Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 87, Indianapolis, Marion County, 31 August 1928 — Page 24

PAGE 24

THIS HAS HAPPENED VALERIE WEST, pretty and charming—and hard as nails—is engaged to TAD THORNE, adored brother of SYBIL THORNE, notoriously lovely and indiscreet. Sybil, a Boston society girl, who has had p’enty of affairs of her own. distrxists V-Aerie from the beginning. and is fearful for Tad’s happiness. A few days before the wedding Tad finds Valerie with a monocled Englishman, buying diamond ring. She introduces him as LORD MONTFORD and tells Tad that the beautiful dinner ring she exhibits proudly is a wedding gift from his lordship. Furiously Tad orders his fiancee to return die ring. Lord Montford intervenes, and Val begins to argue. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER VIII SLOWLY Valerie slipped the ring from her finger. Monty,” she said. ‘‘Tad's right.. Thank you just the same." She took Tad's arm. "You know, Monty, I’m crazy about diamonds. But I’m crazy about this big boy, too. And he's an awful bad actor, Monty.” Valerie was carrying a delicate situation witb rjerye,. Tad thought he had never seen her so adorable before. She extended her slim hand. "Goodby, tjien, old dear. We and love to have you come to the wedding. wouldn't we. Tad? And the reception, top. It’s only for bur very best friends—but we and adore having you. Wouldn't we. Tad?” “Delighted,” murmured Tad, icily. They wCTe' shaking hands, Lord Montford and Valerie. ‘‘So sorry,” he told her, "that I shan’t be able to. But you’ll look me up when you run over to London? And remember me to your charming mother. So curious to have seen you again. Cheerio.” "Damn clown!” thought Tad, and tugged a little at Valerie’s arm. • Outside she turned on him. "Well. Tad Thorne, I don’t know whether I want to kiss you, or slap you. You big idiot, you!You darling old thing!” , "You know I was right, Valerie.” Fes, of course. That’s why I’m so sore about it. You're always right. And I'm always wrong. But, Taddy, that was a peach of a ring! I'll never have another like it.” She sounded very wistful. ‘‘You’re a little imp. Val. Don’t you know it would make an awful simp out of me, to have you wearing a ring like that, from another nmn?” "Oh, I suppose so,” she agreed, “tut that isn’t my fault, is it?” He looked at her sharply. •'No,” he agreed quietly, “it isn’t. Biat you don’t have to marry me, you know, Val, if you don’t want to.” "Don’t be a fool,” she admonished him saucily. "You know I do.” a a a THREE days later they were mar • ried. Valerie wore her* “misty pink,” and carried roses of a deeper shade. She seemed more like a fairy princess than a bride, and looked as though she had risen from the heart of a rose. Her veil billowed about. her like clouds at sunrise, and every one ■whispered as they always do at weddings” Isn’t she the lovelies'; bride you ever saw!” Tad , seemed very serious and a little pale, as he bent tenderly over his exquisite wife, is curly chestnut hair was graying at the temples, and though he was less boyish, he appeared very • handsome. Morning clothes and silk hats make some men grotesque and others magnificent. Tad was the Apollo type. Mrs. Thorne bustled around, telling every one, “I haven't lost a son I've gained a daughter ” But her cheer was all assumed. For the wedding she had discarded her heavy black, and worn a gown of lavender georgette. The following week she would be quite" conscious stricken about it, fearing that people would talk. Sybil had clung stubbornly to black, because she knew that Valerie disliked the idea. Her dress was of black satin, swathed about her lithe little figure, and her skirt was drapEd and caught at the hip. She wore a large black milan, faced with flesh georgette, and pink pearls that Craig had given her. Some people said she was lovelier than the bride. Craig thought her infinitely more beautiful. n a tt SYBIL had been dreadfully discontented that spring. But melancholy, which usually makes women unattractive, had softened her, land tinged her expression wistfully. Like most women, she needed anchorage desperately. Forlornly she clung to Craig. Wanting, and not wanting him. She had asked him to tell no one of their engagement. In that way, she felt that she had left a sort of loophole. Now she studied him critically, as he stood at the altar, waiting for 'the bridegroom. He caught her iglance, and smiled at her with his eyes. ! He was really very handsome, she 'reflected, and remembered, with (quiet humor, a bit of her mother’s ihomely advice—“A girl could go a lot further and fare worse.” \ "Here comes the bride!” The little organ in the loft was booming exultantly. And Valerie, on her father’s arm, marched down the aisle. Eyes downcast, arms full of roses, and a big. white prayer [beck in her little hands. • She looked like a nun. devout and pure. Tad. coming from the vestry, had joined Craig. All other eyes were for Valerie, but Sybil’s dwelt compassionately on her brother. “Poor Taddy. Poor little devil. ... If she’s not good to you, I’ll fix her!” Valerie was making the responses. Clear and sweet her voice rang through the church. Sybil had heard her at rehearsal the evening before, instructing Tad. ‘‘Speak up good and loud, dear. Most men mumble so foolishly.” And now Tad was mumbling. You could scarcely hear his voice beyond the chancel rail. The little church was heavy with roses and all the langorous. passionate odor of crimson flowers. Candles flickered in tall holders. And there was hint of incense, and the close, sweet smell of sanctity. A rrold chalice stood o-i the altar, and a Bible dripping purple satin ribbons. ‘‘lt’s like Val,” thought Sybil, “getting tied up so grandly and fussily, with all this holiness. She’s making it seem complicated, but that doesn’t any difference.

