JJqi w y mooiv
ton iitain/ *
for Wees
CHAPTER VIII—Continued
—9—
“And the reason It was awkward,”
TTubby said evenly, “was because
she wasn't Just one of the gang,
and you knew perfectly well that
she expected to marry you In the
end. Didn't you?”
“I didn’t ask her to.”
"Don’t quibble.”
“I never told her I was in love
with her. I wasn’t in love with her.
I’ve never kissed Pilar In my life.”
He looked down at the note. “It’s
a very kind note, under the clr
eumstanees,” he said. “She might
perfectly well have written It to
me. I don't see why she didn’t.”
“That note,” Tubby suid deliber
ately, "Is about ns Innocent and
kind as a stick of dynamite with a
fuse burning.”
"Oh, don't be a fool. Tubby.
What’s got into you, anyway? You
used to like her. You said she wus
a good sport, and a lot of other
things. You and she were great
pals."
“Minn," Tubby agreed. “So we
were. So we were. But why? That’s
what 1 found out when you pulled
your little stunt. She didn't care
two pins about me. The only rea
eon she ever spread herself about
me was because she thought It
might make it easier for her to get
you. See? And that night when I
went to tell her that you were mar
ried, 1 caught her off her guard.
(Never again. I wouldn’t go near
tier with a suit of boilerplate on."
Bryn folded the note and put It
back on the table.
“And now, ’ Tubby said, watching
blm, “she knows where you are."
"And what of it?"
4 “Nothing. Nothing at all. Go
* on mooning, old hophead."
Bryn took out his case and lit a
•cigarette.
“Say, Bryn,” Tubby said at last,
“did you hear what Madeline said
to me tonight?”
“What did she say?"
“Well, nothing much,” Tubby an
swered, embarrassed. “It was the
way she said It. You know. Made
line’s a darn nice girl. I never
really thought much about It be
f fore, sort of took her for granted,
you know. But she’s a peach.’’
Bryn got up leisurely and went
to the door. He opened It. Bryn
moved across the hall and tapped
at Madeline’s door. Tubby sat up,
stiff with horror.
“Madeline,” Bryn called through
the keyhole.
“Mhm?”
“Madeline, Tubby says he likes
you.”
“Oh," Madeline said, and obvi
ously sat up in bed. “How much?"
she inquired after a moment.
Bryn turned. “IIow much, Tubby?”
“Bryn, if you aren’t the damned
est fool!’’
“How much?” Bryn said inexor
ably.
Tubby’s dimple wavered in and
out wildly. “I said I thought she
was a darn nice girl," he muttered.
“You crazy idiot.”
“Madeline, he says he thinks you
are a darn nice girl.”
“Well,” Madeline said with a
bounce of the springs, “that Isn’t
anything to get up and get dressed
over. G’night.’’
Feeling better, Bryn pulled Tub
by’s door shut with a last pleasant
smile, and sauntered down the hall.
“Deborah,” he said softly, with
out knocking.
She was awake. Her voice came,
low and clear, on the instant. “Yes?
Has anything . . . happened?"
“Nothing. I just wanted to say
. . . pleasant dreams . , . and
good-night."
For an instant she did not an
swer. Then, “Good-night, Bryn.”
“Good-night, darling,” he replied,
and went quickly across the room
to his own door.
CHAPTER IX
THE breakfast table was spread
on the small terrace at the side
of the house, where Bryn and Debo
rah had eaten their first breakfast
together. There were six places
laid, but Sally was still upstairs,
sleeping, as Simon explained, liki
a dormouse; and Bryn had not yet
returned from his early errand to
the farm down the road. Deborah,
In freshly starched blue gingham,
sat erect on her chair behind the
silver coffee pot, and poured out a
third cup for Tubby. Beside her,
Madeline sat quiet, gazing dream
ily out through the trunks of the
tall pines.
“Well," Simon sighed, “I wonder
If today will be the big day."
“Oh, probably not,’” Tubby said
comfortably. “1 give him until about
Thursday noon."
