The Washington times., 1920-07-17

whose Dresest serial has w~s eaS
D~uslar sseeess.
Copyright. 1870. BY King Feature Syndicate
Inc.
w yaEN we ssutered into vsfs
w living room at the end of .
w sumptuous dinner j almost
had to pinch myself to convince my
self that II was all real
Vale and Lane had two other
guests besides us They had been
introduced as Mr.. and Mrs. Pettin-
gill. a name which ntted them well
enough. But all through dinner
Uncle Ned" and Aunt Moilie." and
once OF twice I had pulled myself
up on the verge OF addressing them
in the same informal way. They
seemed like old friends to me. But
never did two people seem more
incongruous than they as the Uncle
and Aunt Of exotic, creamy-voiced.
provocative Val
Uncle Ned--to give him the title
that just seemed to nt--is a tall.
rangy. gray-haired man with big
hands and big feet that shuttle a
bit in Congress gaiters when he
walks. He wore formal frock
coat of the sort Henry Clay affected
over half a century ago. a boiled
shirt" with a low collar under II. q
ready-made bow tie and sweeping
white mustache that seems part of
his costume. He kept stroking II
with knotted, veined old hands
guiltless of acquaintance with any
manicure, past or present.
At frst glance Uncle New seemed
like a caricature of a civil war
III dar
his clear skin and, above all, the
keenest, bluest eyes I've ever seen
make him personality. He
breathes power and ruggedness. and
he has an air of being accustomed
to have people listen when his
drawling voice rolls out with its
slow air of nnality.
Aunt Mollie Is dear little old
lady. with apple cheeks. little
brown beads for eyes, and thick,
gray hair, parted in the middle and
crowning her head in neat braids.
Her figure Is scant across the chest
and rolled out q bit under her
waist OF brown shot silk. She wore
a round collar OF tatting. large
pink cameo to fasten II and
black velvet ribbon clasp in anne
thysts on each of her round, pretty
white wrists.
WHAT COULD THEY SEEs
Severe gold-trimmed spectacles
that would slide down from her
little fine nose as she worked, and
a bag from which she kept drop
ping the gray wool she was knit
ting into socks even at dinner,
completed my inventory of the
dearest little old lady Id ever seen.
Val seemed to adore the old cou-
pie, and they treated her . II she
were the apple of their eye. And
yet they were precisely the sort Of
people whom / would have imag-
ined holding up their hands in Pur-
itanical horror at Walls bizarre cos
tunes and exotic manner. But she
and they were clearly on a basis
OF complete understanding and af-
fection almost more complete.
couldn't make 1t out What
under the sun could this amazing
old pair see in Val Cosby? Didn't
they disapprove of her? They are
clearly home folks from her part
OF the country. Don't they know
the story of the way Val 1ured
Lane from his poor crazy first wife,
Loretta?
A question from Aunt Molie
promised an answer to one Of mine
ere long.
Miss Harrison" said she, "our
Val tells me that you amt from a
big city, either. It's wonderful how
you two girls have got on to city
ways. You got here first, though.
Are you real careful what folks
you let our Val meet?"
The little apple old lady
was peering at me intently, shrewd-
ly over her glasses. And out of the
fail of NV eve I could see her huS-