The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1931-12-09
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CHAPTER ONE


The nurse in the house at the
time, one sturdy Gladys Clapp, was
the only person who felt the least
apprehension as to the tranquil fu-
ture of the FenWicks daughters
Ann, IA years old; Cecily years
old, and baby Mary Frances, l year
old on the third of last February.
Poor old Gladys was merely a
practical nurse-a mysterious trou-
BILE with her left knee had prevented
her from completing her hospital
training-and still was incumbered
with capacity for interest, unpro-
fessional but sympathetic and al
most affectionate, for a few of her
patients.
1t was nuisance, because even
after the double funeral she could
not put the Fenwick family entirely
out of her memory. For several
months she spoke of them, from
time to time, and praised pretty,
trail Mrs. Fenwick.
Said she was just as common as
an old shoe, though she was a pro-
fessor's wife; said she knew beans
when the bag was open; challenged
her listeners to show her another
mother with common sense enough
to send her children away and re-
fuse to kiss them goodby for fear
of contagion, though they bawled
to be kiss d; mentioned nothing
about the morning of that same day
when Mrs. Fenwick had hung her
head and bitten her fist and cried,
right in front of the doctor, and
argued, Il agree with you, DR.. Elm
but I haven't any place to send
the girls. There is no place for
them to CO."
TN the end Gladys herself had
Il taken the three children across
the city from the trim brown
bungalow tightly fenced in its neat
yard near the campus of the small
Oregon college, to the suburb where
the Fenwick manSion--incorrigib
incorrect Victorian Gothic-stood in
its block of unpruned trees and
shrubs and weedy lawn.
The children's grandmother had
thrown the two front doors wide
open as Gladys came, carrying the
baby up the steps, with Ann and
Cecily tagging behind.
welcome" she had called, in her
creamy sweet voice. Welcome,
welcome home, my darlings!" And
in spite of her flesh, and she was
extraordinarily fat, and disregard
ing the fancy, lacy, perfumed, rose
colored silk thing she was wearing,
she had gone right down on her
knees to embrace Ann and Cecily,
and they had to stoop far over ia
her while she cooed and shed tears
into their white necks-tears that
trickled wetly on to their little
stomachS and made them Squirm
unbecomingly.
Gladys stood and shifted the
heavy heliotrope perfume, and held
the baby, and admired the stained
glass squares in the door, until the
baby, one of those stern, big-eyed
babies who never cry, began to
scream with sudden high fury, as
if Gladys had pinched her, or picked
her, or had done some embarrass-
ing thing of that sort.
A mn, whom Gladys said was SO
"a pretty that she fairly took your
breath away, though actually she
was not pretty at all, but purely
and logically beautiful from the
point of brown hair on her wide
forehead to the curve of her perfect
chin, went to the blushing Gladys
and tugged at her arm and said, I'll
take the baby"
Grand-the grandfather, you
know-entered. He had round
white beard, and flowing white hail
and, just now, tears stood in his
kindly blue eyes, and he knew it. II
was he who took the baby, murmur-
ing something that sounded tc
Gladys Scripturally unaccuStomeo
ears like, the yeast of tease"
He was a tall man, and he made
a grand picture standing there With
that blessed baby-Shocked to mo-
mentary silence-in his arms. Re-
luctantly Gladys turned from it tc
close the two front doors, which
had been forgotten, and which were
allowing gusts of the rainy March
wind to sweep into the hall.
She spoke to RoSalie-the grand
mother, you know-who was still
billowing pink silk and lace about
on the floor
Did the valises and things geI
here all right?"
THERE had been nothing anus.
Il ing, in 30 far as Gladys coulC
see, connected with her question
bat Rosalie gurgled some laughter
before she said, They are all un
packed. and the darling, daint,
little things are in place in TIT
three little coy rooms" 9Th,
rooms were enormous; but, sine,
they needed for the time to be small
and coy, in Rosalie's mind the.
were small and cozy9
"Three?" questioned Gladys. "Th
baby isn't going to be put of il
a room by herself, is She?"
Rosalie's manner grew grave ant
charmingly judicial. You thinl
it unw.se?"
Grand answered before Gladly
had a chance to do SO. Give your
self no uneasineSS, my good WON
an-my very good woman, h
added with a fattering smile
Everything shall be arranged 70
the best comfort and good of all.
This shall be done. 1t may no
be done coday. 1t may not be don
tomorrow. But soon, very soon,
shall be accomplished. Convey tina
message, If you will be so kind, al
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