It comes untied these days, however elaborately it’s knotted.” tt tt tt ] IV/T AN mid wife! It was over. Tad bent and kissed lifi bride. “Part of the act,” reflected Sybil. She had inadvertently heard that, too. "As soon as the minister blesse.l us.” Valerie had told him. "you’re to take me in your arms. Tad, like a movie lover, and kiss me very gently. Be careful not to muss me And if you catch your buttons on my veal, I’ll leave you on the spot." They were coming up the aisle Valerie’s slim hand rested lightly on Tad’s arm. She smiled to left and right, leaning prettily on ner husband. Their attendants followed them. Bertha’s rose pink had heightened her color. She looked hot and uncomfortable, and took Craig’s arm awkwardly. As they passed Sybil and her mother, Craig smileo again. Mrs. Thorn was crying softly, and Sybil braced herself for the ordeal of the reception. There was to be a wedding breakfast at Somerset Inn. Everything was very nice and exceedingly correct. The Wests had a small apartment, and it simplified matters to have breakfast at the smart little seashore hostelry. “After all.” as Mrs West had said to Mr. West, “Valerie’s our only daughter, and we might as well do the thing up right.” “Oh. sure.” conceded Mr. West heartily. "We’ll give Val a good sendoff.” The affair was entirely successful. A muffled orchestra played softly and everything was quiet and decorous. “I suppose it’s a dreadful thing to say,” remarked Mrs. West to Mr. West, as they drove home ih a hired

When George Pruitt '.used to come to the old house on Myrtle St. with red roses for Faith Lane she always put them in a tall, black vase which she had ‘made with wax from an old pickle jar. She found the black vase now and took it into the living room, her head flung back, her lips straight and a little hard. To be sure, George knew those things were ended forever, but it was rather characteristically male to have no sentiment for the past and to hand over her in own presence the very flowers that had been so sacred to her for so long for Faith -was very, very sure that nothing but red roses like velvet ever came in such a box. But they were pink loses in Crystal’s arms. “The sort any man could give to any woman,” Faith found herself saying, even as she saw George’s startled glance at the black vase. “Oh, this won’t do at all,” Faith laughed. “I thought they were red,” then she bit her lip for hav-. ing betrayed her recognition of the box. George only looked at her, and even Crystal was s'ilent as if sensing something she didn’t quite understand. "I never sent red roses to but one woman,” George said, his eyes fixed

Dial 7 'wisters Davlicht Saving lime Meters Given *n Parenihesej WFBM (■>75.1) INDIANAPOLIS (Indianapolis Power and Light Company) FRIDAY P. M. ' 4:llll—Legends of mythology. 4:ls—Popular record release. 4:so—ltems of interest from Indianapolis Times Want Ads. s:oo—Correct time; State road conditions, Indiana State highway commission bulletin. s:ls—‘‘What’s Happening,” Indianapolis Times. S:3O—A chapter a day from the New testament. s:so—“Care of the Hair and Scalp.” s:ss—Baseball scores. o:oo—Correct time. Ed. Resner with WFBM dinner ensembles. o:so—Fire prevention taik, Horace Carey. 7:oo—Studio organ concert. 7:3(1—II. S. Navy recruiting talk, 11. W. Elke. 7:4o—Dental hygiene. Indianapolis Dental Association. 7:4s—Earle Howe Jones. X:oo—Travoil Trio. 3:3o—Concert trio with soloists. !):15—Johnnie Robinson and his Royal Blue Band. 10:15—“The Columnist.” WKBF (252) INDIANAPOLIS (Hoosicr Athletic Club) FRIDAI’ I*. M. • s:oo—Late ncw r s bulletins and sports. o:oo—Dinner concert. 7:oo—Koniola hour. 3:3o—Mary Traub Busch trio. 9:oo—Mrs. Beniamin Miner and Benita Annis.

