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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 10, 1935)
THERE’S 7$ ALWAYS * ANOTHER YEAR MARTHA OSTENSO |W.M.U. SERVICE COPYRIGHT MARTHA OSTtNSO | SYNOPSIS The little town of Heron River Is •eagerly awaiting the arrival of An na ("Silver") Grenoble, daughter of ^‘Gentleman Jim," formerly of the •community, but known as a gam bler, news of whose recent murder In Chicago has reached the tpwn, Sophronia Willard, Jim Grenoble's sister, with whom the girl is to live, Is at the depot to meet her. So phronia's household consists of her husband, and stepsons, Roderick and Jason. The Willards own only half of the farm on which they live, the other half being Anna Gren oble’s. On Silver's arrival Duke Mel bank, shiftless youth, makes him self obnoxious. Roderick is on the «ve of marriage to Corinne Meader, daughter of a failed banker. Silver declares her eagerness to live on the farm, and says she has no intention of selling her half, which the Wil lards had feared. She meets Roddy, by chance, that night. He is some what distant. Silver tells Sophronia (“Phronie," by request) something— but by no means all—of her rela tions with Gerald Lucas, gambler friend of her father. CHAPTER IV—Continued —5-— ‘They’re all In there, too. That corn he grew last year was two weeks earlier than anything else In the district. Now he’s crossin’ It with a good yielder to bring it up to where It’ll grow as much to the acre as the other stuff. Oh. I don’t pretend to know half of what he’s talkin’ about, let alone what he’s doin’." Jason came down the slope from the barn, and Silver slipped out to fetch Roddy. She stood hesitantly for a mo ment in the open doorway of his workshop, and watched him where he bent over a long plank table. On each of a half dozen white paste board cards on the table there was a sprinkling of what seemed to be corn kernels, and so intent was Roddy on the specimens before him that he was unaware of her until she spoke. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Roddy,’’ Silver said, “but supper’s ready.” “Oh!’’ He glanced up absently. Then his gaze seemed to become ar rested upon her; but she knew that it was the concentrated stare of a person whose thoughts are hard on something else. “That ought to work!’’ he exclaimed under his breath, and she saw him go to a fil ing cabinet in a corner, remove a sheaf of papers and jot down some memorandum. Silver was about to turn away when he called her. “Why don’t you come in and look this place over?” he Inquired. “Girls are usually bored with it— but since you have an interest in it—” He lnughed in an odd way and came toward her. ‘Td love to know all about it,” she said as she glanced around the room. “But Phronie is waiting for us. Couldn’t we come in later?” “Well," he replied apologetically, “I’ve got to go to town for a hair cut—and I have my packing to do yet tonight. But Jason can show you around," he went on hastily. They had come to the screen door of the kitchen, and Jason opened it for them. • “You don’t seem to be In any hurry to come to the ‘last supper,’ ’’ Jason remarked drily. “None of your Irreverence, young man!’’ Roddy cried, and prodded his brother Jovially In the ribs. “You have a serious job on your hands tonight. You’ve got to show this child my lair—and your own. Her mind has a scientific as well as on artistic turn—eh. what. Silver?” He grasped the soft coll of hair at the nape of her neck and gave it a playful tug. A misty sensation of gratitude, of deep, quivering happiness pervaded Silver as she partook of the simple meal with these people who were, through Sophroniu, closer to her than anyone else on earth. But far down, underneath, there was a stir ring of something uncertain, some thing winged and light and strange. She found herself wondering, time after time, what kind of person Roddy Willard would bring home as his wife. • • • • • • • “My G—d!” Jason said, peering out through the muslin curtains of the sitting room in the old house. “They have a retinoo!” Silver, standing at his elbow, looked at the people getting out of Roddy’s car. She clasped Jason's arms. “The big girl must be a servant, Jason," she said. “Phronle told me Corinne was small.” “Sure,” he replied. “That’s Co riune with the fox fur on Kind o’ warm for It, but I guess it’s the style. She’s pretty. Isn’t she? But that other one—say! She looks like a Mackintosh Red!’’ “We must go up and meet them Jason,” said Silver. But her eyes lingered a moment longer on Corinne. Roddy's wife. She was small and exquisite!,; formed, with negligible trinkets of feet, nnd a scantily hatted little head poised eagerly as she went for ward to accept Sophronia's blunder ing kiss and old Roderick’s hand clasp. A painful sound came from Ja son's throat. "Lord!” he muttered. "I could cry. Corinne has no idea what she’s—” "Oh, Jason,” Silver protested. "It will be all right. When people are tn love—they can adjust themselves to anything.” “We’ve got to be d—n nice to her. Silver. The poor little thing!” Everybody was in the living room when Silver and Jnson entered the new house. Roddy, with only a trace of self-consciousness, brought Co rinne, with his arm linked in hers, up to his brother and Silver while they stood in the doorway. “You’ve met Jason, Corrle,” he said. “This is Silver Grenoble, Sil ver—Corinne. Did I get it back wards? I usually do; remember, Corrle? She used to laugh at my manners, you know, Silver. But wdiat’s manners between friends?” He laughed, and Silver extended her band to Corinne, who took it with a quaint little move upward toward her tall husband. “He’s slandering me. Sliver,” Corinne declared. “I never had any thing but admiration for him, the wretch!’’ Jason bent forward in an almost courtly fashion as he shook Co rinne's hand. "Welcome home,” he said, with a dark shine in his eyes. "I’ve got a lunch laid out in the dining room if you’ll all come,” So phronia announced. “Oh, Mrs. Willard!’’ Corinne pleaded. “May I be excused? I feel so very gritty—all I want is a good hot bath.” Sophronia’s face fell In disap pointment. Silver had helped her make the fancy molds of fruit gela tine that had reposed all day in the cooler. She knew, too, how long I’hronie had labored over the dev iled eggs and the special mayon naise dressing, not to mention the angel cake with its greeting in pink Icing on the top. “Maybe you’ll feel more like hav ing a bite after you’ve washed?” Phronie suggested hopefully. Corinne shook her head mourn fully. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Willard. It has been so hot driving today. Oh—Roddy! Paula went upstairs with our bags, didn’t she? Perhaps she would like something to eat. Do you mind calling her?” Then in a hasty aside she added, “We picked her up only this afternoon in an em ployment office in Maynard, but I suspect she’s a jewel.” Paula entered the living room, and while Corinne, playfully demo cratic, introduced her to Silver and Jason, Silver found her Interest quickened by the German girl’s ap pearance. She was Junoesque in build, with vast thighs and breasts and shoulders. Her legs and arms were almost breath-taking when she walked. Silver thought she had never seen anything more beautiful than her corn-silk hair, which was plaited in a coronet across her head. Her face was round, rosy and placid, but far from vacant. But it was Jason’s eyes, fastened on Paula, that really startled Silver. Corinne, however, was taking no note of his reactions. She was glanc ing about at the walls of the liv ing room in an appraising way. "Funny,” she said with a depre cating little laugh, “I feel as though I nm In a different house from the one I remember. I love these etch ings, Roddy dear!’’ Sophronia vanished suddenly into the dining room. “I thought they were good,” Roddy told Corinne modestly. "But If Ja son wasn’t so bashful about hang lng his work—” “There’s a tankful of hot water,” Corinne,” Jason broke in. “We thought you might want a bath.” Corinne blinked at him in a be wlldered way, and Silver had the distinct feeling that she was not really looking at him. When they were alone together in their room, Corlnne, halfway through the hundred brush strokes she was giving her hnir, looked at Roddy with shrinking eyes. ‘‘Do you mean," she asked breath lessly, ‘‘that Jason is going to stay— with us?" A painful flush mounted to Roddy’s temples. “Why, of course, darling, ne stammered. ‘Lord—you don’t mean —you don’t dislike him, do youT“ Her small hands gathered over the brush on her knees. “No,” she said softly. “No—of course not” Roddy got up Impulsively, knelt beside her and drew her toward him. “Corrle!" he pleaded. “I can see how you feel about him. But I tell you, darling, he’s the finest soul in the world. And he’s an artist, Corrle. He really Is. You ought to see his work. If we only had enough money, I’d send him out to study, lie has his studio all fixed up in the attic. It would be Impossible for me to suggest that he should move. My G—d, Corrle—I couldn’t! Please, sweetheart, try to like him!" A trembling little smile passed over her lips. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against Rod dy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Roddy,” she murmured. "Of course. I’ll like him." In anguish, Roddy kissed her. Then lie kissed her again, and she drew a lock of her scented hair across Ills lowered eyes. H CHAPTER V I.n Roderick pointed with his pipe tip at the big house, where young Roddy lived with his wife Corinne. "You know," he said whimsically "maybe I’m get tin’ on. but I swear that house ain’t sitting right on the ground. It’s up in the air a little more every night I look at it—and farther east, too.” Silver laughed with Jason and Steve. "It ain’t likely to go much high er with that big iiired girl they have in it,” Steve, the hired man, observed drily. Jason cleared his throat. “Oh, 1 don’t know that she’s so big,” he said. "She has better ankles and feet than most girls in Heron River.” Phronle opened the door and called out to them. “I wish one of you youngsters would run tip and borrow some cinnamon for me. I’ve started to make cookies—’’ “Can’t you ever rest, Ma?" Jason said, getting to his feet. “I’ll go, Jase," Silver said quick ly. “You stay here and play." While she went lightly up the slope she thought again, as she had countless times during the past week, of Corinne’s baffling attitude toward Roddy’s brother. She ap peared to be cordiality itself toward him; was. In fact, almost glib with sincere solicitude. Perhaps that was the trouble. Silver reflected. For through it all. Silver had had the distinct feeling that Corinne was deliberately shutting poor Jason out of her consciousness. She feared, too, that Jason sensed this, and “They Have a Retinoo!” often wondered how long his pride or perverse humor would sustain him under the same roof with his brother’s wife. Then there was Paula. But Ja son was different and Paula too shy for the development, as yet, of any friendship between them which might be embarrassing to Corinne. Only yesterday, however. Corinne had called Paula sharply away from the yard where she was watching Jason repair a corn-crib, and had set her to some trivial and unneces sary task. When Silver entered Roddy’s house, she found Corinne writing letters In the living room. Roddy, at the dining room table, was at work over his ledger. ‘‘Phronle wants to borrow some cinnamon, Corinne,” Sliver ex plained when Roddy’s wife inquiring ly turned her head, “I can find it myself in the kitchen.” “Oh,” Corinne said Inattentively. "Paula will be down In a minute. She’s upstairs—tidying her hair, I suppose. She'll find the cinnamon for you. I’m sure I don’t know where she keeps It. Sit down, Sil ver. 1 must get these letters fin ished.” Silver picked up a copy of Vanity Fair and seated herself In the din ing room. Roddy gave her an odd, vaguely troubled look, then dropped his eyes again to his ledger. But immediately there was the sound of a car entering the drive way, and Corinne went to answer the doorbell. “I'd better go home," Sliver said quickly to Roddy. A gleam of anger lit Roddy’s eyes. "You stay where you are,” he com manded. “Didn't you tell me people round here had to get used to you?" Silver had no time to make < a re ply. A tall, granite-faced woman with a mottled red nose and a hat that bore a stiff little feather, entered the living room. In her wake, not unlike the trailing ruffle of a great ship, came a simpering miss of sev enteen or eighteen, much befrllled, and wearing a flowered leghorn hat. It was Mrs. Leander Folds, the school superintendent's wife of Heron River, and her daughter, Ethelwyn. “My denr,” Mrs. Folds was say ing loquaciously, “I suppose I should have telephoned. But I am a woman of Impulse, you know 1 We Just got back yesterday from our holiday In the Black Hills, and heard about Roddy's marriage. We were out driving, and I thought this would be a good time to catch you in. We must—we just must have you In our rending cluh. Ethelwyn here Is sec retary of it, and It’s so Instructive for the young people—” Mrs. Folds had advanced farther into the room, and now her eye fell upon Silver A curious, tight look appeared on her face ns though she were holding her breath. Silver stood up. • "Have you met Silver Grenoble, Mrs, Folds?’ Corinne asked hastily. “My husband's cousin.’’ "How do you do?” Silver said, but made no move toward the two vis itors. “Oh—” Mrs. Folds surveyed her thoroughly. “How do you do? Rod dy’s cousin by—by marriage? Of course. Yes. yes. And how do you do. Roddy? Oh. dear. I Just thought of something.” She turned abruptly nnd patted Ethelwyn’s arm. “Run nnd see If I brought that book I wanted Mrs. Willard to read. It ought to be in the car. If it isn’t, wait for me there, my dear." Ethelwyn vanished docilely, al though her eyes a moment before had been frankly devouring Sliver. Silver could feel the hot blood pounding In her throat, her temples. Mrs. Folds’ strategy had been so brutally obvious. Yet she was pow erless to move. “Now,” snid Mrs. Folds, “I can’t stay a minute—but you must prom ise to come to our meeting on Tues day, Mrs. Willard. We are study ing Hardy at the moment—with one of the moderns thrown In, Just for relief, so to speak.” She smiled apologetically. Roddy gave a sardonic bark of a lnugh. “Hardy? You don’t consid er him a modern, eh?” Mrs. Folds looked bewildered. Corinne agitatedly stepped closer to her and said, “Thank you so much, Mrs. Folds. I shall be glad to come, indeed.” “By the way, Mrs. Folds,” Roddy said coldly, his face curiously white beneath his tan, his eyes two grayly burning slits, “has this club of yours a limited membership?” Mrs. Folds reddened unbecoming ly. “Er—yes, It has,” she plunged. “You see—our house Is smnll—” Silver stood with her hands clenched about the table’s edge, back of her. “That's fortunate," Roddy Inter rupted Mrs. Folds, and laughed nloud. With that he slammed shut the covers of the ledger, flung It with a sharp report down upon the table and strode through the din ing room into the kitchen. Mrs. Folds smiled feebly and ex tended two fingers to Corinue. As though across waves of heat, Silver saw Mrs. Folds sail out of the house, Corlnne accompanying her. Paula had come down the back stairs. She entered the dining room now and handed Silver the can of cinnamon. Silver was suddenly aware of Roddy standing before her with crossed arms. “You'll find this place Isn’t worth the trouble, kid,” he said somberly. “The women will knife you— every chance they get" She gave him a steady look. “Mrs. Folds can’t hurt me—really,” she said with a proud lift of her head. Roddy’s lips moved In a hard way. “That Isn’t all of It" he con tinued. “I meant to tell you when you first came In, but I didn’t get a chance. That man Gerald Lucas was enquiring about you today In Heron River.” For a moment Silver leaned heav ily against the table. Her eyes were fixed wide upon Roddy’s face, as though she expected to hear him re peat his words. Corlnne came bithely In through the front of the house. “What an ogre of a woman 1” she cried, laughing. “I’m glad you snubbed her, Roddy. I couldn’t very well, because 1 thought she meant to invite—” “Phronle is waiting for the cin namon, Corlnne,” Silver said dully. “I must go." But it was Jason who took the spice into the house to Sophronla. Sliver felt that she could not, right now, bear the Interior of the stone house, even for a moment ‘Tm going for a walk," she told Jason. “A walk?” he asked, ant. frowned. But Silver broke away nnd start ed for the road. She thrust her hands Into the pockets of her sweat er and walked blindly into the last sinking glow of the sunset. Presently a long, graceful road ster turned the corner and came to ward her. As It slowed down and stopped beside her, the man at the wheel laughed with pleased sur prise and leaned over the door. Sil ver glanced up nt him. (TO BE CONTINUEDJ FORTUNES IN GEMS CHANGE OWNERSHIP OVER CUPS OF TEA When It was stated the other day that a scientist had discovered a process which enabled him to make synthetic diamonds. Indistinguishable from tlte real ones, but very much cheaper, a great many people were alarmed. Diamonds are a favorite Invest ment, and those who possess them would suffer enormous losses If stones exactly the same could be made commercially. It Is Impossible to say exactly how much money would be Involved, but the total would probably not be far short of £1,000,000.000. Fortunately for the owners of Jewels, however, tests of the "syn- j thetic diamonds” by the experts of the London Chamber of Commerce have revealed important differences between the manufactured gems and the genuine article. Business In diamonds Is one of the best barometers of world trade When diamonds boom It Is a sign that there Is general prosperity. When the demand for them falls off commerce generally is slowing down But no other form of “big bust ness” Is carried out In so modest * way. There Is no palatial diamond exchange, housed In “marble halls. 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