New Britain herald., 1929-08-23
All Seems Peaceful and Calm as the
 Grahams Start Their Life Afresh

IfandIfS SldFl lntlE hiiesh
 There is no calm so perfect in its etillness as that which follows storm, no peace so satisfying as that which comes after ones soul has been racked With pain.
 These are the truths, hoary with age, that l, Madge Graham, am real izing today. l am coming them over and over as a child does catechism while I tremulously con template a renaissance of the marl- tai happiness which l had feared was lost to me forever.
 I find it difficult to comprehend this unexpected joy which has come to me after long months of estrange- ment. Unfolding swiftly before me is a comedy panorama of fierce and ger-almost hatred-against my hus- band for his terrible doubt of me just before Grace Draper's suicide. of the calmness, amounting 10 in- difference toward Dicky into which my numbed emotions settled after that racking agony, and of my slow but sure awakening to the fact that my affection for my husband is neither ashes nor embers, but steady flame.
 But 1 am not listening 10 the voice Of experience just now, and l am drawing a heavy curtain over my panorama of memory pictures. All that l wish to remember is the rough tenderness of Dicky's voice when after an episode fraught with physical danger to both of us. he somewhat incoherently muttercd both apology and assurance of his love for me, and stammered:
 Don't you think we could, your could-?"
 My answer was a prompt affirma- tive, and it's aftermath a bringing back of such happiness to me as 1 had deemed impossible of return. It is Q happiness which has not been marred by jealousy, by d quarrel, or even by minor disagreement in the weeks which have passed since that day, and l find myself wondering curiously when the first break in my peace will come, and what will be the occasion for it.
 Briyton and Owen Still Worry Us
 There are six of us here at the hotel for the winter. Dicky and I and Mary Harrison, my husbands s rarely lovely young niece, are in our apartment, and in the suite next to us, so near that it is almost like sharing q single home. are domi- oiled out best friends, Harry and Lillian Underwood, and Noel Ncrit- zen, the young son of Philip Nerit- zen, most famous theatrical producer in the country and, incidentally, my employer.
 Marion Morton, Iillian's Winsome young daughter, is still at the Whit Eey school in New Jersey to which with many misetvines because of her roommate, Carolyn Brixton. Not that either of cur disapproVes of the 1ovable little hoyden who is stil! Marion's ''roomle." She has as warm a place in our hearts as has her brother. Donald. Yale freshman, and Marion's devoted admirer, and her mother, beautiful stately Helena Brixton who in the days of their youth was LillIan's nearest friend. But both Lillian and l distrust Sam uel BriXton, Helenas husband and the children's stcpfather, though they beai bis name, as much as we fear his half-brother, Charles Owen. because of former unpleasant almost sinister happenings connected with them. However, they are so far away from us and from Marion in their western home, that Iillian's misgivinss concerning them are not as lively as they would be were either man living close to us.
 It has been as peaceful for Lillian this stretch of late autumn and early winter, as it has been for me. Happy and contented in her reunion with the husband so long estranged from her, she has been especially blissful in the knowledge that her idolized daughter no longer harbors the loathing and angry jealousy of her stepfather which once was Marion's. The young girl has not the romantic affection for Harry Underwood which she cherished for her Uncle Robert" Sayarin, the famous artist whom she used to beg her mother 10 marry, but I can see that her liking for her big jolly step