Evening Star Newspaper, July 5, 1936, Page 71

* marry him . . Mogazine Section . She’d put on an act for him! But as Dick stood in the doorway, with his boyish grin and glowing eyes, excitement and tenderness swept over her. For a brief instant she forgot she must put on an act. Forgot even the cause of it. Forgot that she was wear- ing a smock. Forgot the pail in the living room . . . But his first words brought her back 'to earth. “Funny, 1 never remember in between times how lovely you are.” She managed to laugh. “It’s the costume,”’ she said flippantly. ““You must see it complete with pail.” She led the way to the living room. “This is my great-uncle, Mr. Treat. Uncle Jasper, Mr. Welton.” And when the two had shaken hands, she chattered on: ‘‘Be careful, Dick. He's *likely to hand you a wet dog or pull a rabbit out of his hat. Look out. Don’t sit on that chair, you might get sciatica. And step over the wet spots; it's our best rug. And by the way, I hope you're not hungry?” *I could eat you in one bite — "’ “Bad manners. Mustn’t bolt your ‘food. Besides, like the dinner, I’'m not . quite done.” “You're high-flavored with sauce, of a sudden, my lass,” said Uncle Jasper. “But to an old man’s taste, a bit more meat on the bones — "' *‘All right, Uncle, I'll cook you bet- ter bones to pick. You and Dick tell tunny stories and sharpen your front teeth whule I bend over the hot stove. Mother and Larry’ll be down in a minute.”’ She picked up the pail and made an elaborate mocking curtsy. “You look like a china shepherdess gone Bolshevik,”" said Dick. “A kitchen shepherdess, rather. Well, now to my muttons.” Back in the kitchen her teeth clicked . together. Thank heaven, there were so many things to do . . . The act was going over. In a self-hurting impulse, she hoped Uncle Jasper would be at his worst. If only Dick weren’t such a dear! But she didn't care. She wouldn’t care! And suddenly a funny thing hap- pened. She didn’t care! It was as if she had turned to putty inside. Nothing mattered. Usually, even when the family were alone, the last little things to do about the dinner excited her — it was rather a trick to get everything ready at the same moment. But to- - night she worked automatically. Now . that nothing mattered, things seemed to take care of themselves. The salad to mix. And those silly service plates, to take them off the table, and set a place for Uncle Jasper . .. And to have the melon on the table when they camein. .. Here was her mother. “What can I do, dear?”” “Nothing. Dinner is about ready.” “Wait a minute or two for Larry. Poor thing. He didn't mean — "’ “Of course not.” “You're a good sport, dear, but everything will be all right.” “Fine.” “Dick and Uncle Jasper are hitting itoff.” Yes, she was made of putty. All the same it was easier to be in the kitchen alone. But she had been alone only a perished — only a ruddy hole in the fog .. .” That was all it was. They never got closer to the spectral ship. It kept its vague and misty dis- “tance all the time, and then quite sud- denly it was not a ship at all. Some slant of the land made a channel for a current of air that cut a queer funnel of clearness through the fog. And through that clear gap they had been looking not at any ship, but a con- figuration of land that, for a brief spell, suggested a ship — nothing but a dis- sant view, a mirage distorted by the fog into a shape to play tricks with an alrcady nervous imagination. “And I could have stood by my oath in court that it was a vessel ahead,” Nagle said, mopping the per- spiration from his face. “An old, clipper-bowed, sail-aided steamer, eh?” John Farne said grimly. THIS WEEK It Never Rains Continved from page nine moment when Uncle Jasper barged in, asking for a drink of water. He really didn’t want a drink; he was just an old busy-body. “You like that lad, young lady?” “Nice boy.” She stopped to look into the oven. **Hm. So that’s how it is.” ““What's how what is?" “Cool as a cucumber, ain’t you? Poker face. eh?” He narrowed his eyes shrewdly, and then burst into his boisterous laugh. “Ye've not got me fooled, my lass.”” For a moment she feared the putty would come un- chinked. But it held. It held even