VERNONIA EAGLE. VERNONIA. OREGON
| MAIDEN VOYAGE
KATHLEEN NOURIS
8 Copyright, Kathleen Norrie.
CHAPTER XV—Continued
—12—
Back at her desk In the city room
again Tony found herself Inclined
to talk aloud.
“Oh, you fool!" she said under
her breath. She ranged the little
notes before her without seeing
them; slipped a sheet of yellow pa­
per Into her typewriter. "What of
It—what of It—what of It?” she
said fiercely. "What do you care
what be thinks? He knows I’m
crazy about him. What of It? I
wish I hadn’t gone up there! I
could have sent a note. Darling
Bendy—she looked so sweet
I
wonder how It’d feel to be married
Tony Found Herself Inclined to
Talk Aloud
i a man who made you feel com­
pletely crazy, nutty, the way I feel
now doing off with him in -a car
for Monterey—oh, I wish I hadn't
gone 'ip to his office! What did
he say? Did he say anything at
all? No, he didn’t He just sat
there and was sorry for me.”
She brought her mind to her
notes- the bridesmaids for the DI
Milano wedding had been picked.
Mrs. James Lee Fairchild and her
daughter Miss Janet were leaving
for the East where Miss Janet
would be placed in a girls' school.
Mrs. J. Kane Kelly was entertain­
ing for her niece, Miss Barbara
Fairchild
Tony felt broken and sick; her
head ached. She could not keep
her mind on what she was doing.
At six o’clock she walked home.
The walk seemed nothing tonight.
The nervous energy that drove her
would have carried her on for miles
without fatigue or even conscious­
ness. Reaching her own room she
changed from her wedding garments
jerkily, spasmodically; sometimes
hurrying as if driven, sometimes
stopping short to fall into restless
and feverish thought There was
a telegram; blood rushed Into her
face, and her fingers trembled as
she opened it. It was only a few
words of love and gratitude from
San Jose, signed “Brenda and Al­
vin Atwater."
"They don’t care who knows
they’re bride and groom,” Tony
thought. “Ob, Larry—Larry!” She
put her hands to her head and
squeezed her palms against her
temples.
In the sitting room Aunt Meg,
Aunt Sally and her daughter Vio­
let still In their wedding regalia,
were upon the Inexhaustible sub­
ject of Brenda’s marriage.
Tony sat down, banding the tele­
gram to her aunt
WNU Service.
‘‘See that? She couldn't wait to
sign her new name."
“The place seems perfectly for­
lorn without her," Miss Bruce said
tremulously.
“It’s just the time she usually
came home every night, so sweet
and amiable always, and so inter­
ested !’’
The telephone rang, and Tony
sprang to it. Her heart was beat­
ing so hard and her senses in such
confusion that it was difficult for
a moment to Identify the speaker
at the other end of the line. Ruth
—it was Ruth—
“Hello, Tony! Did you know I
was home? We got home yester­
day."
“I did. I telephoned Just before
I left the office, but you were lying
down. And I didn’t get your din­
ner message until today.”
"We made the run In ten hours!
From Los Angeles!" Ruth was hap­
pily exclamatory. “I went down
there to see my cousin Ethel and
her three delicious girls. I was so
tired. Well, Tony, this Is what I
wanted. Any chance of your com­
ing up to dinner tonight? Just the
three of us, and Larry won’t be
here until half-past seven.”
‘Td love it, but I can’t My Aunt
Sally’s here, and we’re all talking
wedding.”
“And did Brenda look pretty?”
"She looked lovely. She was aw­
fully pale this morning, but when
we got to the church—”
“I thought It was yesterday!”
"No, this morning. I suppose I’m
saying words,” Tony thought, “but
I don't know what it’s all about"
“Oh, well, then, my dear, of
course they want you at home. But,
Tony, I’ve got to see you," Ruth
protested “What are you doing
for lunch tomorrow—can you meet
me at the Palace? I’ve got to go
look at a desk for Larry. This Is
a profound secret, by the way, It’s
for his birthday. And you come
along 1”
"Tomorrow’s Thursday — I’ll be
down at the office In the morning,”
Tony mused aloud. “Yes, I could
do that But I’ll have to be back
about half-past two."
Tony went back to the women In
the sitting room.
“That was Mrs. Bellamy."
"You could have gone to dinner,
Tony.”
“I know, Aunt Meg. But I really
didn’t want to.”
She began to
straighten the books in the cases;
every muscle In her body seemed
inclined to jerk and tear; It seemed
impossible to go on quietly stack­
ing books; It seemed impossible to
speak quietly rather than to shriek.
The fever In her soul was like a
pain, more dreadful than any pain
she had ever known.
Tony stood by the window look­
ing out. The city was mantled In
fog now. It was moving softly,
stealthily in; she could telephone
Larry. About what? About any­
thing. “Larry, I made an engage­
ment with Ruth for tomorrow, and
now I have to break It, and she
doesn’t answer her telephone.” But
she would answer her telephone, of
course. Chevalier was there to at­
test that Miss Taft had not tele­
phoned ; she would say that he had
been there all afternoon.