“It doesn’t make any difference
when he comes, does it?” Madeline
Inquired. "The sooner lie comes,
the sooner It will be settled. I wish
he'd come now and get It over
with.”
As she spoke. Bryn pushed open
the dining room door and came out
to the terrace. He put a hand on
Simon's shoulder, tweaked Tubby’s
hair, let ids eyes rest on Deborah’s
lowered eyelashes, and spoke to
Madeline. “Who, me?”
“No, Graham.”
"He’ll come,” Bryn said cheerful
ly, and pulled up his chair. "And
there’s one sure tiling, he won’t get
[>ast Joe. I left Joe on a box high
up on the seat of a wagon box.
where he can see the road coming
up the mountain for about two
miles. He's got the wagon [lulled
under a shady tree, and he’s got
an old pair of spy-glasses, and the
horn.”
Bryn finished his breakfast, and
he and Tubby and Simon left tin*
table. They were going, Tubby In
formed the two girls, to Inspect the
dungeons and see that the chains
were in good order.
When they were gone, Madeline
put out her hand and patted Debo
rah's lightly. "Deborah,” she said
after a moment, "would you do
something for me?"
“Of course."
“It’s about Tubby. I don’t know
what to think." She looked up.
“With uny other man In the world,
I’d just exercise my feminine charm
and . . . wait. But that isn’t safe
with Tubby. Tubby isn’t exactly
shy, but he doesn’t have any Idea
that lie’s so attractive that anybody
might want to marry him. It’s one
thing I like about him, his abso
lute lack of conceit.’’
Deborah considered. “Tubby
wouldn’t marry just anybody," she
said comfortingly.
"I don’t mean just anybody. But
I can think of half a dozen girls in
our own crowd who could make
quite a dent in him, Deborah, If
they set about doing it. And, of
course, there’s one in particular.”
“Pilar?"
“Pilar.”
“What’s she like?” Deborah asked
curiously. “I never knew any girls
but you and Sally, and I understand
you two pretty well. Isn't she like
us, this Pilar?"
"Not In hundred years, inno
cence. Not In a thousand years.
She’s one of these hot - headed
stamping beauties. Pilar has those
huge flashing black eyes, and
smooth black hair . . . she slicks
it back and pins a red rose In It,
you know . . . and she makes her
mouth very red and doesn’t use
rouge on her cheeks. And she’s tall
and graceful and buys wonderful
clothes, the kind other people can’t
get by with."
“Is she very beautiful, Madeline?"
“Very. Almost as beautiful as
you, honey, only quite, quite dif
ferent."
“Have she and Tubby known each
other long?"
“Years and years."
“Then . . . surely you needn’t
worry, Madeline. He would have
married her long ago If he’d been
going to, wouldn't he?"
Madeline hesitated. "No,” she
said finally. "Something new has
just occurred in Pilar’s life. She
wouldn’t have married him until
now."
A cold finger touched Deborah s
heart; but the touch was so light
that it was gone in an instant, and
she had forgotten it.
“What can I do, Madeline?”
Madeline brought her gaze back
from the distant eastern horizon.
“Tubby likes me,” she said. “I
know he likes me. We get along
beautifully together. If I were sure
he didn’t love I’ilar I'd just simply
set about making him love me.”
“But could I find out about Pilar?
Is that what you want me to do?”
“I thought you might ask Bryn.
Bryn knows. Bryn knows every
thing about Tubby, just ns Tubby
knows everything about Bryn. And
then you could tell me.”
Deborah looked up. “Do you really
love him, Madeline?” she asked.
Madeline smiled, a slow smile.
Iler eyes were tender. “Yes, honey.
Really.”
"Well, then," Deborah said with
a sigh, “I’ll see what I can do.
Madeline."
It was only an hour or two later
when she saw her chance. Tubby
was sitting alone on a stump down
by the brook, whittling industrious
ly at a willow stick, trying to make
himself a whistle. Deborah went
down the path and perched herself
on a mossy log In front of him.
“Do you like it up here, Tubby?”
“I think It’s great. I'm crazy
about it."
"Don't you miss all the excite
ment in the city, and all the rest
of your friends?"
