Smyrna times., 1924-01-30
SCARLET TRUMPETS
BY JANE JoRDoN
20. 1928. Western Newspaper Union

~
"A beautiful room; it was very hot
outside, even where fountains played
in the garden. The room sOmeway
was indicative of Uncle Horace, rest
full in its quiet dignity.
Alan had been mentioned as one Of |
Uncle HOraces heirs, the property to |
be shared with a certain young woman,
whose mother the elder man had loved |
long ago, and had failed in winning.
Alan had recently met this young
woman and had not been especially |
impressed. Cheerful and pretty, too,
it must be admitted, was Miss Nora
Barry. She was now Uncle HOrace's
guest in the big house to which Alan
had come through all his school vaca-
tions to pass happy days.
Uncle Horace yelled his disappoint-
ment when Alan decided against law,
which was his own profession, but he
could but be gratified in his favOrite's
success in the business he had chosen.
Other young women were present at
| this house party which Uncle Horace
was giving. He liked to entertain in
this great home, too often silent.
Grafton, his uncle's law partner, was
also there, a dependable man among
men, attractive TO women.
PreOccupied, Alan walked the
length Of the living room. Who, he
meditated, might feel entirely sure
of Lois? Today assuring him, her
dark eyes hurt by his dOubting-Of her
loyalty. Tomorrow laughing her mock
cry across the shoulder of GraftOn-or
across some other favored MANS shOul-
der-with whom the will O. the wisp
happened to be walking. Saying to
Alan later:
''Why, my dear don't you know I'm
not to be believe&-wheR 1 can't be-
lieve in myself"
Alan paused before the empty fire.
place where in winter logs gave forth
their warmth. Now tire fireplace was
filled with flowers in tall vases-scar-
let flowers ablaze in limitations of the
fire that warmed. Scarlet trumpets,"
his uncle called them, straight, erect,
glowing. Alan smiled at the fancy
they reminded him of the commanding
beauty of Lois. Her voice came to
him as he sat bowling his head on his
arms crossed on a wide carved table.
Across Alan's troubled senses came
soothing perfume in
some pleasing intangible way of boy
hood days and happy memories. He
lifted his head; on the table before
him in a violet vase was a bouquet Of
heliOtrOpe blOOm-heliotrope that his
mother had loved and worn on the sim
pie muslin dresses, Alan remembered.
The thought of her brought tears to
his eyes. Were there women like her
still in this world? Yes, pretense,
Alan thought bitterly. Was not Lois
and her kind ever pretending?
He could see in memory his young
mothers hands on his fathers head,
soothing, encouraging Adams ftther
had known reverses-struggle. Alans
sweet mother had been the great com
pensatiOn. True, understanding, un-
selfish.
You make me mad" came the
rOllicking sOng-"YOu make me glad
1T ended in a crash of keys and
Lois wild laughter Tears were
creeping Through Alan's fngers-hOV
long one tender memory had-pOwer tC
stir. Some one came into the room
he arose hurrieaiy. The scent OF hell
| OtrOpe increased-the young woman
who entered wore knot Of the flower
| on the breast Of her white frock
/ She smiled up at him, and her voice
| was softly pleasing-"You remembel
| me? am Nora BaWy. Your uncle
asked me to bring tea to hhm here h
has returned from a firing game. VIII
you Join us?" Alan was confusedl,
aware that tears were visible in hi
eyes. Also, he knew that Nora Barry
in kindly sympathy affected net I,
see them. What must she think o
him? Men do not weep over perplex
tiles of business.
Uncle Horace came in smiling hi
| enjoyment. MY two fa ,orite younl
folk" he said, land tempting refresh
ment spread before US What NOR
| may the heart of lonely old man dc
sire?" Later he looked across the tabl
to where Nora Barry sat. my dear,
said Uncle Horace. you grow NOR
like your mother every day"
Alan watched the glow that ovel
spread the girls sweet face; he wa
seeing for the first time that long ag
sweetheart Of his uncle's, whose los
he had ever deplored. "She cared fc
the other man." Uncle HoEace e1
planned with certain proudness, "an
Nora Barry was too true to marry fC
my money"
So, through the years of his disal
pointment Uncle Horace was faithfV
to his ideal. And Nora Barry gre
more and more like that mother, Uncl
Horace declared.
II will play for yOu," Nora offere
Alan went and leaned over the gran