The Washington times., 1934-09-29

nd again TO the lett. =.
couldn't make it before midnight,
probably not as early as that, in
the sort Of bus we could get
around here.
I'm fearfully sorry, Cathleen,
but there's only one thing we can
do-get put up for the night in
the village here, I suppose there's
q village, I saw q light or two
and 90 in by the eight-sixteen to"
morrow!"
"Oh," said Cathleen blankly.
"You can tell your people it's
all my fault. I don't imagine
you'll care to 60 out with me
again ever, after the dumb way
I've acted. ! feel terribly"
Chagrin
His face and voice showed his
distress, a boys chagrin at having
failed in his simple, obvious duty
Of taking care Of q girl. Cathleen
put her own dismay aside to COM
fort him.
1--WE had q wonderful time, Sc.
ward. I've loved it. and there
wasn't q single thing that went
wrong that was your fault. We're
just out Of luck. The worst Is, I
can't telephone home, we haven't
a phone! Usually We send mes
sages to the grocery store, but you
Sen it's Gllndov-S
"Weu telegraph them, then.
Here. you be writing out what you
want to say, while I call up
GrangefieldS and tell them not to
expect me tonight"
"Oh, what'l say?" Cathleen
wondered, confronted by the tele-
graph blank. "You have to put it
into ten words. ..."
And ten thousand words, she
knew, would never make her
father and mother understand. =.
Through the half-shut door Of
the telephone booth she could hear
Seward carelessly describing their
situation to his mother. I'm
fearfully sorry-mislaid my car
in a darn silly way. Tell you about
it tomorrow. i don't think It's
permanently lost. I know about
where ! left it, and the farmers
out here are pretty honest as q
rule. I'll find a tourists rest
or something. e. Had date with
Millicent for tonight. Will you
call her. mother, and tell her 7
can't make t? Tell her I'm going
to cry myself to sleep. All right.
I will. Good night. mother
goo'by-"
II they only had q phone! How
could she write a telegram that
would make them understand?
Mentally, she wrote:
Mother and father, don't
judge me. It is an accident: I
could not help it: ! cannot get
home tonight; he is looking after
me as we'll as he can. I shall have
q room to myself. I am. your
daughter"
But she could not say that. It
would sound silly, stupid, unfair
to Seward. What she had to say
she could say better after she
reached home. So she wrote 10
words:
Accidentally delayed. Unable
to get home tonight. Everything
all right. Love.
"CATE1LEEN."
Arm in arm, the boy and the
girl walked down the dark road
away from the station. BY now
1t was fully night.
When they reached the house
Seward knocked at the door and
told the boy who opened it that
they wanted rooms and dinner.
Cathleen, when they were alone,
sank thankfully into the nearest
chair. This stationary rocker, cov-
cred in magenta plush, represent
ed to her all the luxury in the
world.
An alright stove, dull black
with bright nickel trim, jutted
from the wall into the room,
straddling on q sheet Of zinc.
There was a center table, bearing
an oil lamp converted to modern
uses by the simple means Of dan.
Cling an electric light bulb inside
its china shade. An upright piano,
the lid closed over its keyboard,
stood in a corner.
ANY port in q Storm" said
Seward hopefully. Especially II
they can give us some decent
food. I'm starving, aren't your"
"1've thought Of nothing else
for an hour" she said. "but all
the good food we left in the
carl"
A woman appeared, small and
creased and voluble. II never
expect to have people Slate in
the years this. Being off the
main road, we don't get the
Tourist @1o%a Tile ~v1a ~ynN1li -