SYNOPSIS ——— Mary Loring and her father, Jim, an in. Tree attorney, meet a train which brings his wealthy sister-in-law, unmarried Linnie Cotswell and her friend, Lella Ormsby, di vorcee for a Christmas visit. Waiting at home for them are Mary's mother, ber 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 with 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 rallroad attorney, the fees of which were almost the sole support of his familly. ‘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 finishing it she calls Doctor Cragg, who comes to the book store for a current novel. Falling 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 tc be married the coming 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, with a $100 check for her story, makes her deliriously happy. The other, from her sister, tells her that finan- cial conditions at home are getting worse. The next day, at a party given by her aunt, Mary meets distinguished Jerome Taylor, wealthy middle aged man-about-town, and effusive Count Umberto Balianci. The count's olly manner nauseates her. A note from her father the following day pleads with her not to mention the family's finan. cial pusht to her aunt. After reading it she forces herself to begin work on her next short story, which is more difficult to write than the first. She labors on until her aunt informs her that Count Umberto, Lelia terms a sponger and fortune . is to take them to dinner that eve- ing. He takes them to a garish restaurant in Greenwich Village. That evening Mary sends her story, "Their Son,” to the Na. tional Weekly She goes to see Phillip Buchanan, editor of the National Weekly, to whom she has given her last story. He invites her to lunch. He congratulates her for the simple treatment given the first story, and says that her last offering will receive immediate attention. At lunch she is introduced to attractive Jim Ormsby, Lelia’s former husband. CHAPTER VIi—Continued — ne Mary watched Jim Ormsby as he walked across the room, and finally disappeared through the door into the foyer. She liked his voice, the way he carried his shoulders, the perfect “hang” of his wellcut clothes. He looked just the sort of person whom Lelia might well have loved—whom Lelia might well still love with all her heart. ‘He's very attractive,” she said, more to her- self than to Phillip Buchanan. ‘“‘He's—tops,”’ the man replied al- most belligerently, “and, to my way of thinking, he's been given a dirty deal. His wife divorced him a cou- ple of years ago on what was merely circumstantial evidence. Never gave him a chance to explain; and he was too damned proud to do so later. Seemed to figure that if she didn’t have more faith in him than she appeared to have, he might as well let her go.” Mary leaned across the table. “Is his wife, by any chance, nanmied— Lelia?” she asked excitedly. “Yes,” Buchanan replied, sur- prised, *“it is! Do you know her?” “Well, rather! In fact, she’s a sort of cousin of mine, and she's visiting Aunt Linnie right now!" “Oh, Lord! I hope I haven't said anything I shouldn't have!” “No, Mr. Buchanan, not at all.— By the way, isn’t it time we were leaving?” Buchanan looked at his watch. “Yes, it is. How are you going up- town?" Mary smiled at him. “Literally, in the bus,’ she replied. *“"Meta- phorically, on wings. You see, I'm terribly excited over this assignment you've given me, and I'll do my best to make good.” Buchanan motioned to Alphonse, glanced over the check, and, leav- ing some bills on the table, indicat- ed to Mary that he was ready to leave. ‘You'll hear from us as soon as we've made a decision on ‘Their Son,’ Miss Loring,” he said when they reached the foyer. ‘Thanks for lunching with me.” Mary extended a gloved hand. “Thanks for asking me,” she re- plied, her eyes dancing. “I loved it,"although I confess you had me stymied for a while.” “‘Stymied?’”” the man replied. “Stymied! What do you mean?” But she was out of the door now, and either did not hear him, or else would not turn around. Her heart was lighter than it had been in weeks, and her feet barely touched the pavement as she fled down the steps and turned up Fifth Avenue. CHAPTER VII Lelia Ormsby was seated at the desk by the east window in the liv- ing room when Mary returned to Miss Cotswell’'s apartment. “Ma. ry?" she called, hearing the click of a key in the latch. “Yes, Lelia. Where