Tony wondered tonight how much
real ecstasy and passion had gone
to Brenda's marrying. Love was
there, of course, but wbat sort of
love? She had been tremendously
pleased at Alvin's adoration; she
had been maternal and amused;
very sure of herself. All her phrases
for Alvin were motherly.
That was one way of loving; per­
haps the most satisfying of all, to
Brenda. But there were other ways.
There was the way of a woman of
twenty-live and a man nearly ten
years older; a way that Included
admiration, all the respectful hom­
age that a girl loves to give to a
“What are you grinning at, you
absurd girl?” Ruth asked, as they
kissed.
“A ridiculous dream I had about
you last night.”
They followed the head waiter
between tables, were established In
a quiet corner of the arcade; there
were menus, music.
“Crabs are back. Let’s have some­
thing crabby.”
"I always have sand dabs at the
Palace," Tony laughed. “I think
I’ve been here five times in my life,"
she confessed.
"We stayed here, Larry and I,
and Mother and little Pete, when
we first came to California,” Ruth
said, with a little change tn her
voice. She did not often speak of
her son, and when she did it was
always with this little drop In tone,
this flattening of expression.
Tony’s open bright face clouded.
As her own being, her senses and
soul responded to the sweeping first
chords of passion, it was becoming
increasingly difficult to think of
Ruth as anyone's wife—much less
the wife of tall, dark, handsome
Larry, or as anyone's mother. It
was incredible that there had been
a child, a dark, handsome eager
boy like his father—
“I had no breakfast," Tony said,
filling the gap. “So you may imag­
ine how food smells to me. I've
been st a dull club meeting all
morning.”
“How’s Mr. Fitch’s lady love?”
“Hanging around. She hasn't
written anything for months, but
she’s always trying to work up
something. It’s pitiful, I think,”
Tony said, warming to her subject
"Bess will try to get everyone en­
thusiastic about some picnic, or
some party at the Press club or So­
lari’s, and it's sickening to see that
the boys don’t warm up to It at
all.”
“It's horrible. But Isn’t It just
what a woman like that ought to
expect.”
“I know, Ruth. But you feel
sorry for her just the same."
“He doesn’t pay attention to her
any more?”
CHAPTER XVI
"He’s got another one, Mae
Muzzy,” Tony said simply. "Wbat
OWARD morning she fell Into makes me wild Is to see Mae so
uneasy dream-ridden slumber;
Ruth was a small gray mule, Ruth
bad always been a small gray mule,
It seemed, Inexplicably married to
Larry. It was all quite natural and
taken-for-granted In the dream.
They were all going to China on a
large ship with newspaper pre.-ses
crashing and crashing punctually
on the deck—
Aunt Meggy waked her at ten.
Wasn’t there a very Important club
meeting to settle the question of
clean vegetable markets, at eleven?
"At half-past ten I” Tony ejacu­
lated, out of bed before the apolo­
getic pleasant voice had stopped.
“No, no coffee, Aunt Meg. I’m lunch­
ing with Ruth; I'll make It up
then I”
She was assuming her wedding
garments with ail possible speed
as she spoke: dark blue suit, white
frill, dark blue and white hat, and
the resuscitated gardenias pinned
carefully on her shoulder.
Tony walked two brisk blocks In
morning fog, got on a street car,
transferred. At twenty-nine min­
utes to eleven she entered the big
brown imposing clubhouse, ascend­
ed In the elevator with a score of
well-dressed, middle-aged, murmur­
ing women. The auditorium was
only half filled, but the chairwoman “I Know, Ruth. But You Feel Sorry
and a few satellites were already
for Her Just the Same.”
grouped about a little table In the
center of the platform, and the sure of herself, typing away as If
press women were seated at their we could ever use a word the way
own table below. Tony slipped into she writes It, and having to con­
a chair, laid out yellow paper, mur­ sult with him every hour or so.”
mured to her associates.
Ruth was not listening. Her
Tony came out into the street alarmed eyes bad crossed the big
at quarter-past twelve, went down room; now she murmured In annoy­
to the empty office and typed a few ance:
notes, went out again and walked
"Oh, heavens, did you ever know
down to the long cool restful ar­ It to fail! There's Larry! Not a
cade of the Palace.
Ruth was word about the birthday now, Tony 1
there—not a gray mule at all, but Who's with him?”
quite smart in pale gray cloth, with
Larry had been about to seat
a gray bat and gray slippers, with himself at a near-by table; now he
violets fresh and fragrant on her saw them and came smilingly over
coat collar, and a gray fur about to stand with the proud air of an
her shoulders.
exhibitor beside the round-faced,
man, and this tearing agony of
physical need, too. Brenda had been
the first person to discover the
charm of Alvin; but everyone
adored Larry. There was not a
man in the office who had not felt
the stimulus and Inspiration of his
coming. He was forceful, dynamic,
an Instantly impressive and mem
orable personality. Alvin had taken
his completely happy wife to fout
rather ordinary rooms in Monte­
rey; Larry—ah, what wouldn't he
do—what couldn't be do for the
woman he loved I
While she thought her odd rest­
less disconnected thoughts, Tony
bad been staring out of the win­
dow. Now, without being exactly
conscious of what she did, she went
into the kitchen, propping the
swinging door open so that she
could go on with the general con­
versation.
