HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1938-12-15, Page 3BY EVELYN SHULER
THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE
llong?” he demanded under his
breath. “Miss Vandersill is in a hell
of a humor, threatening to leave,
You dumb fool, if we lose this order
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 115, 1»‘3H______ ____ ________________________*
I
35
THIS YEAR BUY
.................< ... '."I....... i.lli, I' — ... . I '.... . . <
Starting this Week
CHAPTER I
Andrea’s eyes were misty with
dreams as her slim hands caressed
the bridal gown she wore. Her
mouth curved with wistful hope; all
the trust of a woman on the thres
hold of life shone in her lovely face.
Serene beauty surrounded her like a
benediction, but there was tumult in
her young heart. She stood before
a full-length mirror, haloed with
light, her slenderness sheathed in
heavy ivory satin, Delicate lengths
of tulle floated about her like mist.
But the wedding dress wasn’t for
her, The ethereal beauty of the dress
that seemed a part of her own being
a perfect setting for her
loveliness, was not hers to
It could never be hers.
This wedding gown, like
other beautiful creations
youthful
possess.
all the
Andrea
wore each day, was borrowed finery.
Her dreams had been borrowed, too,
from the spectacle of other women’s
happiness. For Andrea MaWbray was
the chief model in the exclusive es-
stablishment of ‘Chambeaux et Cie,
which had for it& clientele the" cream
of New York society. From 10 until
6 each day she briefly loaned her i
beauty to the gowns that other wo-I
men would own and enjoy. 1 *
Melissa, the maid who knelt at her
feet, tilted her dusky face upward
admiringly as she sat back to study
the effect of her handiwork.
“There ain’t never been a bride as
lovely as you, Miss Andrea,” the
maid said. “It’s too bad it ain’t
your own wedding dress.” The wist
ful expression on Andrea’s face gave
way to a smile. It was so easy for
her to think of herself in her own
wedding gown.
“You’re the queen of hearts, hon
ey,” Melissa went on.
Andrea leaned happily toward the
mirror looking into the depths of her
a church aisle toward the man she
loved. Then she returned to reality
and with a faint sigh turned from
the mirror and walked with measur
ed, stately steps to the head of the
great staircase.
She might have posed for a paint
ing by an old master as she drifted
down the richly carpeted stairs, her
heels sj-nking deep' into the lush pile
of the beige-colored velvet. Below
stretched a vast salon that was the
last word in modernistic decoration.
There' were dim rich rangings from
flpor to ceiling, soft flattering lights,
great vases filled with flowers, soft
luxurious divans covered with leop
ard skins.
All eyes turned upward to watch
her progress. Followed by Melissa,
who- carried billowing folds of satin
and tulle heaped in regal armfuls.
Andrea came, a silvery phantom, one
slim hand on the mahogany bllus-
trade, the other lifting the satin
skirt to reveal the tips of tiny white
slippers.
At exactly the right moment a
blue-colored spotlight dramatically
illumined the moving figure, Mir
rors from walls and ceiling shimmer
ed wth a score of lovely brides mov
ing in a dazzling possession. Her
descent completed, Andrea paused
While Melissa deftly whirled the
lengths of satin and tulle behind her
A male figure detached itself from
the group of spectators and came to
wards her,
Andrea’s gaze travelled absently
from the glistening patent-leather
shoes, the knife-edged dark grey
morning trousers and the immacu-
I late tailored cutaway to pale grey
“If we sell this wedding | eyes that bored coldly into hers.
There ws no doubt about it. Mon
sieur Chambeaux was angry. His ex
pression remained sauve but the girl
read with terror the irritable fury
and seehing annoyance that edged
his words.
“Why the devil hve you been so
own liquid hazel eyes. The queen of
hearts was she, indeed, when there
was only one heart in the world over
which she longed to reign.
Love Hong
“David, darling,” her heart sang.
To Andrea, David was like sunlight.
She could imagine his face now re
flected in the mirror, as if he stood
looking over her shoulder. The warm
impetuous vitality in his smile; the
laughter in his blue eyes; his blond
hair that seemed to catch and hold
the light.
And he could sing, too. In fact, all
that David had to give was his song,
but to Andrea it was the treasure of
her world. His lyric-tenor voice
came from a singing heart. She al
ways listened to the radio when Da
vid sang at a small local station,
feeling with an inner sureness that
his words were meant only for her.
When his voice soared upward, An
drea’s heart went winging with him.
“I’m all yours, David,” she whis
pered to the image in the mirror.
“•Every bit of me.”
That David was poor, little known
with only his voice to conquer a
World that appalled his shy, hesitant
spirit, served merely to kindle An
drea’s protective instinct.
The maid laid a halo of orange
blossoms and lace, smartly
ed to resemble an ornate
wedding headdress, softly
curling tendrils of the girl’s
hair.
“You better hurry, Miss
They’re waiting downstairs.” Melis
sa’s voice summoned hei’ back to re
ality as she stood forgetful of time
and place.
dress as is, it’ll be a lucky day for
the shop—and all of us,”
But Andrea Mowbray could not be
roused from her dreams so easily.
