Evening Star Newspaper, August 27, 1935, Page 25

Headsize Yeur Problem? i 4 See These Youthful Styles in FUR FELTS s 53 0 felt draped to cover a large headsize, In black, brown, and navy. but smart, youth- ful styles to please the most exacting. Headsizes to 25. . Air Cooled Second Floor. The Avenve"=Tth, #h ane O Ba Eor Tt b Day Trip Recommends— THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, TUESDAY, AUGUST 27, 1935. CHAPTER XXIV. HEN Betsy came at 4 o'clock and took her place beside Mrs. Stockton in front of the poinsettias, chrysan- themums and ferns in the drawing room there were signs of suffering in her eyes. Though she was spent and shaken, she felt as if she were in a dream. John Storm’s red roses | flowing gracefully over her arm, Bar- bara Stone’s glamorous white satin gown clinging as close as a wind- wrapped flag to her hips and billowing out like an inverted champagne glass around her silver sandals. The music was playing in the ball room. But- lers were standing in readiness. Reg- inald at the front door, his chin Very high in the air; others in the dining room and at the punch bowl in the library. Second-floor maids were waiting patiently beside long, empty racks with coat hangers and coat checks on tables nearby. The whole house on tiptoe for the arrival of the first guests. And Mrs. Stockton in transparent black velvet with long sleeves and a graceful train, stood very regal and lovely, her gray hair & sculptured ripple about her creamy face, her blue eyes hiding the hurt that the day had brought her. She didn't talk. Only once she from trembling: “I don’t see how Libby could have done this, Betsy. Is it my perspective? Am I wrong about this young generation to hope that fairness isn't unknown?” her voice trailing off unhappily. The guests began to come. By 5:30 the announcer had said some 300 names and the great halls and rooms of the mansion were ring- | ing with laughing, chattering voices. | There was the tinkle of champagne glasses, too, and the gentle scrape of dancing feet in the ball room, | climbing the stairs, descending them, fluttering across the marble halls. And ann) Avenus"=Tth, $th and D Sts. fatigue-proof Tires AT BARGAIN PRICES! —Built to take it on the toughest roads under the most strenuous driving. 4.40x21 $5.64 Note the Deep, Thick Tread. Every Tire Guaranteed 12 Months Against all Road Hazards. You Can Buy Them on Your Charge Account. Try Our Budget Plan, Which Includes Small Carrying Charge. All other sizes equally low All Tires Mounted Without Charge. The Well-Known Johnson's Auto Polishes Cleaner and Polish, regularly 69c Johnson’s Wax, regularly___ 39c¢ Touch-up Enamel, regularly 40c Total Value.______$1.48 KELLY-SPRINGFIELD De Luxe Top DRESSING —Pint can and brush for All Three for SPARK PLUGS —All first line plugs, for any make car, 48 - Simoniz Wax or Kleener EXIDE wueniTs AN said, biting her lips to keep them | LOVELY LITTLE FOOL | A Sflory of W'as/u'anons" Socr By PHYLLIS MOORE GALLAGHER al Set o N A K outside the mechanical song of pow- erful limousines, taxis and cars making shining links under the porte- cochere, Betsy could catch glimpses through the long windows of the gray Wintry afternoon, the congestion of trafic as cars poured out of the driveway into the street. Policemen were waving frantically, calling through their cold hands to route automobiles away from the Stockton mansion, down Twenty-third street past the Turkish Embassy into Q. And here in this great drawing room were cabinet mémbers and their wives, Ambassadors and Ministers, high-ranking officers of the Army and Navy, officials in the administrative branches of the Government, and the old “cave dweller” set who were being gracious and charming to the Cap- ital's newcomers, despite the gossip that their small, ultra-exclusive set re- sented the constant influx of strangers into the city. A brilliant group that only Washington could assemble. Betsy shook hands until her fingers ached. She laughed and smiled and said the pleasant, expected little things that Mrs. Lancaster had taught her. During the brief lulls when no guests came down the receiving line she watched with wide eyes the panoply of color before her, listened to the fragments of conversation that floated through the spacious room. At last John Storm came through the receiving line and stood holding Betsy’s hand. The guests were crowd- ing impatiently behind him, but he just stood there looking down at her. A handsome young man, son of wealth, son of an old and important family, with that superb indifference that goes with money and an aristo- “By _the gods, you're carrying my roses, Betsy! Could that mean . . ., ?” Betsy blushed. She didn't know announcing our en- what he meant. gagement, you know,” he went on quickly, seeing that she was puszzled. “Or else you'd be carrying another mhan’s flowers or one of those little old-fashioned bouquets done up in 1ace paper that proclaim to the world that your affections are still intact!” “Oh-h,” she said. She hadn't heard the significance of & debu- tante's bouquet. That was one of the things Mrs. Lancaster had failed to teach her. Then she said, seri- ously, “John, I may not be engaged to you, but I couldn’t have missed you more if I had been. I missed you like the very dickens.” She saw his eyes brighten, she