White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1935-08-15
THE STORY

1lle 1uGuTe Ol LIle Stlll youthful dllO
comely "Widder" Marcia Howe, recently
released by death from her idling, self
ish husband, is a conversational tit-bit
among the housewives of the little
hamlet of Wilton. Eligible bachelors
and widowers also evince more or
less unselfish interest in the "Widder."
Marcia despite her unfortunate ma
trimonial experience, finds pleasure in
her daily life. The story continues:
Today, as she moved swiftly about
the house and her deft hands made
tidy the rooms, she had that sense of
being in step with the world. The
morning, crisp with an easterly breeze,
had stirred the sea into swell that
rose rhythmically in measureless,
breathing immensely far away to it's
clear-cut, sapphire horizon. The sands
had never glistened more white; the
surf never curled at her doorway in a
prettier, more feathery line. From the
Point, where her snowy domains dipped
into more turbulent waters, she could
hear the grating roar of pebbles mingle
with the crash of heavier breakers.
It all spoke to her of home-home
as she had known it from childhood
as her father and her fathers father
had known it. The salt of deep buried
caverns was in her veins; the chant
of the ocean echoed the beating of her
own heart.
Lonely?
If she needed anything it was COM
panion to whom to cry: isn't it
glorious to be alive?" and she already
had such a one.
Never was there such comrade as
Prince Hal!
Human beings often proved them
selves incapable of grasping one an
others moods-but he? Never!
She would never want for a welcome
while he had strength to wag his
white plume of tail; nor lack of affec
ton so long as he was able to race up
the beach and race back again to hurl
himself upon her with his sharp, STAG
cato yelp of joy.
Oh, she was worlds better off with
Prince Hal than if she were linked up
with someone of her own genus who
could not understand
Besides, she was not going to be
alone. She had decided to try an
experiment.
Jason had had an orphaned niece
out In the Middle West-his sisters
child-a girl in her early twenties, and
Marcia had invited her to the island
for a visit.
In fact, Sylvia was expected today
That was why bowl of pansies
stood upon the table in the big bed
room at the head Of the stairs, and
why it's fireplace was heaped with
driftwood ready for lighting. That
was also the reason Marcia now stood
critically surveying her preparations.
She was especially DESTROYS the old
home should look it's best today, for
the outside world had contributed a
richness of setting that left her much
to live up to. Sylvia had never seen
the ocean. She must love it. But
WOC1O Sic. 1lldU Was W NC UllG UeSU
There was room, money, affection
enough for two beneath the Homestead
roof and Sylvia was alone in the
world. Moreover, Marcia felt an odd
sense of obligation toward Jason. At
the price of his life he had given her
back her freedom. 1t was a royal
gift and she owed him something in
return.
She was too honest to pretend she
had loved him or mourned his loss.
Soon after the beginning of their life
together, she had discovered he was
not at all the person she had supposed
him. The gay recklessness which had
so completely bewitched her and which
she had thought to be manliness had
been mere bombast and bravado. At
~>>~~>~~~~~~o~~~o~~