HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1940-12-19, Page 12PAGE FOUR WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES
taking her dancing was that it was
the quickest way to get Sue into his
arms,* * *
On Thanksgiving morning Dot
wore a gingham apron, and the small
..... modern apartment was filled with the
unaccustomed and homel odors of
w*'roa-sltin&. turkey with sage dressing, of
boiling h silVer-skinned onions, the
sharp, mouth-watering tang of a
cranberry sauce as Gran made it up
. in White Creek. She hummed quite
happily as she spread the white dam
ask dinner cloth on her living room
table and arranged the crystal goblets
and the shining silver. The domestic
life, she ' observed, had its own re
wards. Stephen, would make the
drinks; and if he returned in time
from the football game.with Sue, Dus
ty could crack the nuts.
Dinner was set for five o’clock, that
being a pleasant compromise between
White Creek and New York, and fif-
»^ti*en minutes before the hour Stephen
■ ' arrived, his arms full of tawny Chrys
anthemums.
He put them into her arms, saying,
“Unless, my love, you’d prefer paper
ones.”Dot buried her nose in the soft, fur-
;• ry petals. "Stephen, really, I wonder
t. this year how I am ever going to get
through Christmas. Sometimes I
wake up from a nightmare. It’s usual
ly that I stop stock still in the middle
of Fifth Avenue screaming at the
sight of a red and green holly wreath
•until policemen drag me away — I
suppose to Bellevue. I never find out
where they’re taking me — I always
wake up.” • ., , .Stephen nodded. "The holiday busi
ness does take the zip out of the spec
ial days, doesn’t it ? Sounds as if a
vacation is in order. Had you con
sidered a honeymoon cruise?”
"Oh, my eg, I couldn’t bear it.” Dot
pulled her chartreuse velvet house
coat around her and sat down on the
love seat helpless with laughter. Can
you imagine what would happen if
we should get married? The. firm
would think up some perfectly indes
cribable wedding bells and cake dec
orations and favors, gift wrappings
and bon voyage items, and we’d leave
in a perfect welter of crepe paper.
Nothing could be more awful.”
- "We could” said Stephen quietly,
“forget about the office entirely and
just disappear to a nice palmy isle.
It can be managed.”
Just then Sue and Dusty bounded
in noisily,'breathlessly reciting details
of a wildly thrilling game, and asking
if Dot and Stephen knew the Harv
ard-Yale score. All was cheerful con
fusion as Stephen went out in the kit
chen and- Ellen appeared . to know if
She should make the gravy.
It- was a strange dinner, Dot
thought, after it was all over^ In fact,
LI1P into his eyes. And then Stephen had
quickly handled the strained moment
7 and said gracefull, "To Thanksgiving.
Mav we all be grateful for what we
"r now have, and want no more than we
;<-!■ deserve.” And then he turned to Dot.
ph
an
eF pn
in-
thj
er erf inf
lyl
nej Dot said, _____. _____.
inl even allusions to business permitted.”
Mil After dinner Sue said, half apologiz-
Stk ing to Dot, that she didn’t want , to
Ca’. spoil a holiday, but would they mind
for awfully if she ran over her song for lyji tonight? There was a tricky phrase
dis Of two she wanted to perfect. And
foil Stephen said that now that the morale
old was completely broken down, he
I' Would like to try-out his new^fortune
There were tw.o men in Sue’s life,
I now have, and want no more than we
and added, "To your perspective, -dar
ling. Let it return to you bright and
polished and no longer askew. And
may you once again feel the holiday
Spirit in its gloriously fresh and prist
ine state, unadorned and unwrapped!”
"Which is good enough,” Dusty said
a little sharply, “for one of Mitchel-
tree’s windows adorned at this
Thanksgiving moment with white pat-
ente leather holly wreaths.”
