Evening star., 1935-08-04
CHAPTER ONE.

llR0L IWEeu IOdIs
happy" she thought; i nave every
thing OF make me happy-a loo' youtn.
strength" But even as she argued
With herself tears sparkled ike small
diamonds on her long black lasnes. A
tremble went through her ana stirreo
her coat as if it had been a breeze.
She wasn't happy. She was miser-
able and afraid. Afraid OF LiDpy
Stockton's sleepily amorous green eyes,
of Libby Stockton's hair that was as
black as an eaves-swalloWs wing
afraid of the long maroon limousine
and the impressive white marble man
sion lust off Sheridan Circle that were
mart of Iibby's brilliant background.
She hadn't been afraid OF these tnlngs
at first. Not until last night.
She had known from the beginning
hat Marshall Van Devanter knew girls
like Libby Stockton; girls whose lovely
faces smiled out of the society pages.
wealthy girls whose voices were trained
TO be as clear and pure as drops OF
water falling singly from prancn.
Girls like Libby Stockton.
Marshall knew lots of them oe-
fore he ever met me-" she had told
herself over and over to still the tiny
imp of unhappiness that sometimes
crept into her thoughts. He knew
them and still he fell in love with me.
Marshall had known that she was
very poor; that most Of her salary as
tvnist in the Government went toward
the support of her family; that her
father was out of work and that her
brother Terry waited tables at the uni
yersitv for his tuition. He had known
all those things and still he had fallen
in love with her. 1t hadn't been a
s,,rnrise when he had asked her 10
marry. him. 1t was what sne nao
hoped for, dreamed of, prayed for. And
vet. when he had asked her IL nao
been moment too SHINING 10 oe
grasped.
wen keep our engagement secret
for a while" he had said, his dark
eyes begging her to understand. "Just
as soon as I can get little money
or the position I want then - on,
she had understood. There wasn't
ANYTHING about getting positions and
not having money that she didn't un-
derstand.
But last night on the Wayne Kings
tons yacht, with that gay crowd dane
ing aft, there had been Libby Stock
ton in a petunia frock, changing part
ners about every two seconds; Mar
shall, there, with the other sleek young
men cutting in on her, quarreling un-
der the pretense of railery for dance.
Libby's skirt had been bright swirl
around her ankles, it being that sort
of frock, born of Paris and famous
couturiere, and her slippers had been
as green and bright as her eyes.
Betsy had leaned against the dark
ruddy battens of the bar salons wall
and had tried not to watch the petunia
frock through the doorway; had tried
not to think of her own evening dress
that she had made from white taffe-
ia remnant. The dress had seemed
pretty enough at home after mother
had pressed the hem of the billowing
skirt and had stitched rhinestones at
the halter neck. But under the yachts
bright lights it had seemed cheap and
homemade. She could have stood that,
thought She could have stood the
lifted eyebrows of the girls that mutely
said the white taffeta was an unknown
species to them. She could have stood
anything to come on this moonlight
cruise down the Potomac with Mar
shall-the first time Marshall had
asked her to meet his friends.
She had been, Betsy told herself
now as she winked the tears from her
lashes, merely intrigued by the pat
terms woven by the high lights of the
petunia satin. Yet every time Mar
shall had taken Libby Stockton in his
arms her heart had gone dying all
along her body. 1t wasn't that Mar
shall had just danced with Libby. He
had done something little more than
dance. He had held her close to
him-too close-and his race had
touched the soft line of her cheek
His eyes had dreamed into space as if
it were all very pleasant to him.
Later in the evening when Raoul
De Prudentio had strode across the
deck to her, had bowed gracefully
rom his slim waist-"You're Miss Sey-
mour, aren't you? May have this
dance?"-she had gone into his arms
so gracefully, had clung to him so des-
perately, that Raoul had mistaken her
emotion for something else. He had
I1nr 70 hi nd hod
daringly kissed the crown of her head.
After that young men had begun
asking her for dances; young men
who said things about her violet-blue
eyes and her smile and her golden
hair They didn't seem to notice that
she wore a white taffeta that she had
made herself. And so. to stimulate the
interest of the only man who mattered
at all, she had been as sweet as she
knew how to them all. She had
watched out Of the tail of her eyes to
see with whom Marshall danced; If it
was with Libby it had made her mis-
erable She couldn't keep her mind on
her partner when Marshall was with
Libby. She had wondered why she
felt this way about Libby and not the
other girls who were Just as pretty,
just as rich. Then suddenly, she
had known. Libby was after Mar
shall She had shown it in dozen
ways; clever feminine ways that man
wouldn't see through green eyes
flashing up into his, red chiseled lips
smiling slluringly, slender fingers sur
reptitiously caressing the dark hair at
the back Of his head.
At midnight because she had seen
Marshall, with Libby worn like a bright
flower on his arm, disappear down the
deck to the how Of the yacht, Betsy
had laughed up at the blond young
man with whom she had been dancing.
She had felt his eyes move blue and
secret and admiring over her.
He sad said: 'I like your laugh. It's
Like silver bells"
And she had said, Don't underesti-
mate mel I'm sure you must mean
golden quite gently, with little sigh
behind the golden. But the sigh hadn't
been for the blond young man. 1t had
been for fear in her throat; the fear Of
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