“Not a twinge of missing do I
get.”
"All the things you do sound very
exciting. I mean, all of you, of
course. Madeline and Sally have
been telling me a little, about
places, and people. Yesterday they
told me about Pilar. I think she
sounds fascinating."
Tubby looked up. "Pilar?” he
said Incredulously.
“She sounds marvelous. So tall
and beautiful. Even her name is
lovely, isn’t It? Pilar.”
“Do you mean to say those wom
en told you about Pilar?”
“Yes. Why not? I was awfully
interested."
“Well?’ he said with a heavy sigh,
"women are the funniest things In
captivity. I should think that would
have been the last name they would
have mentioned. And, If somehow
you had heard about Pilar, I should
have thought she’d be the last per
son you’d be happy about. I never
would have dared open my mouth
about her, but then, who am I?.lust
a mere man."
“I don’t see why you feel that
way,” Deborah said, but her smile
began now to feel a little stilt and
queer. “There Isn't any reason why
I shouldn't want to hear about Pi
lar, Is there, or wouldn't like her?"
Tubby was silent for a moment
Then, “I suppose not,” he said slow
ly. “Not under the circumstances.
After all, everything went spang
right by the board for you. didn't
It? And you know It. So why
should you worry about Pilar or
anybody else?”
Deborah tore a little piece of
green velvet moss off the log, and
spread it on the hack of her ha ml
So Tubby didn’t know, either. Tub
by thought that Bryn had fallen In
love with her In Mr. Holworthy's
oflice. Tubby didn’t know every
thing about Bryn, after all. Sud
denly Deborah thought she under
stood why Bryn had told all these
Her Eyes Were Black and Sleepy,
Like a Cat’s.
people the same story, the story
about falling In love with her. It
was to save his own self-respect.
He didn’t want any of them to know
that he "had just found a new and
interesting way to earn money. Oh,
that wasn’t fair. That wasn’t like
Bryn. And, last night . . .
“From the sound of Pilar,” she
said at last, “I couldn’t blame any
body for thinking she was wonder
ful.”
“I suppose she does sound all
right,” Tubby said dubiously. “But
she's no good, Deborah. I’m warn
ing you, in case she ever comes
near you. But what’s been handed
to her Is hard to take, and it isn't
agreeing with her very well.”
"Did you hear somebody calling?”
Deborah said suddenly. "It sound
ed like Grandmother. Excuse me.
Tubby,” and she got up and ran
swiftly up the path to the %iouse.
Grandmother was not calling. But
Deborah knew she couldn't bear to
stay with Tubby another second.
Her heart felt as If It was breaking.
She went up the stairs to her own
room, and shut the door behind her.
The girl he loved . . . she would
be I’ilar. Beautiful Pilar, with her
black eyes and her black hair and
her red mouth. They all thought
Bryn had given her up, forgotten
her, for Deborah. That was what
they had to think. They couldn’t
possibly understand, when they
didn’t know the truth; when they
didn't know why Bryn had married
And his tenderness toward her?
His hand over hers, sitting there In
the twilight? What was that, then?
Deborah got up and went into her
bedroom. She stood before her mir
ror, and lifted her eyes to the girl
in the glass. The faded gingham
dress, the braided hulr . . . she
looked like some forlorn little or
phan youngster who needed some- |
one to love her. Bryn was kind, lie
was sorry for her. The feeling ho
had for her was , . . pity.
She pressed her lips together
firmly to stop their trembling. She
went Into her bathroom and bathed
her eyes In cold wnter.
And, just at that moment, she
heard the sound of Joe's horn, far
down the mountain. Three long
blasts and two short ones . . a
pause . , . three long notes and
two short ones. Deborah's heast
sprang up Into her throat. She tore
open her door and raced down the
stairs to Grandmother and Made
line, out on the veranda. At the
foot of the stairs she caught the
sound of Madeline's voice, going
steadily on with “Shadows on the
Rock.” Deborah stopped at the
sound of that calm voice, and
/
steadied herself. Then, chin up,
she walked out serenely and smiled
at Grandmother. She dropped down
on the step, and sat there, waiting.
