Evening star., 1933-09-10

4 u
l j ing 16 engagements, because Margot
- Anderson. his youngest daughter was
coming home.
Beatrice had never seen Margot Anderson.
The latter had been in the West for almost a
ear and Beatrice had been in the employ of
he steel magnate for less than six months But
ohm Andersons daughter became startingy
live in the conversations of Mrs. Daugherty,
he houSekeeper.
From the day she was born she was IN
lass by herself" said Mrs Daugherty FIRMLY
She was altogether different from other
oabies"
different? In what way?" demanded Beat
Zee slightly annoyed.
oh different. She was sort OF prouo
baby"
There was a silence between them. Then
Beatrice spoke aloud, and suddenly.
TT all seems so unfair so wretchedly un-
:air!" she said.
Mrs. Daugherty bit off thread with teeth
which were as she often said, her own.
"What?" she asked mildly.
This whole business of being rich ana
adored and spoiled" Beatrice said slowly L
,ope I'm not bitter about it, Mrs Daugherty,
mt I am not much older than your Margot,
nd when I compare my life with hers-!
1v sister and were sckly kids. because my
lother couldn't afford to feed us properly.
ut your Margot-even the servants In TINS
,cuse talk about the she drove when she
Mrs. Daugherty said nothing.
And against the older womans silence
-catrices anger f1ared
You should have lived in the Middle Ages,
Irs Daugherty! You'd like Margot Anderson
be "a princess of the blood with all the
lagers curtseying when her carriage degned
% drive past EN- You know you would!'
Il believe in democracy, matter Of fact"
aid the housekeeper placidly. But after all
5 said and done, do think that John Griffith
Anderson is finer than most men. And I think
that Miss Margot is more-more like a princess
than other girls her age. I don't think lots
If very rich people like that, but think
he Andersons are. They'd be that way II
hey were poor-dog poor. They're like nobility
used to be-"
OH" cried Beatrice Mum. flushing I
don't agree with you at all, I'm afraid There
isn't any noblesse oblige these days, Mrs.
Daugherty"
Maybe there isn't" said Mrs. Daugherty
very quietly. But maybe there is"
I'm sorry" said Beatrice. and for a mo-
nent she put her prim little hand Mrs.
Daugherty's arm I'm sorry I said anything.
like your being loyal"
And this conviction was honest enough. In
deed Beatrice herself was possessed of a queer
excitement as the hour of Margot Anderson's
arrival drew nearer.
Margot came
c HE came dramatically and splendidly 1t
y was as if she had come without warning
because always, after she had been away, she
a surprise and bewilderment
A few little poets of the hour had tried to
describe Margot. She was like a rush Of wild
scarlet poppies down a hillside In Spring. She
was like the crash of wave on sands shining
bright in the sun. She was like laughter
itself.
She brought with her suit cases and golf
bag hat boxes and trunks and a young man
presenting the latter to her father with a most
unwonted shyness. The young man was called
Thomas O'Neil and, she explained, he had
begun to make quite a name for himself In
medical research.
Beatrice looked at Margot She was very tall
and she held herself proudly. Her hair was
dark and sleek over an arrogant head. Her
skin was dark, too and when she smiled her
teeth seemed extraordinarily white.
Then, after she had met John Anderson's
youngest daughter, little insignificant Beatrice
Mum looked directly into the pleasant blue
eyes Of Thomas ONeill.
The eyes of Thomas ONeill were no bluer
than other peoples eyes. Nor was he rema14-
able in any way at all. Yet Beatrice Mum,
while she murmured something cool and polite,
was being dazzled by great light and deaf
ened by great roar.
There had always been romantic impulse
in Beatrice Munns breast, but it had been an
impulse guarded very soberly and carefully.
Beatrice, who was sensible and thrifty about
everything else was sensible and thrifty about
her emotions as we'll She was in no way re-
sponsible for the dazzling light and the deaf
ening roar But in precisely this fashion love
came to her.
TO mention the name Of Thomas ONeill was
! both q torment and soace But not
weighing the cost of the torment the worth
Of the solace Beatrice sought the company Of
Mrs. Daugherty, to whom the name might, in
safety, be mentioned.
Mrs. Daugherty slipped thread of apricot
colored silk through an 1unnitesimal needles