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FRIDAY NBO-WEAF SYSTEM P. M. 4:00- Waldorf Astoria music to WEEI WRC, WCAE. WWJ. s:oo—Wonder Boys to WRC. WGR. 6:oo—Concert Orchestra and Cavaliers to WEEI. WGR. WLIT. KOA. WFAA KVOO, .VRC. WDAF. WSAI. WCAE. WTAM ,VWJ. WOC, KSD. WCCO WEBH. WOW. • :Oo—An Evening in Paris to WTIC, WJA.R. \ WTAG. WCSH. WRC. WGY. WGR. WCAE WTAM. WWJ, WSAI. WEBH KSD. WDAF. WFI. 7:3o—La France Orchestra to WGR. VI.IT, WCAE. WTAM. WOAI, WWJ. WEBH. KSD. WSAI. WTMJ, WOC. WHO. WOW. WDAF. WGY. KVOO. WFAA. KPRC WRC. B:oo—Concert Bureau Hour to WEE I WTIC. WCSH. WLIT. WRC. WGY. WMC. WCAE. WWJ WON. WHO WOW. WDAF. FAA. KOft. WTMJ. 9:oo—St Regis Orchestra to WHO. 'VOW. WWJ. WCAE. KOA. WMC. NBC-WJZ SYSTEM 4:3o—Gold Spot Pals to WBZ. WBZA. WBAL. WHAM. KDKA. WJR. s:3o—The Dixie Circus to WBZ. WBZA WBAL. WHAM. WJR, KYW. KDKA KWK. WLW. WREN. 6 00—Milady’s musicians to KDKA. KWK. 6:3o—Waldorf Astoria Orchestra to KDKA. KWK. KYW’ WREN. 7:00 Wriglrv review to WHAS. WSB. WSM. WMC WBT W.TAX. WRVA. WBZ. WBZA, KWK WREN. WBAL. WLW. WJR CLW. CDKA WCCO. WEBC. B:oo—Strom berg Carlson Sextette to WBZ. V/BSA. WHAM, KDKA. WJR. WLW. KYW KWK. ’VREN. y 00—Slumber mus'c to WLW’. WRC. WTMJ. COLUMBIA NETWORK 7:oo—True Storv hour to WOH, WNAC. WEAN. WFBL. WMAK. WCAU. WJAS. KOIL. KMB". WADC. WAIU. WKRC. V/GHP. WMAQ. KMOX. WCAO. WOWO. WSPD. B:oo—Kodak Front Porch to same network. B:3o—United Concert Orchestra to same network.

limousine atterward. ‘‘but since Mr. Thorne had to die anyway, it was the luckiest thing for us that he did it just before the wedding. Quiet wedddings are comparatively reasonable, you know. My dear, I simply shudder to think what this affair would have cost us if the Thornes weren’t in mourning.” Mrs. West folded her hands upon her ample bosom. “It’s an ill wind,” she remarked, “that blows nobody good.” tt tt n TAD and Valerie were going to drive to Montreal and Quebec, and upon their return were to visit at the Thornes’ place at Wianno. They planned to start housekeeping in the fall, and would not look for an apartment until midsummer. Valerie had been quite indifferent about a place of her own. “Oh, of course, wc can get something when we get round to it. Tad.” she insisted, “but why rent a place now, and start paying rent months ahead of time?” “But I should think,” he ventured. “that you’d be anxious to get all your things around. We’ve got. a raft of wedding presents. Val. Guess we can fix up a pretty s.vell little cabin, dear. How about it?” “Oh, Tad. I’m not particularly keen about settling down in a hurry. If your mother will put up with us for awhile—it’s so hot in Boston in the summer, you know. I’d lots rather wait.” Sybil went alone to Wianno. to open the place for the return of the newly weds. (To Be Continued) On she beach, when the mist came rolling in, Craig Newhall found Sybil trysting with a phantom lover. And Sybil, in the next chapter, tells Craig that she is going to leave him.

