The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1933-10-30

Eugenia retorted angrily. "she
was asked for you"
Mrs. Lawrence, the Nora Law
renee whom Mrs. Barstow had
asked to keep her company while
the four young people amused
themselves, raised an inquiring eye
brow. Really, Lyla, you should
have warned rs. Such . change in
Curtis, galloping Of the road like
. colt! ] always thought Of him Is
such . serious young man, sur
rounded by law books and abstracts.
It's the girl, Of course. But, my
dear, who is she? Hastings-I don't
know any Hastings, except Alex
ander Hastings in Menlo Park"
"No," Mrs. Barstow said smooth
", "she isn't related to them. She's
one Of the Van Fleets though. Her
father was . naval officer, killed in
some engagement - the Spanish
war; No, it couldn't have been that,
well, something interesting
rather m unusual girl, and 50 tai.
ented. she designs costumes you
know"
"She's decorative all right" Tim
agreed, eagerly. "Wonder IL she
studied at Hopkins? / know = fel.
low, class Of "a 1t Stanford, did
some work there have to ask
her, about it"
"You1l never get the chance"
his sister said pointedly, "Curtis
will see to that: Are they engaged,
Mrs. Barstow?"
"No-oh no"
"Just lowering on the brink"
Mrs. Lawrence suggested malicious.
~. Poor Lyla, with al her brag.
ging about her wonderful son! How
badly she was taking it. Trying to
throw Eugenia Laird 1T him, and
salve the tawny Joan Of Arc per-
son with Tim-that homeless sar.
dine! Well, it was all over but the
wedding presents-any fool could
see that. Any fool but Lyla. The
way Curtis came to her, brushing
al the rest Of them aside comic!
-. 1--WE always been glad al my
boys were girls, Lyla. Imagine
handing son over TO another wom-
IN. I never could do it. I'd poison
her first!"
Lyla Barstow touched her dry
lips with the tip Of her tongue.
Nonsense" she said, "she's only .
child. I'm more interested in her
than he is. If I'm to worry about
any girl it will be Eugenia. He's
always talking about you, Gene
always"
And out in the fresh cool air Cur
tis and Joan raced down the hill,
holding hands like children, laugh
ing, sliding in the soft dirt, scat
tering pebbles and clumps Of messy
ground. !.
His smooth hair was mussed, big
blobs Of mud chung 70 his light suit,
"Come on-down TO the creek-see
Il there are any fish"
"Of course, there aren't-we
couldn't see them anyway" Joan's
cheeks were scarlet, when they
stopped running she skipped, be-
cause she was too happy to walk.
Out IN the hills again, IN the sweet
California country oil the yes
tsrdays forgotten in tho beauty Of
today.
They came hack 1t dusk. sank,
still breathless and laughing, into
big chairs near the fire. "Tomor.
row we'll 70 down to the creek, the
big one. There's . dam somewhere
down there. Wish II we're summer
20 We could swim. /. Mother, Joan
and ! are going to start ct six to.
morrow morning"
sSixl Il will b dark"
~Well, seven then-or half past
and take the old trail toward the
mill oh Gene and Tim, too.
Of course. Como with us, Genet"
II couldn't possibly 80 anywhere
% seven In the morning unless !
stayed up al night" Eusenis
Il wiill~ Timothy promised.
but 81 the morning Curtis for.
got to call him, % they went alone.
y had rai9ed 2 little in the night,
the sun made the raindrops gliStem
like tinsel In the trees. In . small
hollow IN the hills they found red
berries, great arInfuls Of them to
bring back to the cabin. Ever
thing II 20 beautiful, 20 fresh and
cool and rainwashed," Joan sighed
happily.
alike you." he said.
The sun went behind the clouds.
Fear touched her, sharp and jag
ged, piercing the veneer Of happi-
ness. She looked % him appealing-
~. always something 70 remind
her. 49,.
trace you down the hilll" she
called. She wouldn't givs way to it.
She had turned her back On i 4. /.
forever.
ITO b Continued TouorTow\