"How’s potatoes Suzette, Aunt
Meg, and a salad, and the custard?"
"Oh, now, listen,” Miss Bruce
said, with an awakening face. “If
you’re going to have potatoes Su­
zette, count your poor old aunt
In. We haven't bad them for
months!”
“Just as easy to do six as four,
Aunt Sally.”
“Well, my dear, now that you
mention it, I do believe I’ll tele­
phone Allan—”
Time droned on; It would always
be like this, now. Dishes and toast
and the foggy view of southern
downtown from the window, and
the voices of stupid sweet affection­
ate aunts. Tony’s body writhed;
she felt as If her soul was writh­
ing.
After a while the Cravens were
going, with many weary good-bys.
Everything seemed very quiet
and lonesome without Brenda, but
as she lay awake that night look­
ing wide-eyed at the angle of moon­
shine that came down the shaft
and kept the room bright, Tony
was not thinking of her sister. Her
body seemed on springs; there was
no sleep anywhere; there was no
lying still.
T
squarely built, smiling, blond young
man who was his companion. Ruth’s
short-sighted eyes blinked for a
minute; then she halt rose with a
delighted cry.
"Joe 1 My dear 1 Joe Vander-
wall! Where on earth did you come
from?"
The newcomer stooped to kiss
her; was presented to Tony. Tony
saw pleasant blue eyes and liked
the simple friendly smile. What
was he—Danish, Norse?
“This Is—what?” Ruth explained,
her faded face a flush of excite­
ment and satisfaction as they all
took their places. “Joe, you’re my
half-brother’s son—what does that
make me? Step-aunt? Anyway,”
she said to Tony, “this Is Mother's
adored grandson, and Carrie's
brother—you've heard us talk of
Caroline?”
"I knew there were children, but
I thought they were the sand box
and romper size,” Tony said.
The room, that had seemed to
rise and turn and waver as Larry
came up, settled Into place, and
they were all easily talking to­
gether.
"This feller got In on a boat this
morning,” Larry said. "I tried to
telephone you, tried to telephone
your mother. No use. So I thought
I’d take him to lunch and then try
again.”
“Well, Joe, you darling," Ruth
kept saying happily. Her face was
radiant. Tony furtively studied the
nephew of whom she was evidently
very fond and proud. He looked
nice. Fair hair somewhat rumpled;
line big lean brown hands; age per­
haps thirty.
She had often heard the names
“big Joe” and “little Joe." Big Joe
was Ruth's halt-brother; Mrs. Pat­
terson was very proud of him. He
was a—what was It, an engineer of
some sort? Anyway, they had al­
ways lived in East Africa, big Joe
and his wife, and there were “chil­
dren." Caroline was one of the chil­
dren, evidently, and this nice Joe
another.
Ruth was Immediately deep in
hospitable plans. Joe must stay
with them, of course, and she
would get Just a few nice people
for a dinner that night. He had to
dine with a scientist In Berkeley.
Tomorrow night, then? Swell. And
Tony, too? But Tony would have
to run away to the Friday Night
“What Is the Friday Night?"
asked Joe.
“A dance,” Tony explained smil­
ing.
“Could I go?”
“I could certainly get yon a card
for the dance,” Ruth told him. "I’m
one of their patronesses. But Tony
goes—”
"As the social reporter of the
Call,” supplied Tony, as Ruth hesi­
tated.
“Don’t you like to dance?"
“I adore It. But there’s a lot
more to these dances than danc­
ing."
"1’11 bet there Is, I’ll bet there
is 1” Doctor Vanderwall agreed.
"Ruth, she’s grand 1” he aald de­
lightedly of Tony, who laughed and
flushed in a girl’s pleasure at the
immediate conquest.
"Behave yourself, Joe," said
Ruth, not quite pleased, despite her
indulgent tone and smile. “I never
beard you so foolish 1"
“The bad news for Miss Taft Is
that I’m here for three years.”
"Three years!”
“Yep. Ilochenheimer foundation.
Flora and fauna. I’m to have a lab
down at Carmel-by-the-Sea, wher­
ever that is!"
"Oh, it’s a lovely place I” Tony
said enthusiastically. “My sister
lives at Monterey—at least," Tony
amended, flushing and laughing,
“she has since yesterday.”
“Since yesterday! What Is this—
a joke?”
“No, seriously. She was married
yesterday.”
“You Taft girls seem to be go­
ing fast,” said Joe.
“You must forgive him, Tony;
he's quite crazy today!” Ruth apol­
ogized.
“No, I'm not. Aunt Ruth. But
I'm excited."
(TO BE CONTINUED)
'