are you?” “Right here in the living room, having a perfect whirl for myself, studying all the travel literature I can find about the tropics. There's a boat sailing for the West Indies March fifteenth, and I believe that'd be just about right for our trip.” Mary came into view, her eyes wide and starry, her face flushed. “Good heavens!” cried Lelia. “What in the world have you been doing? You look as if you'd caught the world by the tail! I've never seen anybody quite so—aglow! Did you see Mr. Buchanan?” Mary fell into the cushions of the lounge and prepared to relax in comfort. “That's just it, Lelia,” she replied, her voice husky with excitement. ‘I not only saw Mr. Buchanan, but he took me to lunch at the Lafayette. And, Lelia, he wants me to write a series of ‘shorts’ for his magazine." “Darling! That's wonderful! Did he mention the delicate subject of pay?” “Yes, Lel, he did! He's going to increase the size of the checks as time goes on, providing, of course, my stuff clicks with the public. I'm so happy. You can't imagine what it means to me.” “It means,’ Lelia said, her blue eyes serious, ‘‘that ‘At Sea’ must be a darned good tale, and that Phillip Buchanan feels he's made another of his well-known finds! Congratula- tions, my dear. By the way, how did you like Phil Buchanan?" “I liked him—well enough,” Mary replied, “but he acted as if he were bored to death with every word 1 uttered, and he looked at his watch at least six times." “Oh, well,”’ chuckled Lelia, a busy man.” ‘“Lelia,’”” Mary began. “Yes?” replied Lelia, not looking up. “Lelia, ~I—I—met today.” The older girl did not move, but Mary could see a deep red slowly rising to the nape of her neck. “He's a friend of Phil Buchanan's,” Lelia returned evenly, her attention ap- parently riveted on a colorful pic- ture of the race course at Havana. “Yes,” Mary returned. ‘‘He asked Mr. Buchanan to spend the week-end at his house in Connecti- cut.” Lelia turned about, a little smile twisting her lips, her eyes as blue and unfathomable as a wintry sea. “That house in Connecticut is— “he is Jim Ormsby “Yes,” Buchanan replied, sur- prised, “it is! Do you know her?” sweet. White clap-board, and sort of straggling all over the side of the hill, and a fireplace in every room. We lived there most of the time, Jim and 1." There was a revealing nostalgia in Lelia’s tones as she spoke of the home she and Jim had shared to- gether, and Mary, sensing the ache that lay beneath those words, longed to rush to her and place sympathetic arms about her shoulders. Instead, she continued to stand by the win- dow. “He's attractive, Lelia.” “Yes,” Lelia replied dully. “There has never been anyone else like him in my life. And, Mary, there never will be. Did he seem well, and— and happy?” “1 saw him for just an instant, Le- lia,” Mary countered, wishing she had more to tell the other woman. “He merely ¢ame to our table at the Lafayette, and spoke to Mr. Buchanan about going to Connecti- cut for the week-end. Hp said two other men whose names I don’t re- member were to be in the party, and that they'd play Badminton and Bridge.” A second of silence followed, bro- ken finally by Mary. “Was there any mail for me, Lelia, in the eleven o'clock delivery?” Lelia's shoulders jerked, as if she had been abruptly jarred out of a reverie. “Yes, 1 believe there's a letter from Hawkinsville. And, by the way, there's a box of something or other for you, delivered about an hour ago by a Western Union boy. Looks like candy, and I hope it is, I'm perishing for the want of a chocolate-covered mint.” “The letter from home “can wait an instant,” Mary thought. ‘At Jean, until I see what's in this pack- a She untied the ribbon, and tore away the glossy orange tissue that covered the box. An envelope-gn- closed card, tipped from its position by her eager fingers, fell to the floor. Stooping, she picked it up and read, ‘Fruits from Italy to a lovely lady, with the felicitations and adoration of Umberto.” “Just so much-—eyewash!' she told herself. “The man scarcely knows me. I'll give the stuff to Addie. Maybe she'll like it.” Then with a commingling of ea- gerness and apprehension, she opened the letter from Ellen. Mary dear: There's really not a thing to tell you, but I know that you worry when you don't hear from home every now and then, so am writing anyhow, Dad still hasn't been able to