She wasn’t just a model in a shop
wearing a borrowed wedding dress—•
in her mind she was walking down
The man’s face, smooth and ex-
pressionless, revealed no trace of his
' anger as he turned to the blonde girl
j who sat impatiently flicking ashes
' from her cigarette,
Andrea glanced at the girl regally
erect before her, The legend “spoil
ed society beauty” was written all
over her. She sat enthroned with
all the arrogance that weath and as
surance could give; a rich mink
coat draped the chair behind her,
a matching fur toque topped her hair
Outside the worst blizzard of the
winter lashed New York. Snow was
piled high, but in the establish
ment of M. Chambeaux was the at
mosphere of eternal spring which so
many of his patrons pursued.
“I had this wedding gown created
especially for you, Miss Vandersill,”
M. Chambeaux was saying, his ac
cented voice conciliatory — cajoling,
“It is only for beauty such as yours.
These things take time. We, too, are
artists,” and then, his voice Maw
bray, so that Miss Vandersill can
see the line over hip.”
They are so Much More
Appreciated
7
fashion-
Russian
on the
chestnut
Andrea.
She
a working girl displaying
glorious golden moments a
wedding gown that would
year’s salary to buy — a
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downcast, somewhat very
’and struggling with an
to cry, began to strip for
Hard to Please
Struggling for composure. Andrea
complied automatically, her figure
rigidly tense; her mind still reeling
from the harsh reality that had so
ruthlessly shattered her momentary
happiness. Her dream world lay in
broken fragments at her feet. For
her there was no future bright with
the promise of realized love. Van
ished was her delusion that she was
walking high-hearted and hopeful
toward the man of her heart,
was only
for a few
gorgeous
take her
wedding gown which this woman be
fore her would wear to the strains of
Lohengrin.
Libby Vandersill, of the Gotham
400, evidenced no pleasure as her
prospective wedding gown was dis
played before her eyes. Her pretty
forehead was puckered.
“Too, severe,” she said petulantly.
“You know, Monsieur, that I asked
for something more distinctive. This
is anybody’s wedding dress.”
M. Chambeaux and his coterie of
fitters closed in around the angry
Miss Vandersill with placating words
“Beauty such as yours would
adorn any gown, Miss Vandersill,”
dicating with nervous gesture.
“Well, change it then,” the girl
ordered imperiously.
Andrea and the unfortunate gown
were bundled unceremoniously up the
stairs as other models postured be
fore the spoiled beauty on a succes
sion of traveling outfits and sports
clothes.
Andrea,
frightened
inclination
next appearance.
“Your sister, Eloise, is here,” Me
lissa called in through the half-open
door. “She’s coming up.”
A tall, dark girl entered the room.
She looked like a striking, dark, dra
matic Andrea, for there was a start
ling resemblance between them. But
where Andrea was golden and fair,
her sister had as luscious warmth of
old wine. She wore with easy grace
an ensemble that might have come
from M. Chambeaux’s own establish
ment.
“I’ve come to get a coat on your
discount,” Eloise announced.
“Oh, Eloise, not today,” Andrea
cried, rushing to kiss her sister. “I
am in a terrible jam. Miss Vander-
sill has just turned down the wed
ding dress and Monsieur blames me.”
“Forget it and don’t worry,” Eloise
replied philosophically. “It’s all in
the days work.”
“Wait for me, I won’t be very
much longer,” Andrea said as she
donned a daring, ultra-modern bath
ing suit of black lace which revealed
its brevity in tantalizng glimpses
beneath a fitting cape. '
“Vandersill will probably go for
that in a big way,” Eloise comment
ed as Andrea started toward the door.
As she came down the stairs An
drea noticed that Chambeaux’s tem
per seemed to have softened some
what. He had selected Andrea, from
all his models, as the perfect type
for the all-revealing,, scant beach
wear, where flaws in form could not
be camouflaged. Another masculine
mind confirmed his* judgment later
as Andrea made her second demon
stration, swaying and posturing be
fore Miss Vandersill.
Enter the Man
Dean Gilthrop, waiting outside in
his car for liis fiancee, had grown
impatient at the delay and, entering
the ship in search of Libby, was now
interested in the panorama of lovely
girlhood that paraded his fiancee’s
honeymoon wardrobe. Beautiful wo
men were. no novelty to this young
scion of a hard-working father,
Whose millions had given Gilthrop,
at 32, the polish of Groton and Har
vard, the dolights of foreign travel
the world of sports and now the
promise of marriage into a family
whose wealth matched his own.
When Andrea entered he saw
merely an extraordinarily pretty girl
possessed of the perfection of form
that might be expected in a profes-
ftg* sional model. He noted her slim,
♦n- white beauty appreciatively, but as
511G turned felt a momentary aston-
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EXETER S
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FOR BABY FOR BOYS
Cup and Plate Sets
Granite 40c 60c and 65c
Aluminum 50s
“Popeye” Series
Silver Spoon 50c
Knife and Fork 50c
Silver Knife and Fork Sets
50c, 85c
FOR MEN
Pocket Knives
35c, 50c, 85c
Gillette Razor Sets
25c, 59c, $1.50
Probak Razor Sets 29c
Shaving Brushes 50c
Shaving Mirrors 25c
Coleman Lanterns $5.95
ishment at the soft appealing beauty
of her face, far different from the
hard, complacent self-appraisal of
the usual model.
