Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1938-02-03
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Banners
o1 Emile
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e Emile Loring.
WNU Service.
e Emile Loring.
WNU Service.
CHAPTER XVI-Continued

Observation-Disclosures
CHAPTER XVI-Continued
ID
"I'm-I'm modeling-for the last
time"
Cant you get out of it?"
"No."
"That's decisive. I have a pres
ent for you, but this doesn't seem to
be just the moment to produce it..
You seem to dislike me more than
ever. I thought we might play
round together. If you can't, or
went, I'll join bunch of friends
who wanted to date me up for some
sort of fete this afternoon. They
were all excited about a plan to
surprise somebody about something.
I didn't listen; was anxious to To-
cate you. I'll see you tonight be-
fore I leave, Brooke"
The sky was like huge sapphire;
the sunshine was rose-tinted; the
ocean tumbling mass of emeralds.
A fragrant breeze, mere sugges-
ton of breeze, rufaed the bright
orange fame-vine on top of the high
Spanish wall which enclosed three
sides of a garden open to the sea,
a garden filled with tables set in
gay borders which were filny
frocks; there were faces above the
tables, faces under large hats and
mems faces with no hats at all.
From a Moorish gallery drifted
male voices singing to the accom-
paninlent of guitars as Brooke
stepped from the automobile which
had brought her to the charity fete.
Carstons Inc. had staged the we'd
ding party of the style show with
meticulous attention to detail, even
to sleek shining cars to bring the
bride and bridesmaids to the ornate
grilles which were the garden gates.
Reporters were there and camera
men, hordes of them, all the frills
and appurtenances of wedding ex-
cept groom and ushers.
Madame Celeste, chic in black
and pearls, was flushed with excite
ment under her makeup; her
French accent was noticeable fo-
its absence as she whispered last
instructions:
''Wait until the singers stop, girls.
The moment the orchestra strikes
the first note of the wedding march,
start. Don't get flustered. Don't
get out of step. You're all lovely"
A violin sighed soft note. Others
joined until strings and harps and
wocdwinds swelled into the wedding
march from Lohengrin.
Bridesmaids, their lips scarlet,
their eyes shining between dark
mascaraed lashes, passed between
the iron grilles and moved slowly
up the ribbon-outlined aisle, drag
ging their gold slippers little in
time to the rhythm of the music,
and the swish of their taffeta slips.
The first two were dressed in bill
lowy rose-orange net; behind them
at short distance came two more
in lighter tint, then two in soft
yellow, then fourth pair in ivory,
and then the bride in snowy satin so
soft in texture that it trailed in raw
ishing folds. Slowly she came with
head slightly bent, eyes presum-
ably on the mass of white Trans
vaal daisies and stevia she carried.
Brooke felt the surge of motion
as everyone stood up-a tribute to
Madame Celeste's stagecraft-the
wedding procession was so perfect
that habit had brought the audi
ence to it's feet. She must keep her
attention on the girls in front-why
had Mark Trent come to Palm
Beach-this heavenly music made
one all trembly inside-would she
never reach the spot where she was
to turn-three stairs to mount be-
fore she reached it.
Something pulled at her eyes like
a magnet. She looked up. A group
of men was standing near the steps.
All wore white suits with blue
shirts and identical ties of Java
print; each one had a boutonniere
of deep blue bachelor buttons in
the lapel of his coat; all were smil-
ing broadly, she could feel their re-
pressed excitement. Mark Trent
was with them. His face went col
orless with surprise as his eyes met
hers in the instant before she bent
her head again. Why was he here?
Was this the fete bunch of friends
had urged him to attend?
The stairs. Onel Two! Three!
She was up. The bridesmaids had
deployed to face the audience-she
had almost thought congregation
the orange-color frocks were at
the ends of the semi-circle, the tints
paled till they came to the snow
white bride. Her veil had been
thrown back. Time for her to turn.
The music swelled into a paean OF
triumph. 1t looked miles to the iron
grilles beyond which stood Madame
Celeste. She was safely down the
steps! She must smile.
Ready"
She heard the whispered word,
cox,, @l,o ~, ~, x,,I,;fo ,r,b0 IoJ Loo,,