make any connections, Mother is getting thin. ner every day from worry, and Aunt Mamie goes sadly about with the usual chip on her shoulder. She has taken to referring wistfully to one Harry Archer who visited at Grandfather's house twen- ty-five years ago, intimating that ke was desperately in love with her, and that it was just too bad she didn’t marry him. I asked Dad on the Q. T. if the guy really had been in love with her, and he replied that if he was, he managed to exert wonderful self-control. All Dad can remember about Harry Archer's visit was that there had been two pie- nics at Hick's Bluff, and, in both cases, Harry had to be hit over the head with a club in order to get him even to go through the motions of being Aunt Ma. mie's escort. Browns Business College have put me first on their list for any possible job that may present itself, but I'm afraid the chances aren't so hot, I hope you're having a wor nderful time. Have you seen Radio City yet? Give my love to Aunt Linnie and Lelia. Devoledly, ) t Ig Ber to Hawkinsy end of the week. Everybody's dy see what she's like ing to For an instant, the room went quite black before Mary's eves, and it was only with supreme effort that she kept from slumping to the floor. So, Chris had married, after all! Of course, he had told her that he was going to. Of course, he had been honor-bound to carry through; yet all along, there had smoldered in the back of her mind the thought, “If he really loves me, he won't marry Ilsa. He can't! He'll surely tell her that he loves someone else —that his marriage to her can’t go through!" gone through—last Saturday! had now been married for five days. With fingers that seemsad numb, she picked Ellen's letter up, tore it into tiny pieces, and dropped it into the waste basket. How surprised Ellen would have been script! "Thank God,” Mary thought gratefully, “nobody—not even Ellen ~knows how desperately I care for Chris! at all!” At last, she turned from the dress- ing-table, and moved toward the bed. Blindly, she dropped to the bed, heediess of the satin spread that covered it, and lay there in a disconsolate heap, like a child that has been sent to his nursery for punishment. At last, the tears be- the coverlet, she buried her face against the protecting privacy of the pillow, and gratefuily iet them fall. She did not know how long she had fallen outside when Lelia finally were here!’ she said, glimpsing the “Have you been asleep?” Mary sat up, trying to avert her haggard face from Lelia’s gaze. “Yes,” she lied. “I was asleep. What time is it, Lelia?" “Six o'clock, darling. Hadn't you better start dressing? This is the night you and Linnie are going to Jerry Taylor's, isn't it? He's send- ing the car for you, Mary?" “Yes?” *“l wish you'd wear my ermine wrap tonight. It would look simply ravishing on you, and [I know Aunt Linnie wants you to appear particu- larly beautiful. person, you know-—even though he is, in my humble opinion, the worst sort of renegade.” “But, Lelia,” Mary demurred. “1 might get it soiled or tear it." “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. I want you to wear it. It'll look di- vine with that silver-threaded eve- ning frock of yours.” “All right,” Mary replied listless- ly. “Thank you." But she was think- ing, “What difference does it make how I look? What difference does anything make. Chris is married.” Three-quarters of an hour later, Mary, a transformed person, stood before the mirror of the dressing- table. The hot bath and icy shower had brought life and color back to her weary body; miraculously wiped from her face the ravages of sor- row. Lelia had dusted just enough She picked Ellen's letter up and tore it into tiny pieces. rouge over the soft curve of her cheeks to disguise their pallor. Her lace frock clung lovingly to her an eddy Three orchids of deep purple perched lightly on her left shoulder, and now and then smoothed their soft petals against her cheek. Addie had just brought them in with the announcement that Mr. Taylor's chauffeur had deliv- ered them, and that Mr. Taylor's » door. “Well, if you ain't a dream!" Ad- die cried. “Why, honey, you look like a princess.” Mary, suddenry aware that, had for Lelia, she would never have been able to dress that evening-that Lelia had practical ly pulled her together—turned impul- sively and kissed the other girl on cheek. “Thank