The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1930-06-12

But with Cynthia Brown there
were none of these things to boil
ster her in her desperate position
For with sudden clarity it had
come to her that her position might
be extremely desperate.
For no particular reason that in
the moment she could see, the noises
of the wedding guests made her
realize, as she had not done before,
the enormity of the thing she had
set out to do. Not it's enormity as
regarded Eleanor or Dean Carey,
but as regarded herself.
She was alone in the world. From
a little Ohio town, where the local
newspaper had made much of her
singing in the choir, she had, upon
graduation from high school, come
to New York.
Her parents, solid, respectable
people, had left her a few thou
sand dollars. The life Of a small
town had no attraction for a girl
who felt that she had career
ahead of her. And the death of her
parents. cut the only bond that
bound her to Ohio.
The sage village banker had adj
vised her against drawing her little
capital, but the principal was so
small that the income would not do
for her the things she wanted.
For her ambitions had been cir
cunascribed only by the limits of
her imagination; study in Italy, a
debut at the Metropolitan, career
that would astound the world. And
why not? Hadn't the daughter of
a professional ball player achieved
international renown? Hadn't, more
recently, a girl from Kansas con-
quered New York by the glory, of
her voice?
60 the capital had been spent
~ squandered. the village banker
would have said, for the dreams
never came to reality. A mediocre
singing voice, sweet and appealing,
but of no great power or range, was
the net result of the expenditure
of three years Of study and travel
and of the few thousands which
constituted her bulwark against
want.
Not the kind to weep over split
milk, Cynthia had turned her am
billions from a Greer to a job. And
so she had landed in Zogbaum's
chorus and had achieved this not
through her voice, but through her
beauty Of face and figure and a
quick ability to master intricate
dance steps.
AS she heSitated on the stairs the
high spots of her life seemed to pass
in review before her. What would
happen to a girl from the coun-
try if she were discovered in this
representation?
Would an indignant bridegroom,
an angry father and some hundreds
of outraged wedding guests use vio-
lence toward her? Would the police
be summoned, and would she be
locked up in a cell? And would her
name and shame be blazoned to all
the world?
But, now that she was consider
ing herself and not Eleanor, her
mind was clean. Consideration of
herself was all that was needed to
bring into play a mind naturally
keen and resourceful.
She dismissed almost the idea Of
turning back at this last possible
minute. The wedding guests. Flea
nor's father and Eleanor's husband
were not people to be feared; they
were to be outwitted for an hour
or sol
Surely girl who had dreamed of
being not merely great singer, but
also a great actress, could succeed
in this adventure. At any rate. if
failure overlook her, she could not
let it be because fear made her lag
gard.
Her knees lost their weakness as
she reached the second landing.
Once again she turned to the left
and faced a door. Although Eleanor,
in her haste, had not told her so,
she assumed that this was not the
usual entrance to Eleanor's apart
ment, but was probably the door
which the maid used when break
fast was brought to her mistress.
The stairs which she had assembled
were undoubtedly servants stairs.
But speculation was valueless now.
She stepped across the hall and
tried the door. 1t was locked. She
knocked upon it.
Mary" she called.
From somewhere beyond the door
she heard a gasp that might have
been of fear or of relief, and then
there were the sounds of quick foot
steps. The door was thrown open.
and she Nras facing the first test
Of her imnerSonation.