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About The Bonneville Dam chronicle. (Bonneville, Or.) 1934-1939 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 13, 1937)
BIX THE B O N N E V IL L E Laughing, Brooke dashed for the front door. It was so like the R ey burn fam ily to dramatize its arrival. In a rush of cold air and excited greetings she piloted her mother and sister to the library. The star © Emilie Loring. tled parrot shrieked, “ Stop! Look! WNU Service. Listen!” “ Boy, you don’ t need a burglar feel like a spy, a traitor. The tur alarm with that announcer. You key would choke me.” ought to loan him to a bank.” “ Do you want the truth about Lucette made a gamin face at this w ill?” the parrot as she slipped out of her “ You bet I do.” ocelot coat. She dragged off her “ Then go. Don’ t write. ‘We never la t and patted the swirl of her send a letter when we can send a dark hair. man.’ Phone the night before that Brooke hugged her mother. “ It’ s you are coming. She’ll have less wonderful to have you here, Celia time in which to think why you are Reyburn, and aren’ t you devastat accepting.” ing in that eel-gray ensemble!” “ Not as devastating as you are Brooke Reyburn stood in the door in that shimmery white, daughter. way of the living-room at Lookout It brings out the copper lights in House. Behind her in the hall a your hair.” graceful circular stairway wound up Brooke laughed. “ We are like and up. She nodded approval. The two diplomats exchanging compli room was the perfect setting she ments, the difference is that ours had visualized for the duchess of come from the heart. Where’ s A rgyle since the day she had known Sam? Don’ t tell me Sam isn’t com that her father had willed her the in g!” portrait. The green of the walls Lucette held a lighter to a ciga and trim repeated the color of the rette with a faint hint of bravado. satin gown of the woman in the dull “ Don’ t cry, darling. Sam came. gold frame which hung above the Didn’ t you recognize his voice sing mantel of carved black Italian m ar ing as if his little heart would burst ble, repeated also the shade of the from joy as we approached this feathers of the dozing parrot in a baronial hall? Doubtless he is kiss gilded cage, threw into relief dark ing his peachy convertible good- polished surfaces of mahogany. She had had everything that she thought belonged to his fam ily stored in the apartment over the garage. Curious that she had found so little silver. She looked at the door which M ary Amanda Dane had told her opened into the twin house. Some thing uncanny about it. Whenever she was in the room it drew her eyes like a magnet. Mark Trent’ s house was on the other side. It had not been lived in for years. What a waste. Had his wife refused to live there? His wife? She couldn’ t think of him as having had a wife. Why think of him at all? She resolutely switched her thoughts to her surroundings. This was the same room in which she had first seen Mrs. Dane in her wheel chair, but how different. Then it had been drab and heavy; now it glowed with soft color. She would never forget the pathos in the wom an’ s eyes as they had met hers, nor the eagerness of her greeting. She had registered a passionate vow to make her lovely and attrac tive in appropriate clothes. That had been her job—then— and a thrilling job, too, to help women Laughing, Brooke Dashed for make the most of their good points. the Front Door. How M ary Amanda Dane had fooled her about money. The crip He’ s crazy pled woman had kept her feet firmly night in your garage about that coupe you gave him, on the ground when it came to Brooke. He has named it Light spending. Planning inexpensive, at ning. And can it go! Who’ s the tall tractive clothes for her had been an gent with the undertaker expression exciting challenge. She had suc ceeded. The frocks had been charm who pulled our bags from the car as ing, and with her drab wardrobe if he were extracting upper and low the invalid had shed much of her er molars?” “ Henri. He and his wife, Clotilde, crabbedness. Lovely clothes did worked for years for Mrs. Dane. that for a woman. Pity that more husbands didn’ t realize the fact. I kept them on to help me settle. Now she was gone and had left a They take a lot of handling, believe small fortune behind her. Why had it or not.” “ I believe i t This room looks she denied herself so many of the