Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1931-02-12
IN THREE PARTS-PART TWO

IN THREE PARTS-PART TWO
ONE solitary globe threw a feeble
illumination down the long gallery
upon walls lined with in%scrutably
watching Brides and patched with
damp that was peeling off the red wall
paper here and there. Through open
doors Sandra caught glimpses of furni-
ture covered in dust sheets and an i'm
mense chandelier tied up in news
papers. Mrs. Bride, shuffiing ahead,
explained:
"A good many of the rooms are
shut up-what's the use Of keeping
'em open when 1 haven't the money
to entertain or pay servants to keep
'em clean? Here you are, my dear
this is the ghosts room, but you're
young and sensible and won't mind
that. Your fire seems to be smoking
it's the down draught. I'll send one
of those girls to see to it. Then when
you're bathed and dressed come along
down to the library and meet Mr.
bless me, what is the mans name?'
Sandra looked up from opening her
dressing case, which the maid had not
attempted to unpack.
rs there some one else staying
here?"
Whats that? Oh, yes, the most
charming mana friend of the North
SAINTS. He was very interested in their
pictures, SO l asked him to stay a night
or two at Bridal and see the Gains
boroughs. They've only got a Joshua
at Northsant, and that's a bad one.
Now, what is his name? I've got his
letter in my bureau"
Sandra laughed at the closing door.
Il don't believe you ever knew it,
you old darling!'
She was aware, satirically, Of her
automatic rallying to the knowledge
of a man in the house, an instructive
reaction which made her choose the
smarter of the two dresses she had
brought down and study her face
searchingly in the speckled mirror. II
it had been dinner with old Margaret
Bride alone she would have worn the
Chinese coated tea gown for warmth.
But dinner with a charming man who
liked Observation-Disclosures Dana
Gibson drawings or movie stars would
have done equally well-and Sandra,
cigaret between lips, dangled Patou's
black velvet on it's hangar from a hook
in the vast walnut press.
She wondered, as she lay soaking in
the ancient and dismally notified bath
tub, how Bridal could ever have i'm
pressed her as a happy house. But
now she CAM to think of it, her clear
est memories were of the gardens and
the park; to a healthy and not par
ticularly sensitive young mind there
could have seemed nothing sad about
a house p%erpetually ringing with old
Nathan's laugh, the barking of count
less dogs, gay comings and goings.
Drying herself on paper thin towels,
Sandra thought gibingly: What a
pathetic, damnable little fool I must
have been in those days! Glen al
ways said that / wouldn't begin to
use my brain until I was thirty"
Glen! She hadn't thought of him
that way-naturally, without a wild
wrench of the heart-for years. She
began to dress hurriedly. London
seemed an eternity away; it was with
a kind of in%credulous amusement that
she pictured the green and silver r
tains, the glass lamps, the stack of
all the right new books in her little
sitting room high above the park. That
fiat, as full Of atmosphere as a shiny
nickel bath tapl Had she really left
it this afternoon? Somehow this room
with it's vast four poster and appalling
wall paper seemed infinitely more real
and significant.
Walking down the long gallery,
watched by somber Bride eyes, Sandra
felt a little like one of Bridalls ghosts.
She could see herself, a slim black
column from breast to feet, gliding
along without a sound over the worn
carpet; skimming into the rushing
darkness of the wind that was making
the old house pitch and toss like a ship
in heavy seas. Should she moan and
wiring her hands? Well, she had de-
sired very often to do both at intervals
of those unhappy fifteen years!
The hall was dark and empty, but
when she opened the double doors OF
the library warmth and light flooded
to meet her. This room had the air
of being lived in. Two red settlers
lay by the fire; there were chintz COW
cred chairs, photographs in heavy sill
yer frames, and a litter of Mrs. Brides
needlework mixed up with the Times
and the Field. The lamps, shaded In
faded crimson silk, cast a pleasant glow
on the gold tooling of the books that
climbed toward the ceiling, and flashed
an answer to some steel embroidery on
old Margaret's dress.
Sandra stood smiling in the doorway
Hal" cried Mrs. Bride. "Sandra, my
dear!"
The mar who had been standing
with his back to the door pivoted round
as though he were a mechanical figure
and her words had been the key to jerk
him into life. Sandra put out her
hands, and caught hold Of the back
of an armchair. Her knees had seemed