'This is a holiday. Not
saliFo|
tall
tH
Mil telling game on Sue afterwards.
por There were tw.o men in Sue’s life,
Mtj the chart said, a tall dark one and a
me; light one. There was a letter, money,
at [ and a journey, and a bad black card
roo Which meant , grief or sorrow. Then
Tht Stephen shuffled the cards as dircct-
cati ed, laid three in front of Sue and ask-
cliq ed her to choose one. He nodded in
ly.I satisfaction , and . announced that Sue
paii would get her wish.
ora Dot said' she simply cotildnt bear
fact to know what the future held in store
i for her and saw Dusty looking earn"'
eStiy at her. But he t urned away
> quickly ‘and addressed Sue. "I’d give
' a dime to know what you wished.’
It "No sale,” laughed Sue.
I On the Way up to the broadcast
Dusty referred to the subject again.
"Ot course, beautiful, it wouldn’t .have
anything to do with love?”
Sue gaid, "You don’t get your wish
if you tell. That’s one ot the rules.”
Dusty settled back in the seat and
then with sudden decision put his arm
around her. "Sue, you darling, I’m
simply. Utterly nuts about you. Can’t
you see?” He drew her close and kiss
ed her. For a time their lips clung
while the blood pounded in his ears
and he told himself he shouldn’t be
doing this — not yet — Sue was aw
fully young and shouldn’t be hurried
into a thing like love — this over
whelming love' he had for her.
She drew away gently. “Dusty,”
she pleaded. "Pleaise—■”
"I’m sorry,” said Dusty. “No, darn
it, I’m not! You're yronderful, and
I’ve been dying to do just that for
days.”
, "But what about Dot?”
"Sue,” Dusty said, taking her -hand,
“Dot and I were once in love. We
talked a' good deal about getting mar
ried, but something always happened.
If we had gone through with it any
one of those times we might have
been deliriously happy. But we have
been drifting apart. Good friends, you
know, but nothin g more. The last
time I talked to Dot about marriage
she laughed at me.”
Sue looked earnestly into Dusty’s
eyes. “I do- like you, Dusty, better
than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Well, that’s something to start
with,” Dusty said, pulled out his cig
arette case. “And I wish you’d think
about this, because .from now. on I’m
going to make love to you at every
possible opportunity.’
“It’s always nice to know ahead of
time,” Sue said smoothly. “I’ll have a
cigarette.”
“You can’t have one,” said Dusty.
“You’re just too darned careless with
that voice of yours. And now about
this other matter — 'this thing called
love. What about a little concentra
tion?”
“I’ll write it down on .my list of
things to do tomorrow: “Buy new
toothbrush; Make appointment for
hair; Write Gran and Think about
Dusty.”
“That’s fine,” Dusty said, "only the
Dusty item ought to be at the top of
the list — and at the bottom, too. And
speaking of Gran, Joel is coming to
town.”
Sue half remembered Joel, and ask
ed, “Didn’t he once have a black eye?
He came in to play with me and I
found a piece of raw beefsteak in the
ice box for him and tied it on.”
“Joel,” Dusty said, “perpetually had
a black eyes when he was young.” But
they were almost at the studio and he
didn’t like the way they had lost the
train of thought. There was only one
way to recover it and he proposed to
take it. He didn’t add that Joel had
said he wanted particularly to meet
Sue Garland if she looked as her voice
sounded. Dusty’s new protege, Joel
had written, was a wow.
Dusty took her firmly in his arms.
CHAPTER VI
Joel Paine stood up to get his coat
and bag as the train dived into the
black tunnel that led to Grand Cent
ral. He was not so tall as his broth
er Dusty, but he had the same power
ful shoulders. Where Dusty’s hair and
eyes were dark, Joel’s were light. His
nose was rather longer and twisted
oddly to one side as the result of a
football collision. His eyes were his
most remarkable feature — wide, blue,
marked definitely at the corhers with
laugh crinkles.
He was conscious of the curious
excitement‘which the sounds of New
York always brought him. It was a
stimulating city, over-stimulating, in
fact, but good every now. and then.
Nevertheless, after a day or two of
racing around, theatres and a night
club or two, Joel was always glad to
get on the train for White Creek.
How Dusty ever stood the grind, he
couldn’t imagine. It took Joel a week
to get over a trip to New York. One
got used to is, Joel supposed, although
Dusty had looked more than usually
fagged, the last time he saw him.
