The Washington times., 1930-08-23
Cathie Cries Self to Sleep,
Tells Grief to Mother
CHAPTER l0

Catherine Farnsworth lay in
her silver and turquoise bed,
and listened to the Westminster
chimes on the hall clock chime
out every quarter Of an hour.
She had left the door Of her
bedroom ajar. She felt so shut
off, so isolated, in that big room
with the door shut.
There were so many queer
noises in the night. Creaks and
soueaks and-she could have
sworn it-sometimes the faint,
shrill piping Of a flute. High
and far away-a faint, mourn
full singing note wild +.
disturbing ;.
Cathie wasn't superstitious
and she wasn't going to get up
set imagining things. Still, she
liked to leave the door ajar, and
to listen for the faithful, melodi.
ous Ginning of the clock on
nights like this, when she could
not sleep.
Silly to Worry
It was silly to lie awake wor-
rying. Cathie knew that. There
was nothing to worry about. Mr..
Farnsworth would think she was
crazy if he knew why she cried
like big, overgrown baby when
he told her that Gordon Moore
was going to stay with them for
a while. And Moore he'd
laugh. So would anyone else
who knew. She was old enough
to have gotten over that school
girl crush on a man she hardly
knew. Besides, she was married
now. Married to Mr.. Farms
worth, who loved her, and was
good to her. Until death do
us part. That was what she had
promised, and that was the
promise she was going to keep,
no matter what. ).
Besides, nothing was going to
happen. Moore wasn't anything
to her, and she certainly wasn't
anything to him. Miss Darrow
said he was shocked to hear OF
her marriage. =.
Oh, why did she care. After
she was married, and had every
thing in the world to make her
happy! Everything! Everything!
Maid . Mother
Tears soaked the pillow. She
turned it over, and gave herself
up to the luxury of good cry.
She must have dropped 10
sleep toward morning, for she
was sleeping soundly and peace
fully when Marguerite woke her,
bringing her breakfast on the
yellow lacquer tray.
The maids. long slender red
hand shot out. She touched
Cathie's forehead with sensitive
fingers. you've got fever!"
"Have I? It's just that I
didn't sleep very WELL"
Marguerite grunted and pour
ed the coffee into the delicate
flowery cup. "A lot you have
to worry over" she said. almost
insolently, "you with a husband
to take care of you, and every
thing your way" ,....
Cathie sat UP quickly. but be-
fore she could speak the wo-
mans face changed. Her chin
trembled. She said brokenly,
"Oh, don't mind my wicked
tongue. It's thinking over my
troubles all the night long
thinking of my little baby"
"Baby! Why Marguerite. I
didn't"
"No, don't speak Of it, please.
I shouldn't have said it. And
now you'll think less Of me than
ever. Now you'll know that 7"
Calls on Mother
And then at Cathie'S melting
sympathy, she broke off, and
covered her face with her hands.
"There-now you know" she
whispered. land may you never
know what it's like to be alone
in the night with your arms
empty"
Tit died?" Cathie faltered.
But Marguerite was beyond
words. She nodded, and fled
After a while Cathie pushed
the breakfast things away. She
was no longer hungry. To get
away from the silent, lonely
house, and her own unhappy
thoughts she decided to go to
her mothers for lunch, forget
ting to telephone first, as she
knew Mary Paige liked her to
do.
She didn't even call the car,
but started out afoot at first,
then taking street car, then
getting off and walking again.
It was unSeaSonably warm for
November, her black and white
wool street dress seemed heavy
and the silver fox on her Shoul-
ders weighed her down. The
crinkly golden hair was cling
g. ing to her forehead in small,
damp ringletS and her flower
blue eyes were weary when she
came to the familiar high
Shouldered cottage, newly paint
ed buff with green trimmings.
She walked around back, and
into the kitchen, startling her
mother, who was deep in new
recipe for upside-down cake.
She hadn't meant oSay any
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