The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1935-11-29
BY Sara Ware Bassett
Copyright by The Penn Pub. Co.
WNU Service


the conversation-twists that taxed
ones power of repartee. Here indeed
was a hitherto undreamed-of Stanley
Heath, a man whose dangerous charms
had multiplied hundredfold and who,
If he had captivated Marcia before
now riveted her letters with every
word he spoke, every glance he gave
her.
She struggled to escape from the
snare closing in on her, then finding
combat useless, ceased to struggle and
let herself drift with the tide.
After all, why not enjoy the present?
In loving this stranger of whom she
knew so little, she had set, her heart
upon phantom that she knew must
vanish. The future, grim with fore
boding, was constantly drawing nearer.
There were, alas, but two ways of
life-the way of right and the way of
wrong, and between them lay no neu-
trail zone. This she acknowledged with
her mind. But her rebel heart would
play her false. flouting her puritan
codes and defying the creeds that con-
science dictated.
Meantime while Marcia thus wrestled
with the angel of her best self, Sylvia
accepted the situation with character
istic lightness. She knew more al
ready about men than did Marcia
much more. Long ago they had ceased
to be gods to her. She TESTED fear
lessly with Heath, speaking language
with which he was familiar and one
that amused him no end.
Marcia felt jealousy clutching at her
heart.
One day, passing through the hall,
she saw Sylvia's golden head bent over
the table as she dashed off page after
page of closely written letter.
1t was a pity the elder woman could
not have read that letter. for it would
not only have astonished but also have
enlightened her and perhaps quieted
the beating of her troubled heart.
It was a letter that astonished Syl-
via herself. Nevertheless, much as
it surprised her, her amazement in no
way approached that of young Horatio
Fuller when he read it.
Now, Horatio's mother was a woman
of colorless, vaguely defined person
ality indicative of little guile and still
less determination. She listened we'll,
never Interrupted; never offered COM
ment or advice; never promised any
thing; and yet when she said as She
invariably did, "I'll talk with your
father, DEAR" there was always in
finite comfort in the observation.
That was what she said today after
a conversation with Horatio Junior.
Accordingly that evening after Hora-
ito Senior had dined, and dined well,
Mrs. Horatio gently impaired to AL
ton Citys leading citizen the intelli-
gence that his son, Horatio Junior,
wished to go east; that he was in
love; that, in short, he wished to
marry.
Horatio Senior ragged; he tramped
the floor; he heaped on the head Of
the absent Horatio Junior every ep-
tibet of reproach his wrath could de-
wise, the phrases driveling idiot and
audacious puppy appearing to afford
him the greatest measure of relief.
At last when GREATNESS and painting
Horatio Senior, like an alarm clock.
ran down and sank exhausted into his
chair, Mrs. Horatio ventured the ir-
REPUTABLE observation that after all
HOratio Junior was their only child,
and Sylvia Hayden was a nice little
thing. This drew fire.
Horatio Senior sputtered something
about nothing but a penniless school.
teacher-a nobody"
Very deliberately then Mrs. Horatio
murmured pleasantly that If she re-
membered rightly this had been the
very objection Horatio Seniors father
had made to their own marriage.
At this Horatio Senior flushed scar
let and said promptly that his mar
riage had been ideal; that his Jennie
had been the one wife in the world
for him; that time had proved it
even to his parents; that she was the
only person on earth who really un-
derstood him.
After this nothing was simpler than
to discuss just when Horatio Junior
had better start East.
Had Sylvia dreamed when she licked
the envelopes flap with her small red
tongue and smoothed it down with her
pretty white finger she was thus loos-
ing Alton City's thunderbolts, she
might, perhaps, have hesitated to send
the letter she had penned and per-
haps would not have started off so
jauntily late that afternoon to post it.
Toward six o'clock she telephoned
she was at the Doanes and Henry and
his mother-the little old lady she had
met on the train the day she arrived
wanted her to stay to supper. He
would bring her home early in the
evening. There would be moon
Marcia need not worry.
Marcia had not thought of worrying
until that minute, but now, in spite
of knowing Sylvia was safe and In
good hands she began, paradoxically
enough. to worry madly. Timidly as
a girl she summoned Stanley Heath