The Wilmington morning star., 1940-01-19
CHAPTER TEN

Gertrude, Comtesse de Ligne,
maintained a nine-room apartment
in New York and a small house in
Paris, both rather handsome men
ages. But it was Willoughby hall
old and white and gracious as the
beauty of the belle who had come 10
it as a bride, nesting in a Maryland
valley twenty miles from Baltimore
that was home to Gertrude's daush
ter, Fabienne Seymour.
It had not always been known as
Willoughby hall. 1t was Carl oey'
ro11r who had left it to Mark and
edna Willoughby - having nothing
else to leave to his brother and SIS
ter-in-law who had been father and
mother to his children after his al
vorce from Gertrude Willoughby'
who had cared less for her children
than the glitter of European socl-
ETY.. It was his one gesture to leave
the security of a home to his chill
dren.
Richard Seymour had built it for
his bride, lovely, spirited Fablenne
de Courcy. who came from France
to attend a ball in New Orleans and
returned to her native land.
They had met and married a de-
cade before the Civil war. None OF
her dark beauty, but all of her lov
for the hall, and her spirit, she had
left to find its clear trace in her
granddaughter.
The room that had been Fa-
bienne's since she could remember
had been the bridal chamber Of that
first F%abienne. It's walls were hung
with the now-faded hand-woven
silk that had been brought o
France. The painted fire screen, the
long oval mirror, the flowered car
pet and the spindle-legged chairs
that once had served Fabienne de
Courcy. were tributes to her grace
and femininity.
Lying on the big bed with its
headboard of tufted satin, Fablenne
Seymour, on that first morning OF
her return to Maryland, let her eyes
sweep lazily over the o and was
aware for the first time that it no
longer seemed IKE HER room. 1t
was the room of another woman-a
belle. But was not she, Fabienne,
a belle?
She arrived at dinner time the
evening before and already the in
vitations had come by telephone and
messenger. Eyes, yes" she had said
to them all. The invitation to the
Hunt ball the Bachelors dance, the
Hal1owell and Jackson parties. yes,
Id love to-" To ride with Tom
and Jare and Nicky; to tea with
young masters at the school that
Uncle Mark headed.
She was, and she intended to con-
tinue, being a belle. Those three
months of service in New York
would mean nothing to her. No
more than they should mean. Shed
done it merely to prove to herself
that she could. She'd done it and
row she would so back to being
what she really was. True, she was
no longer a rich girl who could send
her bills to her great grandfather
But she had enough money to live
pleasantly. She'd always have this
home with Uncle Mark and Aunt
Edna. Gertrude would finance a
trip to Europe if she wanted one
And when she wished to marry
there was Nicky waiting for her
And days of grace and comfortable
living.
There was a silver cord thai
hung beside the tufted satin bed. A
touch of her hand would summo
old Molly. But the habit formed
during three months of routine
eating breakfast when she was
dressed, with an eye on the clock
was upon her; she threw back tn
soft blankets and ran into her bath
She brushed her silky hair, pow
dered her nose and hastily applied
q scarlet lipstick. Haste. She hat
no need of haste now. 1t was no
yet nine o'clock, and she had moth
ing to do on schedule for the res
of her life. 1t was a strange feelin;
that she experienced, being used b,
now to crowded hours.
Her trunks were not unpacke6
Molly would do that later. Sh
hunted about in the closet an,
found an old pair of jodhpurs, boot
and a riding jacket. There wer
some silk shirts in the highbo,
drawer.
She dressed hastily. feeling
longing to ride, feeling her frs
sense of anticipation in weeks.
Mark and Edna were b%reakfastini
before the fire in the library.
"Well" They greeted her wit
smiles, surprised.
"Herlo, darling" she said. IAN
breakfast for me?"
"We thought you'd have it i
bed, DEAR" Aunt Edna said. "Yo
look as if you needed a rest
Hector! Breakfast for Miss F.
bienne."
Hector brought in a tray G
dishes-hot breads and eggs scram
bled with chicken livers, a steam
ing pot Of bubbling chocolate.
He put a fresh log on the fire an
dropped a cushion in back Of F.
y bienne, who had drawn a big chat
up to the table.
In the hall, the grandfather's cloc
chimed ten musical bells. Fabienn
slipped her chocolate and a row
little bright-eyed faces came befol