Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1935-07-26

fair. Her genuine and despairing
tears were as lovely as dew drops on
a rose petal and wrung Peters an
guished heart.
Don't take on so, dear. I've wealth
cred lots worse crisis than this" he
lied bravely. AS he gathered her
warm, yielding body spasmodically to
him the pressure seemed to make him
forget that for the sake of his much
younger brother and helpless bunkie
he must find twenty thousand dollars
that apparently could not be found.
For a moment Cara lay passive, and
Peter, who knew her reactions better
than she suspected, guessed what she
was thinking deeply. A sudden poig-
nant fear stabbed his consciousness.
She-she wasn't going to? He
looked down panic-stricken on the top
of the small, black head, then he flush
ed guiltily at the thought which had
chilled him. OF course, she'd stick, he
was a beastly cad to ever think she
wouldn't.
Cara, having finished her thinking,
Struggled like an eager, affectionate
kitten closer to the broad scarlet COW
cred chest among a delicate aura of
Mutt de Noel. "Sure now" she smiled
ashamedly, what a silly little goose
yo' little Cara is to carry on like that;
as though her big honey boy wasn't
able to look out for himself and her,
too"
She raised an exquisite face, dewed
with tears, a queer little expression
trembling at the corners of her small,
perfect mouth. He sensed that she
was looking at him with unusual in
tentness, then her eyelids fluttered
shut. "Oh, Peter, it's going to be aw-
full hard, dear, but-but I'll wait for
yo.'
Peter felt himself soaring upward
on an overwhelming tidal wave of min
gled relief and exultation, conscious
that Cara was still looking up at him
sadly, almost wistfully.
"You dear, unslfish angel" he chok-
ed, quite overcome. If I worked a
a thousand years I'd still not be half
good enough for you. I'll win-1 don't
know how, but 1 will! I will"
81 know it," said she confidently,
"like the little boy said, 4 don't think
there amt nothin' my Daddy can't do,
and now We'll go to the Dance" de-
manded Cara impulsively, brushing his
lips with hers.
Peter blinked and smiled, little
taken aback. "Why-why, yes, dear.
If you want to, only I thought"
A slender white finger sealed his
wide and generous mouth. "Shush-
Honey, yo've done heap much think
in for today. Just yo' stay here while
I run upstairs and put few specks
of powder on the wet spots"
Tall and bronzed, Peter watched the
1.-the figure floating upwards like a
white vision of lovliness, her heels
twinkling in that way which always
made his heart catch. Fascinated,
momentarily soothed, he watched the
gentle sway of her shoulders, the
rhythmic sway Of her skirts and tn
straightness of he rrounded back.
When she had vanished the engineer
sighed and relaxed. 1t had been a
pretty terrible quarter of an hour, he
decided, and turned to straighten his
tie before a furnished gold mirror
above the carved marble mantel piece.
When Peter and Cara reached the
edge of the dance floor at the Stag
horn Hunt Club, they paused, gazing
on the multicolored panorama present
ed by the aristocrats of three large
cities as they whirled back and forth
ever chatting, laughing; here were
men with broad shoulders and narrow
waists, and lovely gracious girls whose
eyes seemed to glow like diamonds. 1t
was a rare and brilliant assembly.
Not for nothing had Philadelphia,
Washington and Baltimore, nearest of
the three great cities, contributed their
premier huntsmen and huntswomen.
At the sheer blaze of color, the even
ing dresses and hunting liveries, Cara
stood with hands delightedly clasped,
while Peter pointed out liveries IA
nous wherever Reynard is hunted.
There was the famous Lincoln Green
of the Mowbray Hunt, just outside of
Washington; yonder the famed claret
of Hanging Rock, that world-famed
hunt club which claims the cream of
Philadelphia's huntsmen, and across
the ballroom flashed the dark blue of
the Tauton Hounds, famed of Virgin
ian history. Of course, as the engi-