A low humming sound made it
self felt on the air. It rose to a
whine . . . the shining top of a
motor car appeared sliding along
outside the wall. It slowed abrupt
ly, and swung In toward the gates.
Gary started down the drive.
“It looks as If we had guests,"
Grandmother snld. Interrupting
Madeline. “I wonder who It can be?"
“It’s probably another plumber,”
Mndellne said languidly.
Gary had reached the gates. He
opened them, and passed through.
But then, after a moment’s colloquy
with the driver of the car, whom
Deborah could not see, he came
back to the gates again, and swung
them wide; and the long blue car
Jolted a little and came on through.
Deborah put a slow hand to her
throat.
But It was not Stuart Graham
driving; It was a woman ... a
girl ... In a bright red silk beret,
and a red Jacket. Gary plodded
along behind the car, after he had
shut the gates und locked them
The car came slowly up the drive,
and stopped opposite the end of
the veranda. The girl got out. and
Deborah knew her. She was tall
and very slim, with a long oval face
and a very red mouth. Her eyes
were black, and sleepy, like a cat’s,
with slow black lashes drooping
over them. Deborah rose, and found
Madeline at her side. They went
down the steps.
"It’s Pilar," Madeline said undei
her breath, and Deborah nodded.
“Ah, Madeline 1" Pilar said. In a
voice that made a tune. She moved
forward, and let her hand rest
lightly on Madeline’s elbow, hold
ing her, as she looked down at Deb
orah. "And this," she went on ca
ressingly, "this will be little Deb
orah. My child, you are adorable."
"Thank you," Deborah said sweet
ly, and put out her hand In wel
come. "I am so glad you have
come. I am sure you must be Pilar.
I have heard so much about you.”
Pilar looked a little startled, but
she lost not a whit of her poise.
She looked at Madeline. “And
aren't you glad to see me, too,
Madeline?"
"Oh, rather,” Madeline said cool
ly, and turned back toward the ve
randa.
*‘\Ve must take you to Grand
mother,” Deborah explained, as PI
lar’s eyes lifted to the delicate old
face turned toward her.
"Lovely," Pilar said, in an audi
ble whisper. ‘Oh, lovely.”
“Grandmother," Deborah mur
mured, "this is Miss D'Avlllo. She
Is another friend of Sally's and
Madeline’s.”
"I’m so hnppy to welcome yon,
my dear,” Grandmother said warmly.
“Oh, thank you,” Pilar murmured,
and held Grandmother’s band quite
unnecessarily long. She straight
ened.
Simon and Tubby and Bryn, all
silent, cniue around the end of the
veranda. Bryn’s face, as he glanced
at Deborah, was very queer and
stiff; Tubby was white. Simon
looked detached, as usual, but his
eyes went at once to Pilar. And
she stood there, for a moment, be
side Grandmother, beside Deborah.
She put her hand lightly on Debo
rah’s shoulder, before she moved,
and Bryn looked at them together,
so, Pilar beautiful and sophisticat
ed and perfect down to the last
gleaming finger-nail shining in the
sun. Deborah small and insignifi
cant In her faded gingham.
Pilar smiled. She went forward
and held out both hands. "My dear
Bryn,” she said affectionately. “But
how well you look, and how happy!
Allow me to congratulate you; I
think she Is the loveliest thing I
have ever seen.”
Grandmother looked up swiftly at
Deborah; and Deborah, calm now,
with something cold and frozen
where her heart had begun some
short time ago to ache, smiled gen
tly and contentedly back.
• • • • • • *
The rain, which had threatened
for twenty-four hours, came at last
on Tuesday night. Deborah lay
awake and listened to the soft
steady fall on the balcony floor out
side her Bedroom window. She
found herself wishing nrdently that
It might rain hard and long, so that
the road might be impassable to
Stuart Graham, so that nothing fur
there should break in upon the
peace and loveliness of the sum
mer days. But that was a useless
wish, she knew. The peace and
loveliness were already gone.
