The Waterbury Democrat., 1931-04-04
BEGIN HER ETO-DAY

typist, is miserable and lonely when she finds that ALAN CROS- BY, just returned from a year and half in Paris studying art, no longer cares for her. Crosby is infatuated with MRS LANG- LEY, wealthy divorccc, who con- sidcrs herself patron of art. Gypsy becomes disgusted with her job and when she is criticized for carelessness impulsively resigns.
 She accepts an invitation from her wealthy cousin. ANNE TROW- BRIDGE, to take the place of an- other guest at a formal dinner. The party is bore. She leaves to get her wraps and go home, hears a noise in the next room and opens the door to sec a man climbing in tho window. He is JAMES WAL LACE, guest of the Trowbridges, who has entered by the fire escape to avoid the dinner party guests. Wallace tells Gypsy he has just been tilted by his fiancc. She ad- mits she hGs had the same cxpcri- cnce. To spite the girl he cares for, Wallace asks Gypsy to marry him. She refuses but later nc- ccpts. They arc married next morning.
 NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
 CHAPTER XII
 It was Anne Trowbridge who ex- claimed, Heavens, Jim! Aren't you going to kiss the bride?" Anne had relented in her disapproval suffi- ciently to come with Phil to see the couple married.
 James Wallace bent his heat and dutifully saluted Gypsy check She heard the magistrate saying something in his hoars' voice about wishing them a "lont and happy life" Phil was talking apparently what he said was jok' because the others smiled.
 Gypsy looked about her ant the others seemed figures in g dream. This could not be really she, Gypsy McBridge. beside the tall young man with blue eyes who was holding her arm. An other moment and she would wake and know she had imagined the whole thing. On the second finger of Gypsy's left hand gleamed a circlet of diamonds They were very bright. They caught fire from the sunlight and shot it back in dazzling radiance. The diamonds were real. She had not imagined them. Then she knew she had not imagined any of it. It was all true, James Wall lace was her husband.
 There was no time for a we'd ding breakfast. Wallace was anx- ious to make the II o'clock train He had the tickets in his pocket. They went out os the building to where Trowbridge's car was wait ing.
 Phil glanced at his watch. "Plenty of time," he assured them. "We'li make it and have IS minutes to spare.'
 The car was a sleek dark blue coupe. Gypsy and Anne climbed inside. Wallace was muttering about "confounded traffic" as he followed them. He had experi- enced one unfortunate tie-up ir New York streets and never for gotten it.
 "Darling. you're looking pale.' Anne said to Gypsy as they
 Gypsy smiled. She did look liTeu' III diI iiSH.. oho oau After I got home last night this morning."
 "Never mind." Anne treasured her. "Brides are supposed to be pale anyhow. remember at my wedding"
 She chatted on but Gypsy was not listening. Whenever she heard that word ''bride" she wanted to turn and look for another person. It seemed impossible that she was the one re- ferred to.
 Young Mrs Trowbridge had done her best to give the nasty marriage conventional touches. She had seen to it that there were flowers for Gypsy-bought by Wallace at a cor ner florists shop just before the ceremony. There was a cluster oi gardenias pinned to the lapel o1 Gypsy's suit coat. White flowers sweet and fragrant for a bride.
 In one old and bulky suit case slowed away in the rear of the cal were all of Gypsy's belongings. The suit case was not crowded. Half a dozen dresses comprised the glrts wardrobe. The other things had been so worn she was ashamed to pack them. The old tweed coat, an in suit to any trouseau, she had giver to Mrs O'Hare ro be handed dowr to her niece. Besides the dresses the suit case contained the few things Gypsy had saved when she disposed of the household posses. sions after her fathers death. clock that had belonged to hei mother. A small. old-fashionet album bound in yellow plush. con. taining pictures of her grandparents Her fathers copies of David Cop perfeld" and "Tristram Shandy.' Packing these things had seemed Ia sacred rite.
 Anne's voice broke in or Gypsy's reverie: 'I'm so glad tho sun is shining" she said. 'It's q good omen. you know - means good luck"
 "I'm glad too" Gypsy agreed.
 She wasn't thinking about pro pitious omens She was thinking that the last spring suit whicf was her bridal costume would look much more appropriate st