“Why don’t you give all this up
and come back to White Creek and
run the mills with me?” Joel had urg
ed, and, as Dusty had burst into a
rage at the silly notion, Joel had add
ed quietly, "but it isn’t a silly notion
at all. The bank has agreed to lend
‘me the money if I can get somebody
to go in with me.”
Joel looked unusually grim as he
Walked down the aisle preparing to
get off. He had everything just about
lined up, if Dusty would only come
through With some money* And it
was pretty important that Dusty
should. In fact, if he didn’t, Joel
might as well call it all off.
Dusty was about the grandest guy
in the world, Joel thought as he step
ped into a taxi and gave Dusty’s of
fice address. Gosh! If it hadn’t been
for Dusty, where would he be? At
first Dusty had left Joel at home with
the housekeeper while he worked his
way through Harvard. And that did
.not go at all, Joel remembered with
a grin. Dusty had to get him into a
near-by prep school where he could
keep his eye on Joel. And it was a
good thing, too. He never would have
made the grade if it hadn’t been for
Dusty. How Dusty ever managed to
get them both through Harvard he
couldn’t quite imagine now that he
had some acquaintance with the diffi
culty of earning money. But in these
latter years it had been easier for both
of them. Dusty managed to make
plenty here in this hectic city, and the
old estate in White Creek had begun
to pay a little instead of eating every
thing up in taxes and interest. And
that was due to Joel’s efforts — fixing
up some of the old houses and the old
Paine block on Lower Hill so that
they could rent them.
When you had a’brother like Dusty,
who had been practically the only par
ent you had "known in the important
growing years, there was jolly well
nothing you wouldn’t do for him.
It was odd how your life settled in
a kind of pattern after a time—Dusty
down here and Joel back in White
Creek. Probably Joel would end up
there — he would get the mills run
ning somehow — and probably he’d
marry. Jinny Ransom. He had kissed
her just last night. Joel’s heart beat
faster at the memory. She certainly
was a darned sweet girl.
They had been in Jinny’s car — she
had picked him up and had taken the
new road up the mountain, now turn
ed wild and bleak with only a few of
the leaves clinging to the trees. At
the bend in the road beside the pond
where he had gone sxyimming when
he was a boy, they had stopped —
and he had kissed her, and she had
been warm and yielding.
■The train stopped with a .bump and
Joel hurried down the platform with
the jostling crowd of passengers and
redcaps.
Dusty slapped Joel on the back and
gripped his hand.’ He said, “Well, old-
timer! Do you want to come with
me to a rehearsal?”
Joel grinned and said, "Sure.” He
wondered if Sue Garland would be
there, but did not tell Dusty how an
xious he was to see what Sue was
like. He had made up his mind he
must see her, the evening he had stop
ped in to talk to Gran.
Gran had sat there in that musty,
ancient-smelling parlor, with her cane
by her side. Nearly eighty, she was,
and as hale and hearty as they came.
Why, her hair wasn’t even gray, Joel
remembered with a start. Joel had
stopped in to ask for some advice
about the mills, and Gran had really
listened. Darned few people knew
how to listen. Then Joel had turned
on Sue Garland’s program. Gran’s
little black eyes were as bright as
those of a field mouse. And her in
finitely delicate wrinkles chased each
•other into a pattern of satisfaction.
She tapped her polished flat shoe on
the floor in time with the music. And
the song had gone straight into Joel’s
heart, almost as if someone had been
singing to him and, no one else were
listening, It was an odd experience,
as he sat there, listening with hie eyes
closed.
He knew he had to see her.
Afterwards Gran opened a musty
cupboard and took out photographs
and showed him pictures of both Dot
and Sue. But he wasn’t interested in
•Dot. Hq had to see every one of the
pictures of Sue. He had to, It might
just, be awfully important.
First there were the pictures of her
as a little girl as he remembered her,
with fair curly hair. And then there
were some solemn ones taken at
boarding school, with her hair parted
in the middle. The gay college pic
tures followed, showing her on skiis
and snowshoes. There was an envel
ope of snaps taken abroad, most of
them Scenic, but every now and then
Joel could pick out a small figure that
was certainly Sue Garland, laughing,
with her hair blowing across her face.
