The Wilmington morning star., 1947-05-15
e. HAyE9N:AAE255. ~. KIP t!!:jE

1 over to it together. A faint breeze
stirring the canopy OF leaves
| above them. the hum of a mower
on some far green, the swish OF
water from a spray, all added to
a pleasant sense of relaxation.
| Rufus half lay on the ground, MS
head propped on an elbow ms
gaze on the fairways rolling OIL
to the horizon.
you could enjoy all this" ne
said. reflectively, "if you'd earned
i'll" He laughed. half apologetlcal-
". That's a notion of mine, you
see. To have to work for the ptlVl-
leges you get. Leisure, parflcu-
larly."
did you WORK your way
through conege?" Though Page
had implied that.
"Yep. Pushed a vacuum cleaner
and aired dogs, first year. Stayed
evenings with KIDS when their
parents stepped out, typed, second
year. Then l got a job as part
time secretary to an old fellow
who was writing a book on butter
flies. Tutored some"
She wished he would tell her
more Of when he was a little
boy. Perhaps then he'd had to
make his own way. She asked i'm
pulsively: Didn't you have any
family?"
When he hesitated she regretted
letting her curiosity carry her that
far. She did not think he would
answer her. But ne did, after a
moment. with a briet laugh that
deprecated his words. Yes, l had
a family. l still have. A sister
who S living in a castle. l suppose
you'd call it, somewhere outside OF
Milan. The Contessa di Cacchionl,
to give her all she paid for. An
other sister in Boston, holding up
the traditions of her husbands
Back Bay ancestors. A brother
who's a broker in New York
Diane gave a little exclamation
of delight. Such a family must
surely satisfy Pages parents! But
Rufus finished: Il don't know why
I'm telling you of them. l never
speak of them. They don't ap-
prove of me or I of them
He saw on her face the ques-
ton she held back. He laughed
again. There's a skeleton, though
it rattles only tor me. The others
think Uncle Steve's a fine guy.
Ever heard Of Stephen Fearon,
the industrialist? Sixty or so, now.
and in, the pink of health. Quite a
fellow In philanthropic works,
dotes On writing checks into the
grand for community chests He
adopted US, after my father and
mother were killed in an automo'
bile smashup. My brother and my
sisters Tapped it all Up. but
couldn't take it. l revolseo-"
DANES eyes we're wide with in
terest. "You mean even before
college? You were very young to
-
maybe that was why. At four
teen you don't r%ationalize your
Iprejudices away. You see some
thing happened when I was
around fourteen He paused
frowning, went on: I've were liv-
ing on a country place my uncle
had taken outside of Atlanta. The
year before he'd moved the mills
from Massachusetts, down to Geor'
gia because he could get cheaper
labor there. I was coming home
after dark from somewhere
sneaking round through the gar
den to go in by a back door, anc
l saw a woman standing, outside
a window, one of the windows il
the library. close to it, almost hid
den by the thick bushes.
wouldn't have seer her except
that, just as I came along, darn
careful to make no noise myself
she gave a sort of a sob and
heard it. She had a revolver ir
her hand and she kept putting il
up and letting it down. I was
scared out of my wits. l could see
my uncle sitting inside, reading
II wanted to yell to him and ]
couldn't. I simply stood there. par
alyzed, and watched her hard and
the gun go up and down, up and
down. I could see her face in the
light from the window, terribly
thin and white and hard, and then
suddenly it seemed to break up
and 60 soft and frightened and
she stopped lifting the gun.
moved just then and my foot
snapped a twig and she screamed
and my uncle heard her. He
Jumped up and pressed a button
that let hell loose. Bells and the
dogs barking and the servants