luxuries of life. Brooke blinked long like part of a House Beautiful exhib wet lashes and said aloud, as she it. It’ s corking.” had said many times since she had “ Wait till you see the rest of the como to live at Lookout House: house, Lucette. Here’ s Sam. I “ Thank you for everything, Mrs. would recognize his bang of a door if I heard it in Timbuctoo. Wel Mary Amanda. Thanks billions.” She swallowed the lump which come to Lookout House, Sammy! rose in her throat whenever she It’ s wonderful that the theater thought of the woman’ s incredible closed just at this time.” “ Yeah! It’ s all in the point of kindness. Hardly the tim e to go view. There are them who think sentimental when at any moment otheiwise. However, I ’m not kick the family might burst in on her. They were on their way to spend ing.” He caught Brooke in a bearlike Thanksgiving. F or the first time hug. He kept his arm about her they would see the changes in the as he looked around the room. house; she had postponed their com “ Swell joint you’ve got here. I ing until it should be in perfect or like the greenhousey smell from der. The honk-honk of an automobile those plants. Say listen, we’ ve horn outside was followed by voices missed you like the dickens, haven’ t we, Mother?” singing lustily: “ We have, Sam.” Celia Reyburn " 'Over the river and through the steadied her voice. “ We’d better wood, stop emotionalizing and get ready Trot fast, my dapple-grayl for dinner. I have kept house years Spring over the ground enough to know that promptness Like a hunting hound at meals helps to keep the home- For this is Thanksgiving day.’ ” maker’ s life's walk easy.” “ You would think of that, Moth The gay chorus was followed by er. It isn't dinner to night. I planned laughter and vociferous cries: “ Whoa there! Stand still, Light a buffet supper, not being sure at what time my relatives from the big ning! Whoa!” With B anners B y E m ilie L o r i n g SYNOPSIS Brooke Reyburn visits the office of Jed Stewart, a lawyer, to discuss the terms of an estate she has inherited from Mrs. Mary Amanda Dane. Unwit tingly she overhears Jed talking to Mark Trent, a nephew of Mrs. Dane who has been disinherited. Mrs. Dane had lived at Lookout House, a huge structure on the sea, built by her father and divided into two, for her and Mark’s father. Brooke had been a fashion expert, and Mrs. Dane, a "shut-in,” hearing her on the radio had invited her to call and de veloped a deep affection for her. Mark discloses that Mrs. Dane had threatened to disinherit him if he married Lola, from whom he is now divorced. He says he does not trust Henri and Clotilde Jacques, Mrs. Dane’ s servants. He says he is not interested in an offer of Brooke's to share the estate with him. Leaving her department store job, Brooke refuses an offer to “ go stepping” with Jerry Field, a carefree young man who wants to marry her. At a family conference she learns she must live at Lookout House alone, since Lucette, her younger sister who is taking her job, her brother, Sam, a young playwright, and her mother plan to stay in the city. Jed and Mark are astounded when they hear from Mrs. Gregory, a family friend, that she had witnessed a hitherto un known will with Ilenri and Clotilde two weeks before Mrs. Dane died. Brooke had arrived just as she was leaving. CH APTER I I I —Continued Jed Siewart was walking the floor when he entered his office. He stopped abruptly. “ Well,” he demanded, “ did she talk any more?” “ Not about the will. Why the dickens didn’t you ask questions?” “ Didn’t dare. Don’ t you see, Mark? Boy, don’ t you understand? Someone has snitched that second will she witnessed.” "D id you draw it?” “ Never heard of it. Perhaps your aunt had an acute attack of re morse. I argued with her, as much as a lawyer can argue, against cut ting you out; she wouldn’ t come to me about a new will. Didn’t Mrs. Gregory say that she had been dis trait the last few times they had been together? She thinks it was be cause Mrs. Dane was making up her mind to disinherit you; you and I know that the will to that ef fect already had been drawn.” “ You passed up a grand chance to cross-examine her, Jed.” “ Didn’t dare. She thinks the will she witnessed is the one probated; doesn’ t know that if it had been she v.ould have been summoned to prove her signature. We mustn’ t let a suspicion of this second will get out. Where is it?" “ She said