The Washington times., 1932-11-29
Chapter Thirty.three.

van fA1Stylc 4OOhCO dI 4AAS
watch.
do you mind getting on
now?" ..,
where are you staying?"
"At the Lamberts.' I'm only
over here for a short time, on
business, really"
But you haven't any!" OBJ
jected Joyce, setting the car in
motion.
mot exactly. Lately though,
I've been restless doing so little,
have amused myself financing
small schemes, here and there.
Came over, in fact, to set a
young Englishman up for him.
self. Your father knew his
mother. She was Sally Morgan,
we were all in school together"
whats his name?"
Basil StaineS. He's a
younger son. Since the. war
the Staines family has been up
against it, in that quiet Eng
lish way. PaSil is twenty-five
now, Julien year older. There's
q younger sister. The financial
affairs of the family are not
very flourishing at present.
Basil is just down from Oxford,
and we decided he might make
q go of it over here"
"Staines-I remember the
name. Yvonne Harkness knew
them. The mother is American,
didn't you say?"
Eyes. She's not changed
much form the girl we knew;
we adored her at school, we
do still"
81 don't like young men," said
Joyce irrelevantly.
Van Alstyne laughed.
Thanks. Basil isn't young,
exactly, if that's what, you
mean. It's a very sophisticated
generation, this postwar one.
His father, by the way, was all
through the mess-in the thick
of it. And badly cut up. He's
rather an invalid now, always
will be-"
AT Four Corners.
Presently they were at Four
Corners. Joyce stopped the
car, Van Alstyne got out and
the airedale jumped over the
door, a tawny flash, and ran,
barking, down the road.
Van Alstyne stood still, his
hand on the door.
Then I won't see you
again?" Joyce asked.
Child, what gloomy forebod-
ings. I'm in excellent health.
I, shall be at the Plaza for a
matter of six weeks or more.
! leave for town tomorrow. Will
you telephone me at the hotel?
I'd like to see you, we could
lunch or tea or something.
Don't think me an idiot if I
say that I cannot call at your
home. Now, will you telephone
me?
She promised, and then drove
home thoughtfully. Should she
say that she had seen him? But
how ridiculous. Why shouldn't
she say so? Oh, how ridiculous
people were!
An underlined instinct, protec-
tive in its essence, led Joyce
to mention her meeting with
Van Alstyne to her mother at
a time when they we're alone
for a moment before dinner.
She said, very casually, Il saw
Uncle Fred on the road today,
up by Sunrise Hill. He was
walking and I had stopped the
car"
Elizabeth looked up from her
magazine, mildly puzzled. She
repeated "Uncle Fred?" on an
interrogative note, mentally sur
veying a long list of quasi
uncleS, cousins, distant relatives.
She did not think of Van AL
styne. It. was like meeting a
familiar friend in a strange
country when you have been
thinking of him as safely at
home-you cannot recognize
him Immediately. You stop, look,
stammer. while you adjust your
self. Can it? Is it? Why,
it's you.
Flush Of Color
''Van Alstyne, Uncle Fred Van
Alstyne," explained Joyce pa
tiently.
Elizabeth had never been
able to control her changing
color. It was one of her
charms. The bright flush rose
now, flooding her small face to
the roots of her hair. She said,
"oh -" in a tiny, stifled
voice.
Joyce turned her eyes away.
AS once before, years earlier,
she felt as if she had witnessed
an unveiling and it embarrassed
her. The realization that
ones parents are capable of
and vulnerable to emotions
which have their roots in real
-