The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1926-05-18
"SANDY''. IA: IA: !:

much of hut" she thought breez.
lily, "for the blue blooded McNeils!"
It was an old. rambling two story
house. sadly in need Of paint. It
might have been mansion yester-
day. The doors and windows ratified
discordantly today.
But there were Spanish chests,
saddles set with silver and rich old
brocades that had been in the fam.
lily since the Mission days. The Nc.
Neils were proud Of these treasures
that harked back to- the time when
the great-grandfather, Angus Me-
Neil. married a Spanish girl and
came into possession of q kings do
main. They had none of this wealth
now-nothing but the land the house
occupied.
Sandy got safely up the old stairs.
A light streamed from her room.
"rn for it," she thought excitedly.
Sandy's mother sat on the bed.
She was sweet faced woman grow
ing little plump-continua mas
saying the suggestion Of an un-
welcome double chin.
Mrs. Mcneil dearly loved her
youngest daughter. She had no mean
motives in urging Sandy to accept
that pleasant Mr.. Murillo." She
really believed that wealth insured
happiness. Sandy's beauty would
have worthy setting-shc would be
saved the ache of incessant depriva-
ton. Nothing wears down Joy more
quickly. Isabel Mcneil knew it we'll.
She rejoiced that Sandy would es-
cape. It didn't occur to the mother
that an empty heart might prove
graver tragedy than an empty purse.
Not that she was cold woman
but she belonged TO a generation
that taught its girls to look on the
"joys of the flesh" as sinful. In her
girlhoOd one didn't anticipate &c.
stasy in marriage. A bride nobly
"surrende red"---the sacrifice being
justified only because of the chill
drcn.
II Sandy's mother had ever known
rapture, she had long since for
gotten about it. Her married life
was settled into a routine-a thing
of commonplace. placid habit like
the morning and evening kiss Of her
husband. So she was little i'm.
patient with all this fussing about
love. She wasn't the one to under
stand the visionings Of girl just
nineteen.
She now looked at Sandy with
grieved. hurt silence that Sandy pre-
tended not to see.
snake yourself to home---lsabel.'
she said airily.
Mrs. Mcneil closed her eyes Sc
verely. "Your sister, Madeline, saw
you. She saw you walking in the
hills with Timmy!"
"Oh. that's all right with me--let
the girl see the beauties Of life!'..
"I'm not fooling, Sandy. This is
no way for you to act. Now that
you're engaged we must expect dig
nifty from you. You're no longer
child. What do you suppose Mr..
Murillo or his sister would think IL
THEY saw you?"
"Ill tell you, mother. I'm not just
sure that I'M going to marry Ben.
Tn a htt1e at sea on the PROPOSE
ton. On the level, Isabella, just
what is the inside dope on marriage9
What do you know about it,"
Mrs. Mcneil gaspcd. II shouldn't
think you'd make fun of your
mother. Sandy"
mot making fun. ole dear. I'm
seeking information. Before you
were married. did you love my father
30 much that you almost tainted
when he looked in your eyes OF
touched your hand?"
I'm my day girls didn't have such
thoughts
I'm not asking about thoughts
I've plenty of them. I'm asking
about the feelings. You can't kid
me here--anatomy hasn't changed
any in the last thirty years."
Mrs. Mcneil took refuge in that
old defense: "How can you be so
irreverent? Such things are too
sacred to talk about"
"Oh, save your bushes, Isabella!
| see you don't know darn bit
more about it than l do. That's all
thirty years OF marriage did for
you!"
People thought Sandy sophisti.
Gated. She had even been called
"hard boiled" Her mother was
afraid Of her. cher;shing . secret
dread that Sandy might 90 'too
far" Sandy was continually shock.
ing them with her brazen audacities.
But for all her daring spontaneity.
her large chatter, she was extreme.
" young in her thoughts. J. young
and unawakened. Her knowledge
was of the tongue: not Of the mind
or heart. She had . great, deal of
information scattered loosely in her
brain. 1t hadn't been absorbed and
made part of her consciousness
through experience. She wasn't
half as dangerous as her family
judged her.
One evening after her unsuccess-
full argument with her mother she
passed the living room door. She
heard her uncle Bob Mcneil speak
angrily: "A marriage that viii
make her life meaningless!" He
walked over to the mantel, knocked
his pipe against the hearth. "What
rotten sport you are, Angus. to
deliberately shut your ,own child
out from the love of life. 1t amounts
to death for girl like Sandy"
A suave ,grunt. Ssndy's father
fiddled with his watchfob, his eyes
twinkling. women don't look at
it that way. They die Of heart
failure or pneumonia or dropsy. I'VE
vet to know Of woman who died
of marriage"
Sandy's ears tingled. She was
conscious Of . choking heat in her
throat. She loved Bob McNeil-a
dashing fellow, not yet thirty.
What did he mean by that phrase.
Shutting her out from the joys
Of life p
She stopped to unwind the fringe
where it had caught on her shoe
buckle. She unknotted it in q tense
slowness, Whispering in a flush:
what am in for anyway! won.
dar ,s,1aaf I'm da;sn.-