The producers news. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1918-1937, 1926-04-30

liz 41S4AS JOu WC1S uldIIASQ Oel-i
lie, you said to me that you would
never be unfaithful to Curtiss, even
in your thoughts, and as you stood
there, a little bride, it reminded me
of what your mother had said to me,
twenty years before that, on her we'd
ding night" Then for a short time
he wandered in MemOry's lane. "WeU
start from that point" he finally
said, regaining his usual pOise and
forcing himself to speak, as much as
was possible, in an impersOnal voice.
after we were married we moved
to North Carolina, and took up our
lives in one of those picturesque
small towns that are typical of the
traditions of the Old South. The
streets were broad avenues arched
with trees, the houses were large,
most of them ancestral estates, which
sat steadily back from the road and
reared large and stalwart families
year after year. Well" he cOntin-
ued, "the first part of our married
life was simply ideal. Things went
well-even for several years after
you were born-and then, more and
more, began to leave your mother
alone. / was beginning to get rich,
and, like many men, l unfortunately
allowed my business to absorb my
entire time. Night after night l
would return to the Bank until it be-
came impossible for me to spend an
evening at home. l was money-mad.
l wanted to be, first, the richest man
in town and then the most prosper
Gus man in the state and then, that
accomplished, l had visions of be-
coming a financial power in the
South. There was always a will-o'-
the-wisp, higher and higher, that led
me on" He paused as if he were
uncertain of how to express his
crowding thoughts.
yes, Father, please go on"
Your mother was beautiful and
had a magnetic charm. In her youth,
like you, she had been a belle. SMALL
town conventionality of that age pro-
hibited her from taking part in any
social life, alone, and that l should
have expected her to be satisfied with
my utter neglect seems unreasonable
to me now, but then, my thoughts
were concentrated on riches and pow
err"
Don't stop, Father, go on" I urg-
ed when once again he paused.
"Well, it isn't a new story, Sal
lie, but | want to tell you ALL / shall
be brief. Our house sat back from
the road. 1t was an old Southern
mansion and the front verandah was
your mothers favorite resort. In the
evening, after she had tucked you in
to bed, she would sit there for hours
at time. The moon made fairy pat
terms as it dropped its white light
through sweet-fiowering vines. A
lilac bush grew near the door-in
fact there were two, one on each side
OF the entrance, ] believe, and the
fragrance of their blossoms perfumed
the soft Southern night. I can see
her now sitting there and begging
me not to leave her so utterly alone.
| would smile at her ''whims" as 7
called these occasions when she IN
burdened her heart and so night af-
ter night the Office continued to claim
my attention and time.
There was one other house in the
same square with ours. It belonged
to Edmund White. A charming. low
able fellow, who had the respect and
admiration of the entire town. He
was often a guest in our home. Many
times when I left for the Office he
would remain and talk with my wife
Then there came a time when he ceas.
ed to come to US at all. I can look
back and see it now. While sittine