Mississippi end later ex-
plored Hudson bay for his country.
For a decade Joliet enjoyed fur and
fish trade with nearby Indians, un-
til he and his wife were made pris-
oners by Sir William Phipps’ raiding
party in the current French-Eng-
lish conflict. Tradition says that
Joliet was eventually exchanged and
returned to his island home. At any
rate, during the next century fami-
ly heirs, squatters and other ciaim-
ants disputed its possession.
Boasting of Power
“We find,” said Hi Ho, the sage
of Chinatown, ‘“‘that we lose much
strength in boasting of power, which
would be great if we only held a
fraction of what we mention.”
Little
Bit
YUM! YUM!
Fulton Oursler passes along the
tale of a tough customer who
stormed into a barroom, ordered a
chewed up the glass. He ordered
“Nothing,” the humble citizen re-
part.”
Reckless Spending
the more extravagant.
travagance,”” said he scornfully.
“When did 1 ever make a useless
purchase?”’
extinguisher you bought last year.
We never used it once, not once.”
SUBSTITUTE
“Did you get an imported hat this
year?"
for the lining."
At the Sales Conference
Sales Manager—Now, gentlemen,
in closing, let me repeat the words
of Webster.
Salesman—Come on, fellows, let's
go. He's starting in on the diction-
ary.
Water Sprite
Girl—-You can swim, can't you?
Smart Boy—Only at times.
Girl—-What times?
Smart Boy—When I'm in the wa-
ter.
Flavoring
“Sugar?”
“No, thank you.”
“Then what do you like with your
tea?”
“Gossip.”
If You Want to Know
Mr. White—When I was your age,
I thought nothing of chopping wood
Oliver—l1 don’t think so much of
the idea myself.
Considerate
Student—I don’t think I deserve a
zero.
Professor—Neither do I, but it's
the lowest mark I'm allowed to give.
Skip It!
“Yes, your lordship,
Thoughtful Betty
Teacher—Betty, spell bird cage.
Betty—B-1-R-D hyphen C-A-G-E,
Teacher—Why the hyphen?
Betty—For the bird to sit on.
Very Neat
Customer—I thought I saw some
soup on the bill of fare.
Waiter—There was some, but I
wiped it off.
“Smith has moved away from that
house he was living in. Hae says it
was haunted.”
“And so it was. His creditors
were hanging around there day and
night.”
It Comes With Time
Elderly Sister—So Mr. Goldkatch
said I had teeth like pearis? And
what did you say?
Young Brother—O nothing; except
that you were gradually getting
used to them.
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Write for information Bookiet, It's FREE
Ask Me Another
@® A General Quiz
The Questions
What is a party of lions
hat is the difference be-
typhoon and a tycoon?
oes nicotine stain the fingers
ye lio Ww ?
4, What animal skeleton is kept
in the bathroom?
5. Who was the author of the
| phrase “entangling alliances’?
is correct, “Drive
' or “Drive slowly’?
7. Which is the darkest hour a
night?
The Answers
A pride.
The first is a type of cyclone.
A tycoon is an important person
in business.
3. No. Nicotine is colorless; the
yellow is tobacco tar.
4. Most people keep a sponge in
the bathroom, which really is the
skeleton of a very energetic
mal, usually found by divers in
the sea.
5. Thomas Jefferson.
8. “Drive slowly” is better Eng-
lish, although *‘Drive slow’ is gen-
erally accepted as correct,
7. The Naval observatory says
that no light is received from the
sun when it is 18 degrees or mor
| below the horizon, and during
those hours there is no hour that
| is regularly the darkest.
1.
2.
ie
ii
lished fatal traffic accident
| summaries for the year, 21 classi-
| fied more drivers as “exceeding
| the speed limit" or “driving too
| fast for conditions’ than were
| charged with any other kind of
| improper driving.
| All 28 states combined, says the
National Safety council, in its 1938
| edition of ‘“‘Accident Facts,” re-
| ported about 18 per cent of the
drivers in fatal accidents and
about 9 per cent of the drivers in
non-fatal accidents were in this
category.
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