So when he saw her Standing there
in the studio at the microphone she
wasn’t at all a stranger to him,
The first things they said to each
other were rather absurd. The only
thing Joel knew was that he had to
keep her there, keep her talking. And
he noticed that there was a kind of
glow to her that the pictures didn’t
show. Her nose was quite like Gran’s,
he discovered, straight, with the same
thin delicate nostrils. Her eyes were
Wide apart and very blue. Now the
pupils were dark and deep with a kind
of suppressed excitement. #
Joel supposed that singing for the
radio audience made you look like
that. He didn’t know that Sue’s heart
was beating faster than usual and that
the brightness in her cheeks was not
out of a compact,
Dusty came up, then, with his watch
in his hands. "I've got to run,” he
said- “Joel, why don’t you look after
Sue for a little while until I get
through this next hour? There’s a
restaurant* in the building. You and
Sue have lunch and I'll join you for
coffee,” . .
So here they were sitting opposite
each other across a stiffly starched
expanse of linen on. the thirteenth
floor in the Skytop Restaurant. .
"Joel took up the menu and said, I
hope you really have a good appetite
— I’m ravenous and want an honest-
to-goodness lunch.”
Sue said, "I’m always famished."
Joel countered, "There’s a nice
white cloud floating in back of your
head. Do you always have your head
in the clouds like that?”
She laughed, not because it was
funny, really, but she had to laugh.
Because she was having such an un
expected, good time with Joel Paine
and it was such fun to be dining here •
way up so high. .
They talked about a lot of things,
mostly White Creek and Gran. Then
Joel told her sooner than he had in
tended to about the night he heard
her sing. Last week’s program.
She put her hands together quickly
in a little gesture of her own, raised
one eyebrow and said, "That’s inter
esting. That very evening I had the
most curious sensation while I was
singing — I felt as if someone imp
ortant was listening. Only then,” she "
said lightly, “I thought it was the
scout from Hollywood. I couldn’t •
know it was you.”
"This isn’t a line or anything,” Joel
said, “I mean every word I am say
ing.”
“So do I," said Sue, her eyes large
and animated.-
Joel saw Dusty coming in the door
and had just time enough to ask rath
er huskily if Sue would tea dance in
the afternoon. He added, before Dusty
reached their table, “It’s. terribly
strange we should know’ so ' much
about each other, that I should know
Gran so well, and that both of us have
lived in White Creek — but have met
so seldom.”
She laughed a little and said, “Yes.
In fact, if you must know, I feel that
all my life up to this moment has been
a stupid waste of time.”
CHAPTER VII
She had cancelled an appointment
for a fitting, to get her hair done be
fore dancing with Joel Paine.' While
the wind roared in her ears she sat
under the drier and lqoked at a pic- *
ture of herself in a current magazine.
In a gossip column she stumbled up
on a buried mention of herself and
“that current bachelor-about-town”,
Dustin Paine. She read with a feeling
of mingled surprise and self-conscious
elation that they had been seen to
gether at one of the most popular
night clubs.
“Dusty,” she thought, “is a darling.
What would I have done without him?
It’s awfully nice to nave him in love
with me, besides being definitely ex
citing. I wonder if he has seen .this,
and if he has, what he thinks of it.” •
She adored going about with Dusty.
She liked to have people’s eyebrows
lift and she enjoyed hearing the sibil
ant whispers which carried some such
remarks as “Get an eyeful of the girl
with Dustin Paine!” Not that Dusty
had a Hollywood profile, but he did
have an arrogant way of carrying his
head, and a great many* people had
their minds on him. What Sue didn’t
know was that quite lately people
were replying. “Oh, don’t you know?
That s Sue Garland, the Singer. You
ought to listen some evening — she’s
on the radio around nine o’clock.”
Dusty was a distinct asset* He
made her feel precious, and edred for.
His lovely smoothness eased them out
of the clutches of people who were
likely to become borihg; effortlessly
provided the best theatre seats, the
right table and superb food. But it
wasn’t only that. It was much more;
his rich laughter, his attractive brown
ness, the way his hair grew back on
his forehead," and the level gaze of his
tree-bark eyes. Though *when he look
ed at her earnestly and long, as he
occasionally did, as if beneath the