The Washington times., 1935-09-24

call you!
And all the while she could
zee herself walking down the
aisle of some dim, flower-decked
church, while the organ played
softly. and Jamie waited by the
altar -.
"I, Mary, take thee, james
The soft light from the candles
Uttered be tall white candles
and st. Joseph lilies, the way
they had them in the Episcopal
church where she went last
Easter with the Harveys)-Would
gleam on the ivory satin OF her
gown. She'd look up through
dark lashes (must remember to
put on olive oil every night, to
make them longer) and meet
Jamie's look of pure alteration.
Straight and slim and very
young she'd losk in the high
vaulted old church.
what a beautiful bride!"
eyes, but she's more than beauti-
full, there's a glamour about her,
q radiance"
It was all so real. More real
than the office. More real than
the commuters she passed on
her way to the ferry at night.
Then she'd get home. ANY
mail?"
And Ma would hardly look up
from the stove to say: mo, I
don't think so, Babe"
Or she'd say something else,
Hke-Yes! Your Aunt Mamie
sent postcard from Tia Juan.
They drove 26O miles, just so
Gus could get a Baccardi cock
tail. Imagine writing THAT on
a postcard, where anyone could
read it. And if that's the way
money affects man, why I'm
just as glad your father"
Nothing for ME?"
"For you? Oh, yes! Now
where did I put that? 1t came
this morning and as he brought
1t up, Mr.. Blank said, For the
little lady so I'm sure. We'll,
Mary! Don't take My head
off! It isn't lost! And any
way, it's only an ad from the
Emporium!"
No one could understand. She
couldn't understand herself. But
days were just to be endured
until she could get home to see
If the letter was there. Nights
were the dark stretches of dis
appointment between the days.
Life was nothing but waiting
for the mail.
Som e t ines the tenseness
would leave her. Hope would
come back. The certainty that
he was thinking of her, coming
to her, would be so strong,
that peace, like a blessed re-
prieve, would steal over her,
and for a little while the heart
ache would be gone.
She'd go to her room, look
at the treasure she had put
aside for the wedding day She
had once been so sure of. The
ivory satin nightie, the two
pairs of super-sheer chiffon
hose, the pale blue Japanese
kimono, embroidered in wis
taria, lined in pomegranate.
Shed look at herself, long
and searchingly, in the long
mirror of her curly-maple van
ity. Her eyes were really love-
ly. Clear, gray-blue, and set
wide apart. Her features
could be better. Shed like to
be perfect, for his sake, so
that he'd look at her, and
look at her, and never get
used to her beauty. But she
wasn't bad. In fact, she was
extremely pretty, though her
nose was a little small, and
her mouth a little large for
real beauty. But when you
have good eyes. and hair and
skin, and a lovely slim figure.
He MUST love her still!
He'd kissed her eyes, and her
hair, and the hollow of her
throat. He'd told her how
beautiful she Washed showed
that he loved her, time and
time again. He COULDN'T
have stopped.
She told herself that, over
and over, even while she strug-
gled to forget. Even while
she bought Sacramento papers,
tortured herself looking for
items about Miss Vesta Grain
ger, fiancee of James Todd, jr.
But he didn't write and he
didn't come, and in spite of
the hope that never quite died,
she began to know that he
never would.
Nor could she nurse her
sorrow in decent peace. Sam