through dinner. Even while Uncle Jasper talked with his mouth full. Even when her mother said, “Our maid defaulted at the last minute.”” Poor mother! Trying to make an impression now! “It didn’t matter,” Ursula said lightly. ‘“‘She was just coming to serve, because of company. I always get thedinners.” “It's a swell dinner,” said Larry. “‘Better than usual. But at that I guess Dad’s having a better one. My father,” Larry turned proudly to Dick, *“is at a banquet. making a speech, about ‘What American Busi- ness Needs,” * i My father's listening to him,” Dick replied, laughing. Uncle Jasper made non-committal noises. Then he began to talk to Dick about business. Dick tried to change the subject, but Uncle Jasper held him to it. Dick didn’t seem to like it; he was uncomfortable. Ursula started to intervene, but caught herself. Good. Nothing mattered. She didn’t care’ . It would be easier, if something ter- rible happened. If you put on an act, it ought to be a good one. Uncle Jasper’s table manners should have been worse. Or Larry should have made some break. “Larry,” said Ursula, suddenly, ‘‘take that chicken bone in your fingers, and be comfort- able.” “Well! Gosh! And after what you told me about remembering my manners!"” “‘Oh, be yourself, Larry!”’ “Well, then, where’s those service plates I was to pretend not to notice? I haven’t seen any new plates — just the regular Sunday set.” ““I was just trying to make an im- pression,”” said Ursula. ‘‘Changed my mind.” “Well, anyhow,” said Larry dis- approvingly, *‘I don’t think you ought to tell a fella to eat with his fingers when there’s company.” Dick caught her eye, and grinned. It made her ache, for an instant. For it was his special “for-you-only” smile. At least she used to believe it was only for her. Until tonight it had always created the fleet, sweet illusion that he and she were alone in the world. Now she smiled back, but the illusion was gone . . . Nothing mat- tered . . . Uncle Jasper was asking for coffee. ‘“None of these silly demmy tassies — a man-sized cup, and a bit of bread to finish up with, though the pie was prime.”’ And Uncle Jasper dunked his bread Fog Continved from page five ‘“Yes, sir — just that,” Nagle an- swered. “‘Strange how cruel imagination can be to the ready mind,” John Farne said. ““You mean, you think that’s what killed your — the other Farnes?” “More than likely,” John Farne said. “Didn’t your instinct demand that we should go hard a-port directly you saw, or thought you saw that ship?” *“That’s right, sir,” Nagle nodded, “‘and that would have sent us bang on the reef.””y “Yes, you can take it that that same instinct wrecked those others,” John Farne nodded grimly. “We'd better log and report the phenomenon. It looks like a constant.” ‘“Yes, and it explains a good many in his coffee, and she didn’t wince. When it was over, her mother said, “Go into the living room, all of you. I'll clean up the table — “No, let the young folks do it,” Uncle Jasper interrupted. ‘‘There's that I want to talk to you about.” In the kitchen, Ursula, once more swathed in her smock, was putting food away, and trying to make talk. She could hardly stand it. The putty had vanished the minute she was alone with Dick. When he stood in the kitchen door, awkward and rather helpless with' a tray of dishes held stiffly in his hands, though Ursula laughed and said lightly, “Whatahard time you're having!” she could more easily have cried. She knew now what heart-break meant. For Dick looked so dear, so altogether lovable, standing there. And there was some- thing so deliciously intimate about it ... Orrather there might have been — that was the pang. She was running out of things to say; she was beginning to think. Would he ever come again? Was he disgusted with this messy ménage? She must do something, or she might cry. Putting on an act . . . ‘‘Here, set that down. That garbage pail over there opens by a little pres- sure with the foot. Here’s a rubber scraper. Can you scrape the chicken bones into the pail? Bright boy!” If only this wretchedness had held off until the end of the evening! But now she had to keep things going. ““You might pour this cream back into the bottle, and