The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1935-09-09
now 90 on Win TIE STORY
CHAPTER ELEVEN

w second morning III the quiet
old Hunter mansion she did so
without any feeling Of guilt or re-
morse. Having made her decision
70 remain. she resolved TO enjoy her
stay 10 the fullest. The stage was
set for a fortnight which she had
T every reason to believe would be the
happiest of her life
True. there was the possibility OF
+ Elaine Chalmers appearing on the
+ scene. but this was remote. The
+ girl had, of course, written Penny
that she was arriving in a few
/ weeks" Penny's eyes had hardly
/ deceived her on that point
4 I'll be gone" thought Ruth,
with a week or two to spare. I'll
have had my little masquerade, and
no harm dOne-unless maybe to my
own heart III leave note behind
me. asking forgiveness And that's
all therell be TO that"
That other cloud on the horizon.
/ Pcnny's -queerness. Ruth dis
missed also. Aside from the mat
+ ter of the blue door. Penny seemed
normal and reliable.
Ruth had enough natural curiOsi-
f ~ TO wonder about the old wOm-
ans strange regard for her freshly
painted door but intuition warned
her not to pry. Good guests never
turn detective.
Some one was whistling on the
lawn outside. Ruth hoped she
knew who it was
Wrapping herself IN the bathrobe
that Penny had lent her, she ven
tured across the room and peeped
out. John Mcneil was there look
ing up at her window.
He called out tremendously:
The Mcneil heir greets the Chal-
mcrs- Hunter heiress and in
vites her for buggy ride at this
evening"
Ruth clutched the clumsy robe at
her neck and drew nearer. DO
they still use buggies in Ohio?" she
asked soberly.
~Eight-cylinder ones. mostly
Whist go. fair maid? Or wouldst
choose to Ianguish in thy ratty
toWer?"
Ruth called, I'll 90, of course,
idiot But make it a country road.
I don't feel like meeting persons.
I'm here for a rest.
so that's what you're here for,
John Mcneil replied graphically.
I've been waiting for you to tell
me"
We'll" she said, now you know'
She reckleSsly blew him a kiss and
withdrew. her heart pounding fool
ishly. Presently she heard him
drive away.
ID UTH, dressing, wished that she
IN had a gift for Penny's seventy
fifth birthday.
Imagine not being able to buy
her anything she thought regret
fully Not even narciSsus bulbs.
like the ones I got Cousin Bessie
Cousin Bessiel How unreal she
seemed now. Ruth counted back
one. two, three nights ago the Law
renceS had doomed as colossal figures
in her life. Cousin Bessies home
had sheltered her Cecil's selfish
little habits had angered her. LettyS
cold-as-steel jealousy had driven
her out into the inhOSpitable streets
to seek escape And now they
seemed far away and unimpOrtant,
like persons in a dream.
Il must write to Cousin Bessie"
Ruth decided. She'll worry about
me if she doesn't hear" And yet
she knew the worry would be mild.
In Bessie Lawrence's world of fam
tastic manuscripts, nothing could
seem very strange. not even Ruth's
impulSive flight.
For a hopeful moment or two
Ruth considered asking the Law
renceS to send her clothes to her.
Their she dismissed the idea. re-
aliIug that she must wait until she
could receive them under her own
name. She thought regretfully OF
the things she so needed and must
do without. How rash she had
been to come off in such headlong
wavl
Ruth went downstairs and, while
Penny was bringing her breakfast
TO the table. went into the drawing
room and raised the lid of the old
square piano which she had polished
the dav before Running her fingers
over the tinkling yellow keys she
played Happy Birthday to Youl'
and sang il precisely. using Penny's
name in the refrain to make it per-
sOnai.
The old woman came to the door.
coffee-pot in hand and baaming
with pleasure. Mercy me. Miss
Elainel I remember they used to
sing that song At your birthday par
ties And now you're slngin' 1t
I special for mel
Ruth smiled abSentlv as she rose
from the piano and kissed the old
wOman's withered cheek She said:
We used to sing it at Sunday
I school too. Penn" She was think
ing Of the last time she had heard
it. The children in her Sunday
school class had sung it on her
twelfth birthday and she was sup
/ posed to respond by dropping y
/ pennies into the class bank. The
/ cousin with whom she was living at
the time had failed to supply her
with the meager handful OF copper
+ pieces which would have saved her
pride. and Ruth had stood blushing
and pulling at her handkerchief