The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1926-10-23
Saint and Simmer
By ANNE AUSTIN

than any person had ever done, be.
cause she treated him as If he were
an equal.
II certainly trust you will use your
! influence with your husband to bring
about a more graceful acceptance on
/ his part Of a situation which, I am
convinced, will mean happiness TO all
concerned" Mr.. C1uny's legs could
almost caper. but his voice was still
the voice of a pompous, legal-minded
old man.
oh, >Muggy'll bring him around.
Don't>worry," Cherry laughed light
~. as she chung to his arm, dancing
on the tips of her Silver slippers.
Faith, darling. bring me my white
flannel coat. won't you? And that
hand-painted white silk scarf?" AS
II she had a dozen silk scarfsi
When Faith. hardly able to keep
back the tears had watched the
tiny, lovely little figure and the tall,
ff-Jointed old man walk arm in
arm to the limousine and enter, as
sisted by a uniformed chauffeur, she
turned back into the living room 10
help Mrs. Lane in her slow, painful
journey to her bedroom.
We'll. what do you think?" Mrs.
Lane quavered, the polite, simpering
smile wiped from her heavy cheeks
and lips. her gray eyes filed with
tears.
Il think it's crimer' Faith cried
passionately. TITS breaking my
hearth Don't let her do It, mother.
Please! Think what It will mean to
Cherry-yoked with that waxen-
faced stiff-kneed old man, who SIM
ply wants to drink new life at the
fountain Of youth. She's so young,
mother. You said so yourself-just
a baby! Not quite nineteen"
Il don't want her to marryNa poor
man." Mrs. Lane sighed heavily.
you don't know what I've been
through, Faith. married to a failure
like your pa. I'd rather see my
daughters in their graves than to
see them go through what I've suf-
fered. 1t won't be for long-he can't
live many more years.. Oh, I don't
know what I'm saying. He's a nice.
friendly. polite man-did you ever
see such manners?-and he's rich.
Faith. She'll have everything in the
world she wants. But Mrs. Lane
lifted the end of her lace fchu to
wipe away the fast falling tears.
Except thrills. Faith was frank
ly crying. too. ,"And you know,
mother Cherry lives on thrills. Even
if he lives only five or<six years, as
he certainly has every chance of
doing-maybe twenty!-heu have
furnished her youth, made her cyni.
cal and hypocritical and maybe un.
faithful"
+ 'Faith!Do you reallze what you're
saying?" her mother demanded stern.
ly. "Oh. my heart! That awful
pain" she groaned, laying a puffed
hand on her vast bosom, her face
contorted with agony.
Poor mothert lean on me. Wen
soon be there. Just a few more
steps, dear. Shall 1 call dad?"
NO" Mrs. Lane gasped, letting
her great weight bear down upon
HFaith's supporting arms. "Oh.
there's the doorbell!'
But Mr.. Lane had heard 1t, too.
and came from the kitchen, where
he h2d retired toNread his paper or
to think heaven knows-what terrible
thoughts of his daughters folly.
"Bob's here, Mother" she told
the sick woman in tender, sooth-
ing voice. He wants to see me.
I'll send Dad in to sit with you until
you feel sleepy. But you mustn't
scold him about tonight or talk
about it. 1t will just upset you,
make your heart misbehave< Good,