the Reyburn girl drove in as she left the place. Do you suppose Aunt Mary Amanda told her what was in it and that she—” Jed Stewart stopped his restless pacing. His eyes and voice were troubled. “ Destroyed it? But how could Brooke Reyburn have known what was in the first will? Perhaps your aunt had told her that she was to be residuary legatee—it doesn’ t seem probable, but women do fool things.” He grinned. “ Of course men never do. We’ ve got to get busy. I f it isn’ t destroyed, that will may be at Lookout House; you’ ve never liked the Jacques and you say that they hate you. I have an idea. Open your house. Live there. Get friendly with the girl.” “ I would feel like a sneak to go there to spy on her.” “ You suspect that she may have Influenced your aunt to make a will in her favor, don’ t you?” “ I do.” “ Then give her a chance to prove that she didn't. Take a couple of Japs and go down and live next door.” " I won’ t commit m yself to that proposition in a hurry. If I decide to do it, will you come with me?” “ Sure. I ’ ve been hoping you’d ask me. Philo Vance is my middle name.” Stewart picked up the note lying on the desk. “ You’d better open the investigation by accept ing this.” “ The Reyburn girl’ s invitation to dine on Thanksgiving day? I would DAM C H R O N IC L E town would arrive. Come upstairs and I ’ ll show you your rooms.” A fam ily might get on each oth er’ s nerves, as of course it did at times, but there was nothing like it, Brooke concluded fervently, as after supper on a floor cushion in front of the library fire she leaned against her mother’ s knees. Perhaps it was because she had been too absorbed in her own con cerns before to notice, but Sam and Lucette seemed to have grown old er, to have changed, seemed also to have something weighty on their minds. What was it? What had happened? As if she knew what she was thinking, Lucette burst out nervous ly: “ I f Sam can stop that nut-munch ing marathon, perhaps he’ ll an nounce the latest Reyburn news flash.” Brooke sat erect. “ What news?” Sam took careful aim at the par rot’ s perch. The nutshell struck its bullseye and roused the dozing bord. “ Hell’ s bells!” he croaked, and ruffled his feathers. “ Looks as if he were caught in a typhoon, doesn’ t he?” The laughter in Sam’ s voice vanished. “ Mother has been invited to spend the winter in England with her friend Lady Jaffrey.” “ Sam !” With the exclamation Brooke was on her feet. “ Do you mean it? How perfectly grand! She lives in an old castle, doesn’ t she?” “ Hey, pipe down, Brooke. There’ s a nigger in the woodpile. Wait till you hear the condition.” “ A condition in Lady Jaffrey’ s in vitation, Sam? I can’t believe it.” “ Be quiet, children. Let me talk.” Arms crossed on the back of the wing chair in which she had been sitting, Celia Reyburn faced her fam ily. Her cheeks were pink; her eyes, as blue as her son’ s, were brilliant with excitement. She clasped her hands tightly as if to steady them. “ The chair recognizes the lady from the big city,” Sam encouraged with a grin. “ What’ s the condition, Mother? Don’ t you want io go?” “ Very, very much, Brooke, but I shouldn’t enjoy a moment of the visit if I left your brother and sister in that apartment alone. Perhaps I ’m a selfish woman, but I would like to and will go, if m y mind is perfectly at ease about Lucette and Sam. I f they w ill come here to you, and if you w ill have them—” “ Have them! Mother, don’t be foolish! I have been rattling around in this big house like a dried coco nut in a shell. Of course I want them—but will they come?” “ Who’ s being foolish now?” Lu cette flung her cigarette into the fire. Her cheeks were almost as red as her painted lips. “ Of course we’ll come, Brooke Reyburn. Of course we’ll play ball Mother’s way. Sam and I aren’t cold-blooded fish. If taking to the sticks to be chap eroned by big sister will make Mother’ s visit happier, we’ll settle down here with bells on. She’ s earned all the fun she can get. She’ll have one grand time and mow those stiff Britishers down in swaths and come home Countess Whoosit, or I miss m y guess.” “ Lucette!” Celia Reyburn pro tested indignantly. “ Don’ t mind her, Mother,” Brooke reassured. “ By the time you re turn your younger daughter will have acquired all the social graces—” “ Just a minute! Now I make a condition. I come only if I keep on with my job.” “ It would mean early and late