Hyder weekly herald., 1934-03-24
He Didn't Forget
By ALICE DUANE
@. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate
 wNU Service

NhfS hnu uccH lhe DiS tNcut tHch ui the cadets from the nearby military academy came fin their colorful uni forms of French blue; then sweet hearts, fathers and mothers from home.
 Tonight the college was in readi- ness for the colossal event. At her window at the far end of the second floor hall Fran Marshall. teacher of English and literature. sat looking out over the rolling campus bathed in a soft silver moonlight. Twenty years ago, she had been a girl of Wildcliff and had been thrilled at the prospects of the annual ball.
 She. too. had had her party dress white voile with lace-edged ruffles around the bottom.
 And 1t was twenty years ago tonight that the waltz and two-step had sound ed out over the campus until the wee hours of the morning, and Fran Mar shall had danced nine dances with the tall blond cadet in blue; had walked with him beneath the oaks in the moonlight. and eaten her ice cream and cake with him behind the palms in the gymnasium.
 He had liked her white dress, but most of all, he had liked her emerald earrings, long slender pendants set in dull gold. falling almost to her shoul. ders. He had said emerald green was his favorite color. And he had kissed her that night and said he would come back.
 Fran never left Wildcliff. Following her graduation, she had been placed on the faculty. And she was smillngly tolerant of the whispered consultations long after the quiet bell had rung. They were young, and only once she argued to herself.
 She moved to her dressing table to arrange her hair. when a dark, slen- der girl came in. radiant in a chiffon frock.
 Peggy Thompson was the schools pepplest girl and rules meant little to her. Fran knew of the happy -go-lucky father who was seldom home long enough to get acquainted with his love- ly, motherless daughter. Peggy showed letters from Africa, Asia, Cen. tral America. and recently, from Egypt.
 T thought I'd find you dressing for the dance. Miss Marshall. Sam is here, and don't know what to do with him.
 "Sam?" queried Fran. (Which one of the swains Is Sam?"
 "Sam Is my father. He landed in New York this morning.
 "Oh, am glad he Is your father. thought 1t might be another admlrer arriving in addition to the rhree al- ready here. Aren't you happy to see your father?"
 "Oh. yes" drawled the girl. But l hardy know Sam. He is good old scout, but such vagabOnd! But l do declare, Miss Marshall. don't know what l shall do with him with Bobby and Hank and Ed to look after"
 Well. my dear, don't neglect your father. You are all he has, you know. Let the boys shift for themselves"
 "Sam Is lecturing me something fierce for having my hair shingled. Says he likes old-fashioned girls. Oh, Miss Marshall, let me do your hair. Part 1t in the middle and coil 1t low on your neck. Please now And you should have earrings"
 Fran Marshall smiled at herself in the mirror an hour later. Her usual ly sleek hair was softened over the ears and coiled low on her neck. Her dress was white. lovely soft silk thing she had bought in New York. Fran always wore a white dress. For a second her hand toyed with the em- erald earrings In her jewel case. Twenty years ago tonight she had worn those exquisite things and then she was fastening them in her ears. As she joined the other members of the faculty. Peggy Thompson spied her and came across the floor holding fast to the hand of big blond man. Miss Marshall. Sam. And Miss Marshall, this Is my father" Ha lonkad cfroioht into Jro ne nvo.