The Waterbury Democrat., 1932-02-23
BEGIN HERE TODAY

n ANN and CECII.Y FENwICIx
have for years supported them
MARY-FRANCEs, and their
grandparents, known as "IfosaIic"
and "Grnnd". Because OF this H.
nancial responsibility, Ann, who IL
-, fs unable TO marry PHIL &c
ROYD, 90 whom she has been en-
gagcd for eight years. Cccily, ~,
loves BARRY McKEEr,, but when
he proposes she refuses 20 name
their wedding date for the same
reason.
Frances, is, and still in
school, believes herself In love with
EARL DIE ARMOUNT, vaudeville
actor whom she has met without
tho knowledge Of her sisters. He
urges her 70 leave home and be-
como his stage partner.
Ann and Phil quarrel when she
hears LEFTY KING, who works I'm
Phifs office building, address him
with endcarments. Ann tries 10
forget Phil by going abou with
KENNETH SMITH, rich and at.
tentive, but when Smith asks her
to marry him she refuses.
Mary-Franccs agrees to go away
with Dc Arm0unt. They set out
In his car. The same day Cccily
guArrcls with her grandfather.
She comes home with news that
she and Barry arc to DO married
that evening. Ann discovers
Mary-Erances In missing, learns
she has eIoped with dc Amount.
Immediately u search IN begun.
Phil Ecroyd comes to help. Ann
Ii nearly frantic until Mary-Fran-
ccs returns home, explaining she
became hungry and ed Armount
refused 70 buy her meal.
Phil begs Ann to renew their
engagement but she refuses.
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
CHAPTER xLvII
After the parlor door had slid
back. Cecily had clicked the lights
on. ana all the fat little cherubs
on the ceiling, twining blue ribbons
and red roses about through soap
sudsey clouds, smlrked; and Bar
ry lOoeed the dark, duty folds of
curtain, and they fell again into
straight lines behind CeciIy and
him.
WELL" she said, "last act. Cur
tain drops. Here we are taking
our call - but there isn't any APP
plause."
Don't make fun, Cecily, please
I'm not making fun"
II know"
Barry you do understand?
Leaving Ann was impossible
enough before--especially after this
with Mary-Frances. But now that
Phil has come back--I can't do II.
They have waited eight years. She
was 40 good to-day. SO happy and
unselfish. IL Ann could manage
without me and allow me TO marry,
then ] must manage without her.
1t isn't self-sa crifioe. 1t ts simply
being decent. You understand?"
Il am afraid ] have to-
But, perhaps" Barry said. after
several silent minutes, 1--WE are
making tragedy where there isn't
any---or out Of comedy. After all,
simply because things have gone |
wrong this once Is no reason for
this finaiity - this despair. | think
II ID merely the let-down for us
aftor our fright about Mary-Fran-
ces."
Perhaps"
DarlinB-Iet's be sensible. We're
just tho same persons that we were
this afternoon, up In the hills. We
love the same way. We aren't quit
ter0--Just because our plans didn't
work out this one evening. Are
weT
mo"
''What Ii 1t, dear? We've been
frightened --- horribly. Well, that's
over with. Just now we are both
sort of unnamed with disappoint-
mcnt. But that will pass, too; and
be over with"
No"
"surely 1t will And then we can
begin making other plans"
mo"
"Darling--you're getting into
habit. Cant you say. Yes once or
twice for a changa?"
Eyes. We could begin to plan
and to walt. We could. But you
haven't lived here and watched
Ann and Phil as | have for years.
! wouldn't do that to you, Barry.
And l wouldn't allow you to do 1t
to me. And there IL your writing.
/ remember what you said about
that to-day-how tho uncertainty
Perhaps was trying to bluff
you, sweet"
mo. you weren't"
MOL wasn't. But If we were
engaged. needn't be uncertain.
Let's put romancing aside and be