The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1933-05-20

deeply for Dan thstn any one
thought.
Monnie had temporized. But
can't leave Mother just now" she
had told Miss Antice. It's terri
bly, sweet of you'll don't know why
YOU thought Of me-but I'm needed
here"
That much certainly was true
Bill might go off any day now and
be married They hesitated to ask
him about his plans. He was moody
taciturn. After that brief formal
call Of Angles, they had not seer
her. But they imagined his affairs
were marching forward with due
precision.
GO and enjoy yourself" Mrs. o.
Dare would urge we can manage
Kay will be earning almost as much
as you 1 want you to have the
chance"
But Monnie was listless, openly
Indifferent TO the golden opportun-
ity. once it would have tempted
her beyond belief. But these days
she moved ate, walked like a per-
son under a spell Her eyes had a
sleepwalker's heavy glaze. She
scarcely knew what food she
touched, or who spoke to her.
It was Charles Eustace, curiouSly
enough, who reused her from this
apathy. He met her one day on the
street, walked home with her
through brilliant blaze of Septem-
Der sunlight.
"Kays been telling me you may
go to Paris" he began smiling.
Monnie stirred herself to smile
back at him, thinking impersonally
how big and splendid and attrac-
tive he was.
Rays spinning day dreams" she
told him. I'm not going"
"Why?" His voice held a note of
banter.
Obi" She lifted her hand and let
it fall in gesture of WEAKNESS.
Lots Of reasons"
"Monica!" His voice sounded al
most stern now. You mother wants
you to go. Do you know that?"
-
CHE stared at him. Mothers un-
~ selfish. But I really ought to
stay at home" she added bitterly
I suppose you've heard of money
troubles. Well, we have them
That's part of it."
Child alive! Do you suppose ]
don't know that? Monnie, I've been
wanting to talk to you about this
Please let me. I've got so much, a
great deal more than I need. If
you'd only"
She interrupted him. "You mean
let you give us money! You know
l can't do that"
Suddenly she felt the keenest
anger toward him. Her eyes flashed
L know you mean to be kind-Im
sure you do" she said coldly. but
after all, we can't take charity. No
We'll muddle along the best we can. ="
He was offended she could see
that. Perversely, she was glad
How dared any one offer her char
ity? She wouldn't have it. All the
pent-up resentment and bitterness
Of the past weeks welled up in her
Its bad enough to be poor" she
said, her breast heaving, her voice
thickening, without having people
plying you-"
"Monnie!" The sound of her
name, spoken so, brought her up
sharp. You know you're talking
nonsense. No one pitieS you. It's
envy most of us feel"
'Envy?" She was surprised out
Of her mood, tears trembling on
the ends of her lashes.
Il said just that and I mean It"
announced the tall man Striding
beside her.
"A home like yourS-a mother like
that-the simple goodness of the
life you've led. I tell you it did
something to me when first I Ell
countered it
Monnie was abashed. There was
no mistaking the sincerity of his
tone.
when I came here last year
Charles Eustace said quietly, medi-
tatiVely, almost as though speaking
to himself, Il was pretty much al
in. Didn't have much faith in any
thing. I was out of tune with this
country, I'd been away so long.
Then uncle asked me if I'd like tt
vegetate in his old house. I was
in no state to decide things for
myself. Kong packed me up anc
brought me here. 1 hadn't been here
long when I met you-all of you
I thought yours was the happiest
the incest sort of family I'd ever
met.
Il don't remember my mother
She died when I was 4. My father
was a busy doctor in New York
I seldom saw him and was sent
away to prep school when I was
very young.
The only home life I'd ever known
I'd read about and I didn't really
believe in it. Then I discovered
your house, where everybody seemed
genuinely fond Of everybody else
and tried to help. I hope" finished
Charles stiffly, that I don't sound
like a sentimental fool, but honest
ly it did something to me-gave me
something I needed. Faith-some-
thing like that don't know. And
you talk about being pitied!"
q
NTONNIE, ashamed but stubborn,
Iva said, Then you pretend tc
think money doesn't count? That
because you've always had so much
of it. You've never had to worry
about where the interest money
was coming from, or cry yourself to
slep because the girls at school
made fun OF your old coat"
His voice was gentle now. II dc
know it's important. But it's not
all 1t Smooths life, makes it easy
and comfortable. But it doesn't buy
affection or the kind of happiness