upon Faith a bit accusingly, quite forgetful of Crystal. “I’ll get my Dutch silver vase,” said Faith, nervously leaving th? room. She was grateful for the sound of Tony Tarver’s car outside —an unmistakable sound compounded of a horn that alternately roared like a hyena and tinkled like a bell, shouts and giggles and squeals and baritone and tenor voices, and everything that youth and gay spirits and a summer night and a dark green roadster could compound. Boys and girls spilled out of the ear. up the walk and onto the porch as Bob, boyish and at his best with an avalanche of youth about him. welcomed them with banter that matched their own. “Hi, there, Tony, how did you know I’ve been sitting here in the gloaming languishing for you?” Tony introduced the others. “You know Dick Talbot. Mr. Hathaway and Gertie Morris and Lon Cooper and Ruth Brown, and that’s all we could get in the car unless Tom Stuart’s swimming in the gasoline tank. He threatened to when we wouldn’t bring him along. Where’s Crystal and Mrs. Hathaway? Can we see Crystal? We’ll be quiet as mice. Poor child, I never knew till tonight that she was hurt! Dr. Wright told dad at the club.” Faith came to the door, smiling—“So awfully glad to hear you, Tony. Crystalmeeds some cheering up. All of you come right in.” “Oh, but Crystal has company!” pretested Tony, but George was reaching for his hat and was out before the crowd could stop him. He did stop a minute, though, to talk with Bob who was still on the porch. “Oh, I forgot a message from my father to Crystal,” he said. “I was to tell her not to worry about her position at all. Father said her week’s salary would be sent her on Saturday and that she was to do nothing but get well.” “That shouldn’t take long,” Bob said dityly. “Dr. Wright says he can find nothing wrong right now. I think Crystal will be back to work in a day or so.” (To Be Continued)

FORGOTTEN PASSPORT DELIVERED BY TUG Absent-Minded Teacher Sets Sail Without Visa. Uy NEA Service LONDON, Aug. 31.—Even lady professors are absent minded. When a party of women teachers boarded the liner Celtic at Liverpool, bound for a tour of America, it was found that one of them, had forgotten her passport. She wired home for the missing document, and although it did not arrive by sailing time, officials permitted her to remain on board. Arrangements were made for a messenger to rush the passport to the dock. Then a tug chased the liner 17 miles out to sea and delivered the visa by means of a throw line. BAG FISH BY ANCHOR 14-Pound Pike Stunned by Heavy Iron. IS If United Press BROOKLYN, Mich., Aug. 31.—A report from usually reliable sources says that two amateur fishermen recently caught a 14-pound pike in Vineyard Lake. A more unusual part of the story is that they caught the fish with the anchor of their boat. They told cottagers that, after lo- j eating their prize and having no ! suitable bait, they maneuvered with- I in striking distance in the shallow water and dropped the anchor. The I pike was so stunned that they had little trouble in completing the capture.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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I'.iE BOOK UK KNOWLEDGE

It was coring the Creek and Indian V.'c.r that Andrew Jackson won the term of “Old Hickory.” It grew to be a term of endearment among his soldiers, for they Jacksoh was among would proudly tell one another that tha general was c . an < o < lVf s P res, ‘ "as tough as hickory.” Jackson won renown as a sol- ° ent in ' but .® e ®u " dier by his surprising victory at New Orleans when his J* 011 was thrown into the untrained force defeated British regulars. 8-31 House, which chose John *By NCA, Through Special Formission of th# Publisher* of Too Book es Copyright. 1923*26. I

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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HWnen Jackson cam® to the presidency in 1829, he provided the White House with no mistress, but dur-J Jackson's beloved wife, ing s e jght years of residence there, he kept the Rachel, died in that year; gentle face of his wife constantly before him. During" leaving Jackson stunned Jackson’s first term William Lloyd Garrison's Liberator; j and heart-broken. For was fj rst published, and its ideas of emancipation! years he was inconsol- caused a great stir through the land, able* 8-31 ; jskeuhe^t^&irnopeeii^coi>yMgM^i92ii^th^O|oiief^s9e^ey^[TcM3e^Ciontinu<id^fiKJ^^

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRACCHEK

.AUG. 31, 1928

—By Ahern

—By Martin

—By Blosser

—By Crane

By Small

—By 'J'ayior 1