The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1934-06-08

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Beads! Necklaces! valerie's thoughts
flew back over the times that had been
-. That centuries old jade thing that
! Bruce Daniel had brought from the
orient. Bruce, whom she must always
fall Just short of loving but to whom
she was still, she supposed, engaged.
Or, would he DOR tire Of waiting e.
And the matched pearls, breath taking
in their loneliness! A gift from her
father at her coming out. Three, no,
four years ago! How old she was gett-
ing! -. Her father. She must try not
to think about that. At least not until
she was-what did they say? "cured!"
True, they had drifted apart with the
coming of her ~stepmother. But now
that he was in dire trouble, there could
be no question of ones loyalty. And
the pearls? Were they still in the vault?
Or was there even a vault-now that
Jerome Stanwood's financial pyramid
had come crashing to earth, leaving
him ruined, disgraced and more!-in-
dicted under the law like any criminal.
Hello, there!"
A tall, hulking figure by her side; a
face, brown, smiling, friendly, bending
close to hers. That young doctor chap.
f1dIllOIl, WdSIlG IL! LII. N1dIh 11d41O4l,
some one had said.
Liking it any better?"
Valerie came back to the present
with an effort.
"I've just had another x-ray. If only
one could accept the idea of-of being
ill-and then not think about It'll"
20, that?" said the brown face easily,
lin six months, you won't remember
that life was ever any Different"
And to that Valerie had no answer.
The foyer outside the dining room
was noisy with people. Laughter! What
could they find to be gay about? Part
ing from Hanlon, she heard him say
quietly! whatever happens, don't get
discouraged"
Later, from her place in the dining
room, Valerie could get a glimpse of his
broad shoulders at the staff table on the
far side of the room. And somehow
sculptural in its quality, doomed briefly
above a score of faces that meant less
than nothing.
With little appetite, she glanced about
her, curiously. These people! The
women, smartly dressed, colorful; a few
of them beautiful. The men, many of
them, already in flannels. Youth for
the most part; but a scattering of older
ones. But how well they all looked!
But then, Of course, the really sick ones
weren't mere at all. They were up in
the infirmary having their dinner
brought to them on a tray. These
people, who lived the more active life
ION the grounds" were incipient cases
like her own. Or they were advanced
cases whose recovery was already as
sured. tuberculosis! Even now VAL
erie fought shy of the word.
She was aware of a certain accelerat-
ed flutter of interest around her. A
new patient. Escorted to his table by
that same pretty nurse she had MOTTO
ed. Valerie recalled her own startling
introduction to this o The muir
muir Of voices that had faded perceptib-
ly. More than head turned to re-
gard her progress. Nothing new in that,
Of. course, 49,. Park venue . . New
port -. The Riviera. It va some
thing one came to expect-and thought
no more about.
But this, she had sensed Instructive
~, was different. These men and
! women were cataloging her Is they
did each new arrival destined to be-
come one with them. They were gaug-
ing her; seeking to establish, at a
glance, her potential worth to the
queer, centripetal microcosm wherein
fate had brought them to move.
And now, from across the table, a
slightly gray man, whose vague eyes
found refuge behind enormous spect-
acles, wa saying at some length:
"Ah, Miss Stanwood! And how is our
new patient this afternoon? Still hat
ing it all I presume? But you'll come
to like it well enough in time. And
you'll find we're not such a bad sort
eh, Leech?"-he inclined his head to-
ward the younger man on his left. The
younger man ignored him.
Eyes, indeed" the vague eyes found
Valerie again. 1--WE often said, If M
must have t. b. there's no better place
for it than Baldwin! - Don't you agree,
Martini"
A dark, slightly unpleasant looking
man in tweeds, glanced up from his
plate. His eyes fixed themselves on
Valerie, somber, haunted, n might
almost have said.
1.-THE professor" he said listlessly,
"is an incurable ase-as an optimist
and a maker OF polite conversation"
Silence at the table.
The blonde girl on her lett q
sharply cross Valerie's shoulder, "sug-
ar, pleased"
"Ha!" the professor resumed, in
diligently, mustn't mind Martin, Miss
Stanwood. Bitter. Disillusioned, I'm
afraid. A novelist who confuses real
ism with ugliness. So many Of the new
crowd. Regretable. I've-ah, lectured
ON it more than once!"
The plump, slightly faded little wom-
an at the head Of the table was saying
to any who cared to listen:
"That pretty Miss Baron comes down
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