The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-01-26
CHAPTER XIX

The anniversary dinner was held in the broWn-Stone mansion on Fifth avenue. It was a landmark pointed out to all sightseers visiting New York. It was more like an in Stitution than a home and when Connie was not there it was empty except for the many servants.
 Upon seeing it first Bret had re- marked that it was very grand. That had become a set phrase with him. But it never was said with enthusiasm, certainly never with anything approaching awe.
 Tonight, seated at one end of the long lace-covered table, lighted with tall candles, decked with a profusion of flowers and glistening glass and shining silver. Bret thought again that this scene was very grand. The women were all beautiful in their low-necked even- ing gowns, representing the latest fancy of the PariSian dress makers; the men all handsome in their dark coats, white fronts and tie. Every one seemed exceedingly gay. There was a great deal of chatter and laughter most of it inconsequential. The noisier such a party became, the more successful it was apparent ly. Tonight the noise hurt Bret'S head. Or maybe it was because he had had few too many Scotch and sodas before dinner with the gentlemen.
 He had not meant to have too many. He did not approve of the amount of Scotch and soda, and other beverages, his wife'S guests consumed. But he had been so bored. And so hurt, because Of that brief scene upstairs in Con- nie's boudoir.
 Connie easily was the loveliest woman present. She had made quite success not only with her parties, but as a social leader in her smart crowd, now that she was a young matron. She seemed to enjoy this success, if one could judge from her bright eyes, her 1uahed cheeks, the way she took tho center of the stage.
 Rodney Brandon sat at her right. it was Rodney from whom Connie had run away to become Katie Blyn. But he had forgiven her for that. He had explained that the papers had discovered that that girl was not Connie. He had granted them an interview, only because he had hoped the story might bring iler back to him. She had explain ed that she had had to run away, though she had been sorry to have hurt him so.
 Rodney and Bret liked each other as we'll as could be expected. They could not have been more exact opposites. Owen Connie was struck by the contrast between them, Rodney so fair so polished, so perfect; Bret dark and serious and natural She wished that they would become real friends, her huS- band and her old sweetheart. She was happy tonight, having them both, one by her side, the other at the far end of the table, both, some how, experimenting her and be- longing to her.
 For Rodney had told her, too that he still cared for her; that he always would care.
 You may have tilted me, prac- tically at the altar, my dear" he had said, his eyes mocking, yet with his slow smile; you may have married someone else, but l still remain your patient, humble henchman, as always
 Connie had told him not to be ridiculous. Yet, she felt that that was as it should be. It was per fectly natural that Rodney should remain her admirer. The women in her world had admirers, as matter of course. It would be rather dull to have no man inter- ested in you and paying you con- pliments, except your husband. Besides, Bret was not good at compliments. Lately he did not attempt even to make them. Though she noticed, glancing down the long table to make sure that everything was going all right, that her husband appeared to be paying some attention to Veronica Whitney, who sat on his right.
 Veronica, in fact, caught her hostesS's glance and waved a gay salute. Your husband is the most amusing man I've ever met!" she called. Hes simply divine, reallyw
 Every man was divine" i'll Veronica's estimation. She was fluffy and procovatve and ap-