The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1927-11-02

Feeling a little shocked and dis
gusted, Diana turned and -.
The days after the dance passed
rapidly. They were full of whole
some, pleasant fun with Arthur.
Long rides, swimming at the Coun-
try Club, golf. His attitude did
not vary. He was ever the inter-
ested, charming companion, with
no hint of sentiment. Until the
night before he was to return to San
Francisco, when Elizabeth Farwell,
coming downstairs for a drink, ran
squarely into her daughter, bright
head buried on Arthur's shoulder,
one slender arm about his neck. .
CHAPTER vi
ri LAMA" gasped Elizabeth. She
lID stretched a trembling hand to
the dining room switch, re-
vealing the tender scene with brutal
clarity. Diana, what does this
mean?"
Only Diana realized the Signifl-
canoe of her mothers question. Her
arm dropped from Arthur's neck.
He was paralyzed with embarrass-
ment, saying simply: Il love
Diana, Mrs. Farwell. She has just
promised to marry me-"
Tears filled Elizabeth's round
eyes, splitting out in rivulets over
her plump checks.
1T realize that she is awfully
young" Arthur continued, anxious
ly. Perhaps you feel that should
have waited or that I am too old
for her."
81 should never give my consent"
Elizabeth answered, "if you were
younger or less able to take
care of her. And I most emphat-
ically do not approve of long en-
gagements"
1t seemed to Diana that a flash
of understanding passed between
the two, this man who had asked
her to be his wife and the mother
who felt safety for her daughter
lay in an early marriage. For one
dreadful instant she felt that they
were conniving to keep her inno-
cence to themselves. Shame forced
the thought from her mind. 1t
seemed disloyal to Arthur, who had
proved that he did not love her
only that way" 1t was because
their relationship was so plainly
spiritual that she had consented
to marry him.
"Daughter!" Elizabeth cried. "It
will be hard for me to give you up,
but I think you have chosen a good
man."
Afterwards, lying awake in her
cool bed, Diana rehearsed the
events leading up to Arthur's pro-
posal. They had gone to a
movie" then for a ride in her
mothers car. She was driving and
as they sped past silent fields and
scattered, lamp-lighted houses her
mind was with Louis and the rides
they had taken togther. Arthur
had spoken only after prolonged
silence.
will you miss me when I have
gone back to San Francisco?"
IT certainly will" she had replied,
sincerely. st envy you going hack
to the lights and excitement again."
do you mean that, Diana? Would
you like to go, too?"
would ~"
IT wonder" he continued, "if it's
only because of the lights and the
excitement"
Silence, but Diana's hands were
trembling on the wheel.
"Is it, dear? Or is it a little on
account of me?"
IT like you," she faltered.
Let's have no hedging about 1t.
I love you, Diana. Is 1t taking ad-
vantage of your youth to want you
for my wife?"
II don't see why" she answered,
breathlessly.
Because you are so very young
so beautifully inexperienced. I
wonder if when you are older you
might regret it."
Diana did not answer. An Ella
ton she could not explain had
swept over her with the compre-
hension of the fact that Arthur
Vane was actually proposing.
IT don't know" she said, after
moment, what mother would
think"
To Arthur it seemed natural
remark for her to make. Sweetly
dutiful AS a matter of fact it was
the first time in his life he had ever
asked a girl to marry him. He had
no conception Of the way one ordi-
narily performs under such circum-
stances. Certainly, reflected Diana,
it had been a sensible wooing. They
had driven home, put the car in the
garage, and entered the house
through the kitchen. Half way
across the dining room, he had taken
her in his arms. Not wildly, as on
the first occasion, but very tenderly.
DIANA" he whispered IT do love
YOU"
Of its own accord one of her arms
stole shyly about his neck.
At this moment Elizabeth had
blundered upon them. Her cheer
full acceptance of the engagement,
and her agreement to an early mar
rage hurt Diana, who had expected
more reluctance. She did not realize
that her mothers joy was relief from
her heavy responsibility. AS if now,
at least, Elizabeth might rock her
life away in peace.
Neither could Diana have under
stood the agony Elizabeth still suf-
fered over that other daughter,
whose life had been so tragically
bungled, nor her foreboding sense
of desolation; her premoniton of
what life would mean alone in the
empty house. These things
were a closed book to the girl. So
remote are we all from the real
ay,ootiopc IF thocn urh0 love 1Ict