The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-12-05
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WHAT HAS HAPPENED so FAE

WHAT HAS HAPPENED so FAR
 After the death O finer parents, lovely DANA WESTBROOK, child of her mothers second marriage, comes to America to live with her grandmother, MRS. WILL LIZARD CAMERON.
 Dana's half-siSter, NANCY WALLACE, Is resentful over Dana's coming.
 Mrs, Cameron decides to intro duce Dana to the social set, hop ing rich DONALD MOORE will become seriously interested.
 Dana, meanwhile, has met and become attracted to young DIR. SCOTT STANLEY.
 Nancy, who masks her love for Ronald behind an antagOniStic attitude, dresses happily for the party. Her happiness fades when she sees Dana, radiant and beau tiful, in twin frOck.
 Dana, alone on the porch while Ronald goes to bring her glass of punch, answers a whistle from the garden, and finds Scott there.
 Returning, Ronald finds Nancy on the porch. In the darkness he kisses her, thinking she is Dana. Nancy's vehement anger puzzles him.
 NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
 CHAPTER x (
 He was disappointed. Whatever else he had failed to think of Nancy, he had always considered her straight shooter. Completely sincere. It all went to prove you couldn't tell a darn thing about girl. Not darn thing!
 With in a month everyone had ceased to speculate about Dana and Ronald Moore. They were en- gaged-or soon would be. Every body said so; the constandt atten- tions he showered upon her proved it. Dana had won the town catch, and that was that
 There was talk among the older women about MrS. Cameron'S match making proclivities. Ambi- tious mothers relinquish a coveted goal none too gracefully. Mrs. Weatherford, who lived across from the Camerons, discussed the situa- tion with her friend, Mrs. Prescott, sitting on the porch of the Wealth erford home. RonnieS roadster had been parked before the Cam eron front door earlier in the af- ternoon but now it had disappeared.
 Its like turning the clock back" Mrs. Wetherford said. Agatha Cameron used the very same tactics to push the childs mother into a lovelesS marriage when she was eating her heart out for young Westbroow. I always thought Agatha deserved every thing she got in the way of un- happiness for that affair"
 ''Well, nobody would guess her granddaughter is being pushed" !" Ms. Prescott sniffed. I've heard that when she found out he was the richest boy in town she got out that old rattletrap car of theirs and staged breakdown right in front of his home. A friend of mine saw her!"
 ~Grandmothers and grandaugh- ters today both want the same thing = money" Mrs. Weatherford said, adding hastily, That is, some of them do. I've always said the happiness of my girls is all that matters to me-"
 Grandmother Cameron was driv- mg home as this conversation took place. She had gone out into the country for eggs. Four dozen of them, boxed, were hidden beneath an old rug in the back of the car. Eggs were cheaper, bought that way. It was one of the petty econ- omieS Grandmother Cameron loathed but had practiced for years. She had never really became ac- customed to being poor. Not even during the depression. When friends Haunted their economies and talked brazenly about shop ping for cheaper things, or not shopping at all, she had kept up pretense of ample funds. She had always hidden the eggs.
 The drive carried her past a large, deserted building on the outskirts of town. Once it had been the most fashionable girls school in the state. Above the en- trance arch, in great letters, were carved the words, That Our Daughters Shall Be as Corner stones, Polished After the Simili- tude of a Palace.
 And girls had been polished, their manners flawless in those days. Many times in the past her carriage had whirled past this building. The lawn had been alive then with graceful young figures. Mrs. Cameron could always single out one girl with rich, brown hair. Some of her classmates had hinted that Dana's mother washed her hair in champagne to get that beautiful vivid sheen. =.
 Mrs. Cameron pulled the old car sharply to one side as powerfully built roadster, driven at what she was sure was a horribly reckless speed, bore down upon her, flash ing ahead. The driver was Ron- nie Moore. He lifted his hat in the gallant way she liked, and she flushed with pleasure. Not all young men were SO courteous to older people as Ronnie was. Some of them nodded, without lifting their hats. Some of them didn't wear hats at all.
 There was Scott Stanley, for in- stance. Home with a doctors de- gree, the honor man of his class. Yet you'd very likely see him hat less, with his hair rumpled, and apparently not bothered by it at all. Ronnie, Mrs. Cameron had noted with relief, was alone. She would have felt hanpier if Dana had been