Evening star., 1934-07-01
CHAPTER xXXVI.

r AIRY, Rose thought, with a
queer, hysterical catch of her
breath, would have known Just
- what to do.
Larry China bound these
last 10 days. Larry, who would never
again smile down into her troubled
eyes, gathering the tangled threads Of
her woes into the grasp of his kindly
hand. Strange, how the thought OF
him had come just now-how clearly
the sound of his joyous, delighted
laugh had intruded across the fretted
pattern Of her thoughts.
"A man and a woman cannot be
friends-unless they are more than
friends!" he had quoted to her once,
months ago. All, but they couldl
Larry was wrong. To be friends
with a man like that man who had
just gone into the Therrold house;
to be friends with Jeffrey Therrold,
was to be warm again, wrapped in a
blanket Of content that only friend
ship could bestow.
1t was half an hour now since jeff
rey had entered his mothers house,
leaving Rose sitting outside in his car.
Gone in, with his arm about the
dropping, broken pinions Of the sister
he loved so well
"You won't mind waiting moment
Il want to take Babs inside. And
want to drive you home"
Home. Once before Rose had ques-
toned that word, from the lips of the
man who used it now. Wondered from
the depths of her sore, shaken soul
where that home would finally be.
She stopped now to peer from the
window in the door of Jeffreys car at
the house at the end Of the drive.
Harvey's home.
freight throwing lancing shadows
on the ceiling of the room beside the
porch. On the cleaning keys of the
open piano, on the careless glory of
satin cushion-fallen to the floor.
On the twinkling prisms of the chan
deliers, the dim, gold frames on the
walls. Beauty security COM
fort peace. That window over the
white-pillared doorway That would
be Barbara's room. Looped taffeta
drapes and white wainscoting and
crystal jars. Barbara, who but a
short hour before had clung with
frantic hands to her brothers hard
arm, sobbing, Take me home, JEFF |!
Oh. please take me home!"
They had taken her home. Silent,
crumbled in the rear seat of the car.
Home to the Therrold house on the
hill.
A Barbara who had danced to the
tune the fiddler played, and was pay
ing now for the dance. A Barbara
who came stiffly around the front seat
where Rose sat, after JEFF had sought
to lead her into the house A Bar
bara who had raised a gallant, pitiful
face to Rose, holding out a chilled
small hand to meet the warm clasp
Of her own. A Barbara who had said
with what effort, only JEFF Therrold
knew:
I'm sorry. Goodnight. And
thanks-a lott"
Muffled, bitter voices now, inside
that lovely house. Voices and the
sound of soft crying, as JEFF Therrold
came slowly down the stairs to drive
Rose Therrold to the cottage by the
river that with all her thankful heart
she knew was home for her.
The window blind on the BasSett
cottage opposite shook violently and
settled into place.
From next door sounded the shat
tering squeak Of the screen that
shrouded the SHADES kitchen door.
Under the dim light of the pallid
stars, Jeffrey Therrold's car stopped
its cleaning, throbbing length before
Rose Therrolds house. And Jeffrey
Therold, following the girl slowly up
the path, came to rest under the
withered lace Of the frozen honey
suckle vine that bordered the small
back porch.
New Year eve, and from the white
shadows of the country club on the
hill came the pulsating, languoroUa
beat of the New Year ball. New
Year eve And another year trail
ing slowly over the edge of the world
dragging its numbing weight Of old
regrets, old memories and old resolves
This, Rose thought, staring silently
over the white, shrouded garden
stretching down to the rivers rim
was what she wanted most in life
This little house, with its struggling
picket fence. Her baby-her new work
and her friends Friendship with
man such as Larry had been. only
without Larry's dear, unstable trend
Friendship with the sort Of man JEFF
Therrold could be Her gray eyes
watched him covertly through the
gloom. -.
Last year, she brooded, was a thou
sand leagues away; remembering that