Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-07-03
INSTALLMENT XIV.

INSTALLMENT XIV.
TINE days grew shorter; 1t was
dark now when Gail came home
from the library at S o'clock.
i AS she sat cuddling the baby
she could see the oak branches
tossing in the dusk Of the yard and
the leaves scurrying down.
At this hour she would often fall to
dreaming. It was an hour in which
to remember Edith, talking eagerly of
poetry, of drama, Of Utopias and phi
lanthropy; an hour that brought back
Ariel, spoiled. petulant, beautiful. al
ways to be excused and adored by her
sisters.
Above all, in the Winter twilights
with the soft lump of babyhood that
was another Gail Lawrence in her
arms, Gail dreamed of Dick and Of
the brief moment Of romance that had
somehow seemed to give her her true
values in life. She had been playing.
playing idly and superf1cially, with Van
the full realization Of what her heart
needed, what her heart could give, just
a moment too late.
sober quiet Dick. He had never seen
Gail; she had never tried to help him
find her. But she knew in her heart
that she could have given him a thou
sand times what Ariel could give.
Ariel must be changed, indeed, If she
had become helpful, tender mate for
a struggling lawyer. Ariels ideal was
not one of homemaking, Of quiet and
domesticity beside a fire. Hollywood
supposing them still to be In that
reighborhood - would only inf1ame
Ariel with O desire for luxury, fame,
money.
But then they might long ago have
left Southern California. 1t was almost
three years now since that memorable
Christmas day before Ariels eighteenth
birthday when she and Dick had run
away from them all. Gail had had two
communications from her SINCE the
first was the scrubbed note she had
EFT in her deserted bed room; the sec
ond had come a few months after
Edith's death and had been postmarked
Phoenix, Ariz.
Gail, dear, am so horribly sorry
about darling EIDE. but. Gail, she was
happy" the tear-stained, unpunctuated
note had read. she was too good for
this world and only would have had
trouble and disappointment. 1 am well
and so Is Dick, and We are coming
home soon to tell you all the news, so
no more now except that I adore you"
It had been signed simply Ariel"
and had borne neither date nor ad-
dress.
One day she had driven Phil's car,
full of small boys, out to the Stanilaus
ranch. 1t was prosperous now and the
Lawrences' money troubles, preposter-
Gus and unexpected as the situation
seemed, were over. Phil was doing we'll,
Gail had had raise, the oil station
paid its 500 a month faithfully and
that money Phil handed over, untouch
ed, to her sister.
The remains of the once magnificent
Lawrence estate were divided now; the
old house was Phil's, the corner had
been surveyed and measured and given
to Gail, the Stanislaus property was
wholly for Sam and Ariel. Rent went
into the bank in Ariel's maiden name
Sam paid his board to Lily.
Gail looked at the old ranch visit
fully. She had dreamed once a brief
dream of coming there with Dick, of
being mistress of these acres of orchard
and pasture and wheat fields. They
could have been happy there. They
would have had children. driven into
town in a mud-spattered old car,
stopped for mail, for feed, for needles
and eggbeaters. and ink. Dick would
have had cases in the big court house
In the shady square and Gail would
have gone into the library to ask the
girl at the desk for the new novels.
And on Sundays they would have
telephoned Phil and Lily to ask what
the chances were of picnic up at the
old dam.
Il might have had a boy and a girl
by this time. But certainly I
wouldn't have had time for any writing.
There's that to think about!
Dick. I'd give up the chance Of writ
ing another Iliad to have had you love
me. to have been Mrs. Dick Stebbins
There never would be any one else.
Other men had wanted her, some of
them fine men, men who could have
given her at least the position Dicks
wife would have had. But Gail was
barely conscious of their existence. She
was only vaguely regretful when she
had to hurt or disappoint them.
Her own attitude troubled her, for,
Ike all normal girls, she dreamed visit
fully OF marriage, Of her own home. her
own ties. Bob Porter, who worked with
Phil in the iron works; Joe Clemence,
one Of Clippersvilles rising dentists;
OuAiB LIZ AOdIIlS, WlQOWeQ Dana
Sewell from the Murchison Mills; all
these were merely empty names when
they were presented to her. No, it Just
did not seem to mean anything, marry
Ing any one else than Dick: and until
1t did, Gail would not consider it.
But sometimes she did consider the
strangeness of the situation should Dick
and Ariel come back to Clippersville.
Ihey would never know that this
was shrined deep in
Calls heart. They need never know.
But 1t would be hard, it would be
hard to see him. to have him kiss her
IN fraternal fashion, to hear Ariel COM
planning Of his treatment of his new
clothes.
Once after Edith,s death Gail had
written a simple, friendly letter to
Dicks mother, trusting the post ONCE
to forward it to her in Oregon. where
she lived now with widowed daughter.
Did Mrs. StebbinS know lust where
Dick was now, Gail had asked. She.
Gail, had book that he had wanted
and so on-and SO on.
Mrs. Stebbins had answered that
Dick was just about the worst letter.
writer that ever was; he had been in
Los Angeles for a while and after that
up at Las Vegas, and last she heard he
was in Phoenix for three weeks, but he
was coming home, according to what
ne wrote, and just as soon as he did
HpAn A~AA