Henderson daily dispatch. (Henderson, N.C.) 1914-1995, 1936-08-10

mand Of the alarm clock, but slept
themselves out, breakfasted in a
leisurely fashion, and amid much
laughter and chatter busted them
selves with laundering indies,
with fussing over their hair and
nails, Strengthening dresser draw
ers, and doing the odd-and-sundry
tasks that accumulate for girls
VINO work six days a week.
The hours sped by pleasantly.
until Jean was called to the tele-
phone. Then watched her ROOM
mate scramble about to be ready
IN a half hour for an unexpected
date, and stood at the window as
the nice looking young garage
manager hurried Jean into a gray
sedan, slicked up for it's Sunday
jaunt.
Gay turned from the window, a
little wistful. How about herself.
alone, on hot Sunday afternoon,
nowhere to go, and no one to go
with!
Why didn't some of those Pont-
chartrain club men, who, since the
wilson dinner had been more or
less interested in her, call her UP
and invite her places!
She began to buff her carefully
polished nails.
Not Breck. She knew he had
driven, with Peggy Pennell and
Wayne and Mrs. Larrimore, to the
Fennel lodge in northern Mich
lgan, for a weekend party.
Not Doctor Wilson, either. Gays
eyes softened in "Reminiscences.
Nice Doctor Wilson! He was still
at Tryon, at his wife's bedside.
deeply worried over the gravity of
her heart attack. Gay had had a
friendly note from him.
It couldn't be Christian Scott.
She had seen him several times at
the club since that night at Rose
Heath, but had not been out with
him again. He had assured he1
over the telephone, that he was
anticipating the pleasure Of an
evening spent in her company.
with considerable impatience: but
for the time being was wholly oc.
cupied with the numerous pre-.
nuptial social affairs of his last-to-
be-married daughter, Elizabeth.
Gay jumped to her feet. The
flow of life within her was too
strong, too rapid, for this inaction.
She couldn't sit quietly at home
and do nothing! She'd battle and
hop into last years white silk and
invite herself to a bus ride. out
Crosse Pointe way.
In IS minutes she was dressed
and ready-all in white from her
cheap but chic beret to her smart
white slippers. Her hand was on
the front door knob when she
heard the ring Of the telephone in
the rear of the downstairs hall.
She'd better answer. Everyone
was out. Even the caretaker's
family had added their f1ivver to
the endless Sunday procession Of
cars. $S
The call wouldn't be for her, Cav
thought. But it was. She recoe.
nized, Tim Keenan's deep voice inn
mediately.
"A ride, Mr.. Keenan,? How too
heavenly! I'd love it, and I'm
ready, now. You see, I was Just
starting out for bus ride all by
myself. Yes, TIL wait right here in
the vestibule"
Gay was powdering her nose.
and at the same time keeping
watch for an aristocrat of a limou,
sine like Christian Scott's-Jean
had told her that Tim had made
his millions in the manufacture Of
expensive car bodies-when stimuli
taneously she saw a long black
roadster slide to a stop at the curb
before the apartment house. and
heard its siren note.
II look like a kitchen Cinderella
in this gorgeousness," Gay chat
tered trif1e breathlessly, as she
sank into the comfortable depths
Of the seat beside Mr.. keenan,.
you'll Go very nicely His
adr1irirg eyes tod Gay that though
she had en- last summers inexpen-
sive dress, she had other things to
make up for it.
Ito BE CGnf;nEa1l