The Waterbury Democrat., 1936-06-05
FOLLY and FAREWELL :::!:: [::!::::: E:
By Mstis eliza5 Q wsshA s~A6

flowers were q charming daily re- hinder that she resented deeply. His insistent invitations, which she refused, putting him of gracefully, were unsetting to her peace of mind. She had put herself in his debt to help Dix, aHfd she knew she could not drop him abruptly. And yet she knew that she must do 1t one day soon.
 And there was Dix. It didn't occur to her that when she was too tired to see him, he could ind other hings to do. Dix was neces- sary to her, and she must be to him. She found time to give him that she needed for her own rest. She found an accompanist and Q dramatic teacher for him He was scrupulous about not permitting her to pay for either, but he used her apartment for his lessons and her company for his audience.
 There was also Pete. Pete Gar diner did not ask for her time. He didn't call her frequently on the telephone and he never sent her flowers, But, none the less, he did occupy much of her thinking time. Linda was annoyed with Pete. She couldn't have told herselH why. Running into him at ofacial func- tons, seeing him with Q girl on his arm, finding him the center of interest at 8 table not far from her own, she was urlreason" ably resentful of him. He never did anything to cause her to feel that way. His manner was always courteous politely strange.
 She might have puzzled over It long, and arrived at a right and quick conclusion, left to herself, but one bright day he telephoned her and asked her if shed "like to, picnic"
 Linda would like very much to picnic. It was Q form of entertain ment so simple, 1t hadn't reached any peak of popularity in her trn- mediate set in Hollywood.
 It was simple, natural and sorne- thing she had missed and not known 1t. Tn Pete's car, they rode out to the seashore. Not the smart seashore, but Q deserted stretch Of sand where they lay in the sun, drihbling sand between airnless in" gers, and talking about Newtown and never of picture making. Linda felt nostalgia for the home she had left two years before. Unexplicably, she longed for all things as they had been then, and caught herself up remembering that now she had Dix, which made Up for everything There were silences between Linda and Pete, and In them Lindas thoughts touched on the changes between them. She was glad Pete had stopped caring for her. She wanted to tell him, but the impulse was born too late.
 Flicking his cigaret into the ar and watching the arch 1t described, Pete said, Linda, I suppose you know I'm still in love with you?" It wasn't really a question.
 Linda couldn't help signing. I'm sorry, Pete. didn't know. It sim. ply won't work. You must always have known I cared for someone else. He l . when l was engaged to you, 1t was only because you were good to me. did care for you but not that way. Dix hadn't found himself but he has now, and he loves me. I love him. Then, too, Pete, think | you're having a sentimental hang over. don't believe you feel the same way about me after all this time."
 I'm Q better judge of my own feelings, Linda. I do care for you the same way, but I can't treat you the same way. came out here expecting to find you grown up, hoping the values you must recog- nize within you would have devel- oped. You think you're Q bright girl, a woman of the world. But, on the verge of making the miS- take of your life, you close your eyes to the things you must know to be true"
 The mistake of my life2" Linda raised her eyebrows very slightly. You mean not accepting your proposal?"
 (TO Be Contlnued)