I’llar was very beautiful, but the
most troubling thing about her was
the so obvious fact that she be
longed to Bryn's world, his real
world, that she was part of his own
life and always had been, and not
lust a chance passerby whose path
had happened to meet his and for
a time followed along close beside
it. Madeline and Sally and Simon
and Tubby were out of Bryn's life,
too, but somehow before Pilar
came, Deboraii hadn’t realized what
a different life it was from her own,
how far away and Impossible. Pilar
was very kind, and she did her best
to draw Deborah into the conversa
tions, and always stopped carefully
to explain anything that she
thought would be unfamiliar or
strange to Deborah, in a way that
Sally and Madeline never had
thought of doing. But Pilar’s very
kindness and thoughtfulness seemed
to emphasize Deborah’s unfamiliar
ity with the world, Bryn’s world
and Its customs.
(TO HE CONTINUED)
Uncommon john blake
Q p ll A 86
v © Bell Syndicate —WNU Service.
Make up your mind that you will
have more or less trouble as you Jour
n e y through
Don’t Waste Pity this world. You
on Yourself will meet with
' many disap
pointments. People whom yon trust
ed may turn out to be “bad actors."
If they are. drop them from your ac
quaintanceship.
But don’t under any circumstances
begin to believe that you are misused,
that there are conspiracies against
you, or that you are not getting a
“square deal."
Sometimes you won’t get a “square
deal.”
That may be no fault of yours.
But don’t worry about It. Drop the
acquaintanceship of people who have
proved themselves to be mean and
tricky, and choose friends that you
can trust.
There are plenty of these.
* • •
Don’t think for a moment that
everybody Is trying to get the best
of you, that your boss Is “exploiting"
you, or that ym haven't any chance
to get ahead.
Your chances of getting ahead will
he just about what you deserve.
Today you, lilfrf everybody else,
have plenty if opportunity re edu
cate yourself.
But to do that It will be necessary
to work, and to work hard.
You will find people who will seek
Foreign Words ^
and Phrases 9
Ad valorem. (L.) According to the
value, ns certain customs duties.
Ah orlglne. (L.) From the origin.
Bon gre, nial gre. (F.) With good
grace or with III grace; willy-nilly.
Ars longa, vita brevis. (L.) Art Is
long, life Is short.
C’est tine autre chose. (F.) That
Is a different affair.
Del gratia. (L.) By the grace of
God.
Kn passant. (F.) In passing; by
the way.
Suavlter In modo, fortiter In re.
(L.) Gently In the manner, flrmly in
the act.
In flagrante delicto. (L.) In the
very act of committing the crime.
Exeunt otnnes. (L.) All go out.
to crowd you out and get ahead of
yon.
You will come Into contact with
unscrupulous “otllce politicians.’'
But that kind of people always work
themselves out of jobs before long,
for they are so busy with their little
venomous plans that they will have no
time to win any sort of success.
Don’t work on the principle that
this Is an Idenl world, and that every
body gets an even break.
It is not that kind of a world. But
Its sordidness and selfishness are
overrated.
• • •
Work out your own plans, and
stick to them.
Bay no more attention to n rascal
ly office mate who Is trying to “tun
nel” you out of a Job than you would
to a tree root that tripped you up
when you were taking an afternoon
walk.
Be helpful and considerate to other
people.
If they repay you with bnckhltlng.
THE CHEERFUL CHERU5
. ■ •
I feel so sorry for e.
f l^g
Alone upon z. building
tdl
TK'e.t twists itself
around its pole
And never get*
to weve
“bt zA\.
mv c*****
WNU Servlc*.
drop them, and find people who are
a better sort.
Enough of these exist In your neck
of the woods to help make life very
pleasant for you.
Above all, do not whine.
Take things as you tlnd them. Use
them for your own good. Take care
of your heajth and your disposition.
And in the end you will find that
you have been more or less the archU
tect of your own fortune, and that
you deserved the kind that you got.
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Write plainly pattern number, your
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Hunger for Great Idea
A healthful hunger for a great Idea
Is the beauty and blessedness of life.
—Jean Ingelow.
t
S^ilXX makes a close one T
LOOK, OlZZVl THAT I
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