The Wilmington morning star., 1947-06-09
CHAPTER ~THIRTY-FIVE

her to see. And Diane, watching
her hands moving over the fine
woco, knew what she was think
ing, conceded her rig II to it. She
opened a box of Bills baby clothes
which she had saved. Among the
garments was a christening robe.
We think it would be nice if this
baby wore i'll" And Diane added
for her, civilian Beresford Ar
den, the fifteenth or Something
Yielding, she was aware; shar-
ing, over her instructive unwilling
ness, what she had wanted tc keep
hers and Bills. BIT her reward
was Bills approval, unspcken, but
no less apparent, and The truce
in her own heart with it's warring.
Until nj evening in January,
when Bill came home and opened
a newspaper and pointed to a col.
lumn in it. He was greatly excit-
ed. "Read this, Di! Or have you
read it? About Stephen Fearon.
He's the big cotton goods manu-
eacturer. And he's dead. 1t gives
his heirs, nephews and nieces,
and look here"-his finger touch
ed a line. "Rufus Kent, columnist
on a Grandharbor newspaper.
What do you make out of that?
What's Rufus idea of passing of
thoss people in Massachusetts as
his relatives? He's crazy!"
"He didn't like his uncle. He de-
spised him. He ran away when he
was a boy. He didn't want to take
anything from him."
"'Well, he's got it now" Bill sale
with a laugh. "And nov Pages
father and mother will look or
him differently"
because he has money!
DANES tone was dangerously low.
"Well, that'll help, but more
that he has good connections
"But if he won't own them-or
take the money-he won't,
know!"
"say, Di. you sound as crazy
as he is! Why IN earth wouldn't
hep"
He'd be giving up something
in himself - something wortt
much more"
She saw Bill stiffen. He sale
with a steely quiet: "You seem te
care a great deal about wha'
Rufus does! Are you sure yor
wouldn't be pleased if Page threw
him over? He'd be entirely Al
your command then. Perhaps
there was some truth in what Mrs
Winston was trying to tell met
Diane drewa her guards to her
Her face gave no sign that her
heart was shaking with anger ano
a sense of injustice. Bill was no
asking her if there was truth n it;
he was jumping to that con
clusion.
Dinners ready" she sale
evenly, and turned toward the
kitchen.
During the next few days Rufus
was more in DANES mind thar
what Bill had said.
She found the newspaper anc
read again the notice of Stepher
Fearon's death. 1t lauded him as 6
philanthrcpist as well as a great
industrialist. Pages father anc
mother would like that, she
thought. They'd like the sound Of
Contessa Di Cacchioni's name,
Stephen Fearon had reared these
nephews and nieces, who were MS
heirs, the article said.
1t carried a picture OF him,
Studying it, Diane had to admit
that it was a strong face. Perhaps
only Rufus was aware o. where
his uncle's weakness lay.
OF course everyone would say:
| as Bill had, that Rufus was crazy
to disown such connections on &C
count of something which hao
happened when he was fourier
years old. A man now, with a
mans experience, he must see
that he'd let his ;naginatloD dis
tort that particular situation. over
dramatic it. Maybe he had, Di'
ane conceded, but even SO some
thing fine had sprung to growth
in him then, that made him what
he was now and with her whole
heart she wanted him to stane
true to it.
But she was anxious. It was
maddening not to know what was
happening. Rufus might be II
need of the encouragement she
| could give him perhaps, only
she! More thansonce she went te
the telephone 10 call him, Their
hesitated, held by a convention
that no one, no one should intrude
in this. 1t was Rufus decision to
make.
Bill had not referred to It again.
Through dinner that evening there
had been some restraint in his
manner toward Diane. but before
the evening was over he had re-
covered his usual equanlmity.
They had played bridge with a
young couple who lived in the
apartment across the hall. Diane
had suggested inviting them in
and Bill had agreed to it with
an alacrity that might have be,
trayed he was IS eager as she
to avoid an evening alone except
that Diane was rot letting herself
remember the earlier unpleasant
ness. He liked to play bridge; he
had made a grand slam, doubled
and redoUhled. and he had talked
Of that after their guests had
gone.
She could not call Page. She
could not approach Page with any
claim to her confidence. as once
she had; the few times she had
seen Page in these last months,
once at a tea which Allithea Mat
thewson had given in the Christ
mas holidays, again in Belder's,
and in Guiseppi's n day, where