heard him say softly, “Betsy—" And then a Supreme Court justice had her hand and John was being urged gently out-of the receiving line. He strode across the room and leaned against the grand piano, not taking his eyes from Betsy. He watched her tilting her face upward, her bright, flashing eyes, the grace of her small body as she leaned a little forward in speaking to Justice Vennerton, who was quite deaf. He sighed, feeling that nothing had ever been painted so lovely as she was at this moment. Her honey-colored hair back from her brow, into a calculated froth behind her ears, his roses in her arms, the white dress shimmering like snow in the moonlight. John remembered suddenly that the Washington papers he had picked up in Philadelphia when the plane had landed there for an hour's stop had announced the elopement of Marshall and Libby. He searched Betsy's face now for traces of hurt, disillusion- ment. She was smiling, her eyes dancing like blue stars, and he told himself that he had been a fool to think that Van Devanter had any | claim on her heart. But in the next moment, when | Libby and Marshall came into the i room and Betsy's face drained as white as an aloe blossom and her eyes seemed to retreat behind a forced brilliance, he frowned and carried his doubts and worries into the library, where potent cocktails were being served. Libby's eyes were mocking and amused, as green as her gown and the jade balls that dripped from her ears. Her stare was making fun of her, Betsy saw. With her heart throb- bing and her blue eyes keeping their bright, social attentiveness unim- paired, she waited for Libby to say something catty, something for every one around to hear and laugh at and turn into gossip. But Libby didn't. She sald a little affectedly: “Marshall, darling, your protege is certainly looking very stunning today in white satin and emmine, isn't she?” An acrid tone behind the ermine— but nothing more. And when Marshall said, “Yes— yes, of course——" rather awkwardly, coloring to the roots of his dark hair, she slipped her fingertips possessively through his arm and took him and her flashing personality across the room to Senor Planiol. The Minister greeted them with a beaming smile and a clicking of heels. In a daze Betsy heard him saying, “Bride and groom! Well, well, well . . .I" She closed her eyes for a second, then listened to the wild pounding of her heart. She had a curious smothered feeling, as if an airless void had closed in about her. “I won't make a fool of myself,” she thought in panic. “I won't!” When Mrs. Stockton telephoned and said she was going fo present me despite the newspaper stories, I made up my mind that I would go through with this just as if nothing had hap- pened, even if it kiJled me! And I will!” There were more guests streaming down the line, looking at Betsy, smiling, making mental pictures of her loveliness to carry to those who had not been fortunate enough to be invited. And with an air of belong- ing to them, John Storm was intro- ducing her mother and father around, saying, “I want you to meet some good friends of mine—Mrs. Seymour, may I present—" At 6:30 Mrs. Stockton turned a little wearily to Betsy and said: *“I guess we can break up the line now, dear, Run along and dance. Enjoy your- self.” Betsy had hardly stepped away from the bank of flowers when she saw Marshall coming toward her. When he reached her he said: “How about dancing, angel? May I be the first?” For a second Betsy thought that she could not endure it. Her heart stood still, then raced. Marshall, married to Libby, daring openly to call her “angel,” asking her to dance! It was too fantastic! It was a night- mare! She couldn’t dance with Mar- sholl. Never! Never! She couldn't feel his arms around her without crying. Oh, she couldn't—sbe couldn’t! But she collected herself. She thought: “Smile, you fool, smile!” The smile quivered on her scarlet lips. A winged smile. She said: certainly, Mr. Van Devanter. How could I refuse a bridegroom!” and went off with him toward the ball room. John Storm, across the room, hearing her light tones, seeing the laughter in her eyes, something ar- resting and a little indifferent in her manner, decided again that he had | been dead wrong in thinking that she cared for Marshall. It was a waltz. A beautiful waltz, 85 smooth as the flowing of the Danube, as sweet as & blackbird’s song in Spring—rising and falling “Why, | B—7 like satin ribbons waving in a breeze. Marshall held Betsy close—too close— his dark head pressed to her golden one, his breath on her ear. She could feel his heart beating fast against her body, his arm trembling around her waist and that surge of emotion whenever they were together sweep- ing through them. But now—it was a hideous emotion to Betsy. She hated herself for feeling like this; she hated Marshall even while she | loved him. He was Libby’s husband— he had no right to hold her like this, to make her feel like this—he had no right. (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) MORGENTHAU LOSES $20 Secretary of Treasury Viectim of Counterfeit Bill Becretary Morgenthau is “out” $20 !as the result of his recent flings at | passing a counterfeit bill. Quite inhocently, he paid for provi- sions at Fishkill, N. 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