commuting, Lucette.” “ I ’ve thought that out. In Sam’ s convertible we can make it.” “ But you and Sam won’t be com ing down at the same time, and—” “ Don’ t be so sure, Brooke.” Sam aimed a nutshell at the parrot. “ The theater has closed permanently and I ’m up against one of those simple economic problems, where’s the next job coming from? I ’ll go to New York to see off Mother and take my play. Now that producers have begun to sniff around for bar gains, I may get m y chance.” "Sam—dear—” Brooke attempted tc lighten her dismayed voice. Bad enough for him to be out of work without having her turn sob-sister. , F R ID A Y , AUG U ST 18, 1937 “ You’ ll find something. I read the other day that the theater is on the up-grade. I f you don’ t—oh, Sam my, what a chance for you to write! Why not give your play a try-out here? We’ll do it for the town’ s welfare fund, in the Club House the ater. What a chance to try ‘Is lands Arise’ on the d og!” “ News flash! The Reyburns stage a p la y !” Lucette cut in. “ Why not?” Brooke persisted ea gerly. “ Most of the summer homes are to be kept open during the win ter and—Answer the phone, will you, Sam? Take the message for me. I ’ ve been pestered to death by tradespeople and insurance agents wanting to sell me something. Tell them I ’m out of town for the eve ning—any thing. ’ ’ The silence of the room was broken only by the snap and hiss of the fire as Sam Reyburn put the receiver of the handset to his ear. “ Hulloa.—Yes.—Miss Reyburn ia out of town for the evening.—Sure, she’ ll be back tomorrow.—Oh, it is! —Yes, I ’ll give her your message. She’ll be pleased purple. I get you. I ’ll tell her. ’ B y e !” He laid the phone on the stand. “ Who was it, Sam? What w ill please me purple?" Brooke de manded uneasily. “ A party by the name of Trent.” “ What did he want?” “ Not much. Only to say that ho accepted your invitation for Thanks giving dinner with pleasure.” C H A PTE R IV Brooke noticed Mark Trent’ s quick glance about as he entered the dining-room at Lookout House. She felt an instant of self-consciousness as she took the seat against the variegated yellow background of tall mimosas and acacias which filled a broad bay-window, which her mother refused with a quick shake of her head and a smile. She immediately forgot herself in pride of her sporting family. Each one was so gay, so determined to do his or her share to make the party a real festivity. Holidays were hard days since her father’ s death, but always someone who was alone had been invited to keep the feast with them. Thinking of others helped immeasurably to bridge the sense of loss, Celia Reyburn argued. The dinner was a success. Brooke breathed a little sigh of relief as she rose from the table. This Thanks giving dinner had been the first en tertaining in her own home. O f course the guests had been her fam ily and Mark Trent only, but she had felt pride in having it a suc cess. As she served coffee from the massive silver tray in the living- room, she glanced at Mark Trent standing before the fire. With his elbow on the mantel, he was talk ing to Celia Reyburn seated in a corner of the couch. The orchids he had brought her added the per fect touch to her amethyst frock. Orchids for her mother, gardenias for Lucette, and deep fragrant pur ple violets for his hostess. He had said it with flowers. A lavish gen tleman. Had Henri turned chalky as he had announced dinner, or had she imagined it? He had stared at Mark Trent as if seeing an unwel come apparition. With a groan of repletion Sam pulled himself out of a deep chair. “ Boy, let’ s get out and walk! I feel like a stuffed, trussed turkey. Why do we eat so much more on Thanksgiving? Because we haven’t any sense. Notice that I ’m acquir ing the analytic method, question and answer. Anybody here got the energy to take the shore walk?” “ I ’ ll go with you, Sammy.” Celia Reyburn smiled at her tall son. “ Elaine Jaffrey is a great hiker; she will probably walk me all over the British Isles. I must get in practice. Just wait until I change m y shoes.” “ Boy, I ’m glad we have on® sport in the family. I ’ll bet Lucette has a heavy date, and is expecting someone. Coming, Brooke? Com ing, Mr. Trent?” “ Mark to you, I hope, Sam. Do come, Miss Reyburn,” Mark Trent urged. “ It’ s a grand day. A fter hours of storm, there is enough wind to make the surf worth look ing a t ” (TO BE CONT1NUEDI