put it in the ice- box.” “Listen, Ursula — " ‘‘And bring out that coffee urn — "’ “Ursula, you're a wizz.” ““There, we're about through. Give me the urn — I'll empty it, and we'll call it an evening. Mother and I will do the dishes later.” “‘Stop talking a minute, Ursula. I want to tell you something.” “‘Don’t be so solemn about it. You can tell me when we get back in the living room.”” She held out a hand for the coffee urn. He stooped and set it down in the middle of the floor. Then he seized her about the waist, and swiftly lifted her to the top of the refrigerator. “Dick! Whatever — *’ ““There seems no way to silence you but to put you on ice. Now listen, Ursula — " The feel of his hands, as he had lifted her so lightly, had made her helpless. She couldn't think of any- thing to say. And now he was going to put it into words, he was going to tell her — she knew from the troubled _look on his face — that he was going away. “Even now,” he was saying, and his eyes were clouded, ‘‘even now you're trying not to listen to me. Ursula, don’t you care that I’'m in trouble?” “In trouble! You? Dick, dariing!” ““‘Oh, Ursula, say it again. .The dar- ling I mean.” “I think,”” her voice caught. “I think you'd better let me down.” ‘“Listen, Ursula. I've wanted from wrecks in the Passage,”’ the first officer agreed, but he looked queerly at John Farne III. “*Just why didn’t you go hard a-port, sir.” ““Too much like old John,” John III grinned, ' ‘Ram and be damned’ would have been his line — better than going on that reef, anyhow.” *‘Queer though that that fog mirage sunk him,” Nagle said. ‘““May have, but I don’t think it did,”” John III answered. “‘I think his anger and his hurry did that. I think his instinct would have saved him if he’d been himself, just as it saved me.” He stared ahead into the fog now thinning as they left the Passage. *“0Old John’s spirit saved me. That might be worth logging too, eh, Nagle? .. . Just to show that the old Farne hoodoo is dead.” The End the day we met to ask you to marry me. But I've always felt it wouldn’t do.” Ursula’s body stiffened. ‘“You see,”” Dick went on, “‘our business has been shaky of late. A big combine is trying to gobble us up, or squeeze us out. And if it does, we’ll be pretty poor.” Ursula was sitting statue- still, now. “You've always seemed so dainty and luxurious,” Dick went on, ‘‘sort of, well, as if you ought to have every- thing in the world done for you, and treasures laid at your feet. Well, to- night, when you came to the door in your smock, suddenly 1 thought, ‘Maybe she’d be willing to be a poor man’s wife.” Not poverty-stricken, but you might have to do the cooking. But I'd be less awkward about help- ing, with a little practice — Ursula, you're laughing!”’ “Lift me down!” Ursula wasn't laughing, though it sounded as if she were. ‘I can’t — no, really, I can’t accept a proposal of marriage on an icebox. . . . Oh, Dick!” She was folded close in his arms. “But Ursula darling! You're cry- mng!” “I — was so afraid — that you wouldn’t ask me!” He tipped back her head and looked down into the sweet, tear-stained face. ““Sweet, darling idiot!” he said. And then his lips found something better to do. “Well, if that's how it is,” said Uncle Jasper, grinning at Ursula as she stood radiant in the doorway, Dick’s arm about her, ‘‘telephone your father at the banquet to bring Dick’s father home with him. 'Twas business with him tomorrow brought me here.” “‘But — you're not — not the man from the Consolidated ! gasped Dick. “Well,” Uncle Jasper heaved him- self out of his chair, and approached them. “Looks like you'd decided — you two — that consolidation can be mighty agreeable!” The End “Klutch’’ Holds FALSE TEETH Tight — all day ‘‘Klutch' formsacomfortcushion;holds the plates so snug they can't rock, drop, chafe or be played with. You can eat and speak as well as you did with your own teeth. Why endure loose plates.” “Klutch” will end your troubles. 25¢ and 50c at druggists’. If your druggist hasn’t it, don't waste money on sub- stitutes, but send us 10c and we will mail you a generous trial box. HART & CO., Box 2441-G, Elmira,N. Y, /. 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