The Wilmington morning star., 1940-07-08
SYNOP.IS

BENJAMIN MERRIFIELD, aged
capitalist, hires
GAYLE DIXON to make love to
his grandson,
JEREMY TUCKER, a shy student
of archaeology.
YESTERDAY: Mr.. Merriheld
asks the young people to arrange
a large party for Jeremy's bene-
fit.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Now it is true that newspaper
folk are somewhat peculiar, and
so can have their ears to the
ground even while walking on it.
That Mrs. Molly Van Orsdale
should have heard Immediately,
therefore, of the Merrifield party
was merely a journalistic miracle;
Mrs. Molly was society editor OF
The Evening Gazette.
In the first place, it was prime
society news that anything-a n y
sort of party whatsoever-should
be given in The Oaks, Merrifield
mansion. Nothing had happened
there in so many years that not
even Mrs. Molly could remember
when, and Mrs. Molly had been
around for a long time. The Oaks
was simple a monumental Show
place, a magnificent estate to point
out to your relatives who came to
the city from some distant home,
and wanted to e your million
aires row. Therefore, Mrs. Molly
plain Molly if you were I'm with
people there-trotted right in to
the office of the publisher himself.
Ed" she stood on no ceremony
with her boss, whatever is hap
pening out at Merriield's? The old
mans? 1 hear rumors of a party!'
The publisher dropped more i'm
portant work to give attention.
II know nothing, Molly. But for
gosh sakes get on it. Let me know
at once, eh?"
She did what any intelligent re-
porter will do-went direct to the
main source of information, via
telephone.
Il am very sorry, Mrs. Orsdale,'
old Mr.. Mortified said, but l can
not tell you about it. You will have
to ask my social secretary"
Your social se- All. yes. Yes,
indeed! I'm. And" Mrs. Molly
had swallowed. A social secretary
at The Oaks!
She is Miss Gayle Dixon, a
charming person, madam. Unfor-
tunately, she is out at the mo-
ment. Shall I have her call?"
by all means! No wait, Mr..
Merri6eld. I'll come out"
She would have chartered a taxi
cab at once for that mission. but
cabs sometimes are leisurely. Mrs
Molly took the city editors car,
drove it illegally fast. She not only
wanted to get to this Miss Dixon
Immediately for her own interests,
she also wanted to scoop The
Herald, The Press and The Chron-
icle-Post.
She found Gayle without diff
Guilty this time, and charmed that
young lady into answering all her
questions. Nor was it a difficult
interview. When it was done, Mrs.
Molly grasped Gayle's hand and
said quite sincerely, Honey, you
are a darling person. I hope we
may become good friends"
Twenty-four hours later, the vari-
Gus social sets of the city had but
one topic of conversation; The
Oaks, venerable and famous man.
sion in Montrose Manor, would be
re-opened next Tuesday.
That significant news was ex-
tremely important to the wealthy
playfolk of the community. In the
cocktail lounges, in the g e
clubs, on the badminton and tennis
courts and even on the golf greens
and polo fields, men and women
paused to talk about it. It was no
secret that old Ben Merrifield
owned half of that distant state,
Arizona, and could buy the other
half if he wanted it. He was known
as an eccentric philantropist, like
ly to blow in a fabulous sum on
any kind of a dinner dance.
"They say it's to be informal"
somebody remarked. "Extraordi-
nary!"
"They say it will be elaborate
go. a new Miss Dixon re-
secorating the never been in