“That’s divine,” approved Miss
Vandersill, her eyes alight with in
terest as she surveyed the black,lace
creation, “Take off the cape.”
Andrea complied, revolving slowly
SO' that every curve and line of her
lovely body were revealed.
“Dean, don’t you like it?” asked
Libby, turning enthusiastically to her
fiance.
“It’s a sensation,” Gilthrop' agreed
“but, darling, is it—eh—quite the
thing for you? It doesn’t leave much
to the imagination, does it?” His
eyes continued to dwell on Andrea.
“Don’t you think my figure could
stand it?” Libby challenged.
“That’s not the point. It’s a mat
ter of good taste.”
“You Victorian!” scoffed Libby
“I’ll take this as it is, Monsieur
Chambeaux.”
“Let me look at it again,” ordered
Gilthrop, a touch of anger in his
voice.
Inspection
As Andrea stood obediently before
the calculating male gaze of Libby
Vandersill’s fiance, she felt self-con
scious for the first time in her six-
months’ career as a model. Women
looked at the clothes she wore,
thinking only of their own beauty.
Andrea felt this man looking at her
—and not impersonally. 1-Ie was the
type she had always detested—blase
and arrogant. How different from
Her eyes lifted to Gilthrop
a flood of color
rise from her toes
with delicate rose,
gathered the cape
David.
face appealingly;
which seemed to
suffused her face
Instinctively she
more closely about her.
“Take off the cape.*’ Gilthrop said
mercilessly. And with the narrowed
eyes of M. Chambeaux upon her,
Andrea reluctantly removed the pro
tective garment.
‘Gilthrop felt curiously moved as
he studied the girlish figure, child
like in Its fragility, that was reveal
ed at 'his whim. The sophisticated
elegance of the salon seemed sud
denly to fade, leaving only this vir
ginal figure that might have risen
like a nymph from the foam of a
dawn-lit sea.
“The girl’s lovely,” he thought
with a touch of contrition. Man of
the world that he was he felt a sud
den conviction that before him stood
girlhood untouched and unawakened
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Scissors 35c, 40c, 75c
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Crackers only 15c
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forks
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PHONE 86
Dean felt drawn to the girl, No one
had stirred him like this. His inter
est shone in his eyes ao he continued
to look intently at the beautiful fi
gure. He wondered who the girl
was, what her history might be and
her name.
■Turning, he met the hostile, com
prehensive glance of his fiancee. Lib
by Vandersill knew the men of her
world. She had played the game of
snaring them foi’ several years anti
her aroused jealousy touched her
words with acid.
“This suit you dislike so much
seems to interest you,’’ she said cau-
tically.
“It is not the suit which interests
me. I consider it vulgar in the ex
treme. I wouldn’t want my wife to
be seen in it.’’
“It’s beautiful and I intend to have
it,’’ Libby announced witth a flash
of temper.
“Its cheap-
a burlesque queen,’’
ed.
Her face flushed,
sill’s veneer cracked
her vicious temper lashed through.
She raised her voice.
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•common. Fit only for
Gilthrop retort-
Libby Vander
wide open and
suit
It's
and
the
’ Victim of Venom
“Cheap and common! The
wouldn’t look that way on me.
this girl’s fault. She’s cheap
common!"
An electric silence fell over
room.
As the incredible words seared
into hei* mind. Andrea’s first im
pulse was to strike back at the pam
pered woman before her. She
wanted to cry “Yoxt lie!”—to reach
out and lash and hurt as this woman
felt free to do because she had mon
ey. But she. stood meekly still, sick
at heart and hating the couple who
sat before her with a violence that
almost sickened her.
She saw M. Chambeaux struggling
to maintain his smooth exterior as
he focused a malignant glance upon
her.
“He blames me for this.” Andrea
thought despairingly, and as she
swept the whole circle of eyes rivet
ed on her she read condemnation in
all of them. They cared nothing for
her feelings. Here was the rich Mies
Vandersill — would she cancel her
order? The same fear hardened all
their eyes.
“I’m going,” Miss Vandersill an
nounced furiously.
Only one person in the room felt
sympathy for Andrea. It was Dean
Gilthrop, who felt a miserable flush
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of shame for the crude comment of
the woman he was about to marry.
He tried to catch Andrea’s eyes to
convey with a look a message of
apology—but she kept her gaze
averted from him.
Gathering her furs with cold dig
nity, Miss Vandersill started toward
the door. The circle of employees
stood silent. Gilthrop dropped a step
behind, unobtrusively drew one of
his cards from his case and scrib
bled a few words on it. Approach
ing Andrea, he said softly: “Please—
I want you to have this.”
For the second time that hay a
deep color dyed the girl’s cheeks.
Startled she pulled back and turned
an indignant gaze full upon him. Was
he offering her a tip?
“No,” she said emphatically, and
thrusting away his arm. “Nothing-—
ever—from you.”
(To be continued)