Evening star., 1933-06-25


movement that was the all-uncon-
SciouS grace of her Is years and
dropped wearily into her fathers va
j Gated chair. Then she cupped her
small oval chin in the palms of her
hands, rested her elbows on the tables edge
and with young, solemn gray eyes, stared 81
lently at Marjorie Tiffany.
Her mother-to think that she could be do
ing this frightful thing to her father!
or course, her father was q little old. There
were tiny lines around the deep, dark eyes, A
bit OF gray peeped through the black waves at
his temples too.
But at that, he only three or four years
older than Marjorie-0 his last birthday, or
was 1t 80? 1t was hard to think clearly when
your mind was so confused with trouble But
whatever his age, there wasn't enough diff
ference to cause Marjorie to become tired Of
him
It wasn't as if it were a May and March, or
Spring and Winter, or whatever you call those
uth-and-old-age matches. There was no rea-
son that she could see why Marjorie Tiffany
wanted another mani
Stuart's heart beat little faster and a faint
blush crept into her cheeks when she thought
OF her mothers other man! She had seen him
once. He was tall and dark and SLIM like her
father, with wonderful eyes and . smudge Of
black. curling lashes that her father would have
loathed.
Her father would have said: "Whew! Did
them to see his way about!" But they were
nice lashes, just the same, and his eyes were
nice, too-not bit of blue in them, just gray
like q wistful twilight.
CTUART remembered vividly the morning
- that the young man had driven up to the
door OF their house and had asked for Marjorie
In q tone that seemed to defy any one to re-
fuse his request-husband or no husband!
At the sound Of his voice Marjorie had
rushed around her room like some creature
gone suddenly wild She had powdered her
tip-tilted nose six or eight times, she had
thrown all OF her dresses on the bed, picking
and choosing among them finally wailing that
she never had anything decent to wear
Then in perfect futter, swinging her silky
hips. she had breezed down the winding stairs
to greet young Mr.. Maxwell with an enthusiasm
that she seldom exhibited They had rushed
out of the house after that arm in arm and
on to-she wondered just where they were "off
t." that morning. her mother and Mr.. Maxwell
Even stretching her imagination to the limit
and, indeed, that was little stretching she
had to admit that she had not the faintest idea
where they had gone
Later that day when Marjorie had come
home. still flushed and excited, facets of
laughter in the diamond brightness of her blue
eyes, Stuart had asked so many questions, in
such quick succession, that her mother had
stamped her tiny foot, like an ILL tempered
little girl:
"Oh! Stuart! Be quieti I'm not going to
tell you one word about Mr. Maxwell and don't
you dare tell your father. or even hint that
I've seen him! If you do, I1l-!!"
She didn't say what she would do if Stuart
told John Tiffany, for in the very next second
she had just seemed to forget all about Stuart
and her father and the home that sLe Wa
wrecking. You could tell by the glow In her
cheeks, bright like fruit stains and the rapture
In her eyes. that she was thinking only Of
Donald Maxwell.
And that's how it had started that affair
between Marjorie Tiffany and Donald Maxwell
The very next day. at exactly 10 O'Clock,
Marjorie was in the same hectic rush. When
she was finally dressed, her blue crepe flowing
Is close as water over her slim body, she snug
gled into her fur coat, dashed up the striated
radiance OF Elm streets cottonwoods and turned
out of sight around the corner
THE third day, Stuart deeply suspicious
~ shadowed her mother and discovered that
her suspicious were only too correct Her mother
was meeting Mr. Maxwell three blocks frora
the house ON a street corner!
Stuart shivered. her hands limp and - cold
rs lard. when she thought of her mother meet
ing man. and particularly on a street unrner.
Anything as low and degrading as mSet-
Ing man on q street corneri
AT that moment Marjorie Tiffany lifted her
lovely golden head from the morning paper and