you, Lelia. You've been sweet to me tonight. You're always sweet to me.” Linnie Cotswell, locking handsome in a trailing gown of maroon-colored appeared in the doorway. “Ready, Mary? Why, my dear, you're a dream! I didn't know my PROVING IT The customer proved most exact. bag. “Quite, madam,” was the reply. that crocodile.” “Yes, madam,” replied the assist- “That's where the animal i Doubly Unfortunate The vicar had received a couple Finding that he friends and said: ‘An unfortunate al fruit!” that followed. It was like a hectic rome Taylor himself, lape}; always at her side, always looking at her with admiring eyes. tune of “September in the Rain,” throat that could not be swallowed, and thoughts, unforgettable thoughts, of Christopher Cragg! (TO BE CONTINUED) Of all the Buddhistic remains in Java the Temple of Boroboedoer is the most famous. It dates from the Eighth or the Ninth century and is built of vol- canic stone over a huge mound, the latter forming the core of the stupa and being inclosed by four sculp- tured galleries, on the tops of which are three terraces, the uppermost being surmounted by a central da- goba. Each of the four sides of this immense structure measures 530 feet and there are something like two miles of bas-reliefs and carvings on the walls of the gal leries. According to legend, relates a writer in the Los Angeles Times, Borboedoer was built to win the af. fection of a capricious young wom- an. She insisted that her lover, an architect, should design, construct and complete the finest temple on earth as a wedding gift to her with- in the space of 12 months: She stip- ulated that it should be perfect in every detail. All this the energetic youth prom- ised, as he was very much enam- ored of the young woman. Being wealthy and closely allied to the ruling powers of the country he was able to enlist the services of thousands of men from near and afar. The greatest sculptors and builders of the time were pressed into service, a year of high-pressure construction resulting. At the close of 12 months the temple was completed. The archi- tect conducted his lady love upon a tour of inspection, watching all the time the glistening sparkle in her eye. But the sparkle was not for him. She had set her mind upon finding a defect and this caused the smile that gave a light to her gazing. Coming at last to the end of the tens of thousands of figures decorat- ing the walls and terraces she found one statue that was anfinished. Whereupon she coldly reminded her lover that her conditions had not been fulfilled--left him and later married a more favored youth. Builder Becomes Saint Pagodas, religious shrines, are to be found in every village in Burma, for the building of a shrine there makes one a saint on earth, and one is certain to enter Nirvana when he dies if only he builds one, attending the opera tonight; could you use the tickets?’ “We should be glad to do so,” was the reply, “but we are your unfortunate hosts.” London Tit- Bits. NATURALLY “What did you do when he kissed you?" “Sat on him, of course.” Easing the Blow A very valuable dachshuna, owned by a wealthy woman, was run over. The policeman detailed a man to tell the woman of her misfortune. “But break the news gently,” he said. "She thinks a lot of this dog." The man rapped on the mansion door and, when the woman ap- peared, he said: “Sorry, lady, but part of your dog has been run over.” Initials - “We have a great many initials in evidence in government affairs.” “Yes,” answered Senator Sor- ghum, “but the possibilities of the alphabet are enormous. Some day mind where we can boil everything down to ‘O. K' and let it go at that.” The Poet's when 1 begin thing On spring, Mentioning the shining green that now is seen— It's mean; Then the weather boils my blood, for 1 strike with slushy thud The mud! Woes Just to sing a little A Faux Pas Mrs. I sent a lovely piece of cut glass for a gift, and she never even thanked me. In fact, she snubbed me on the street today. Mrs, Thom-—Why, didn't Mrs. Green—Know what? Mrs. Thom-—Her grandfather be- You Figure It Out “My man," your sister has sworn she has two. Now, which is the truth?” Pear son's. LOGICAL REASON Library Attendant — You must make less noise, you're disturbing the other readers. 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Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers