Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 115, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 September 1931 — Page 9

SEPT. 22,1031

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BFGIN Hf.RF TODAY Pretty NORMA KENT. 20-yer-old sec ret#r. marries MARK TRAVERS. of F. M TRAVERS, millionaire rea. estate dealer. In solte of the father's opposition and threats to disinherit Mark. The atorv opens m Marlboro, mldti * ■western nietropoll*. Mark sella his expensive roadster to Ret money for the honevmoon and he and Norma ko to fashionable Blue Soring*. There Norma meets HOLLIS BTONE. ,and It Is evident from the girl's manner that she has known Stone before. Their money is soon (tone, partly due to Mark's Rambling. With SSOO borrowed from Stone .the couple returns .to Marlboro. Mark sets out on a round of Jiieasure seeking instead of hunting for ob. When their funds dwindle again. Mark and Norma move to a cheap apartment Mark gets one lotr and loses It. Then he becomes a floorwalker In Blossomdale’s department store Norma practices rigid economics at home and in solte of poverty the voung couple are happy. Then Mark's father sends for him offers to take him back Into hts own company if Mark will prove be can make good. His first task Involves a business trip to Prance. Norma Is to remain at home. Mark, with no suspicion of trickery, is eager to go. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (Continued) “But you know it’s against company rules. And dad isn’t willing to make the slightest exception for me. That’s all right; I don't want him to. “I'm going into this thing, Norma, to show him I'm not the dub he thought I was. I tell you it’s a great chance! Why, look, he’s going to begin paying me $75 a week right away! “Where could I ever hope to get at the kind of thing I’ve been doing? Blossomdale’s! Why, you'd be living in a dump like this the rest of your life!’’ u tt ttHIS sweeping gesture expressed disgust at everything about them. The apartment was in a rather miserable state. The living room, suddenly transformed into dressing quarters, was littered with Mark’s discarded clothing, stray towels and toilet articles. Drawers of the commode that during daytime hours was masked by a dignified covering were pulled out and garments overflowed from one of them.

Norma's little black mules occupied the center of a chair. A closet door had been left open, revealing clothing on hangers and the bathroom, also visible, was in disorder. This was what always happened when Mark dressed for a state occasion. The limited space in the apartment made it worse. “I don’t want anything but to be sure you’ll come back to me, Mark! We’ve been—happy here!” Suddenly the young man caught her up beside him. ‘‘Of course I’ll come back, darling! Nothing in the world could keep me away from you. Os course I’ll come back! ‘‘Oh, if I could only be sure—!” ‘‘But I will! As if anything could keep me away! Why, Norma, there’s a tear—w ecan't have anything like that. We—Good Lord, who’s that? The bell frfom the entrance of the building rang a second time, louder than the first. “I’ll see,” Norma said quickly and went to answer. A moment later she turned. “It’s your father’s chauffeur,” she said. “He’s downstairs waiting for us.” “Oh—Harvey! Might have known mother’d send him. Well, that’s ten minutes saved. Harvey’ll get us there quicker than any taxi.” ts tt tt NEITHER spoke for the next few moments. Norma helped Mark locate hat and gloves, transfer his keys to the right pocket and at the last minute grab a handkerchief. She slipped the short velvet wrap about her shoulders. “Ready?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m ready. Come on—let’s go!” When they were settled in the luxurious motor car, Norma found Mark’s hand. “I’ll feel better about things.” she whispered, "after tonight.” “You mean—talking it over with Mother and Dad?” The girl nodded. “Sure you will!” Mark agreed. “You’re going to like them, Norma. They're—well, Dad’s a lot different than you think he is. And you know Mother likes you.” “I hope to!” “Os course she does! And so will Dad. Now just get it into your head that everything’s going to be all right. Tonight’s a celebration! Prodigal son, fatted calf and all that! You’ve got to be happy about this, Mrs. Travers!” Mark was elated, in his gayest and most winning mood. The girl smiled. “I’ll try, Mr. Travers.” “Idiot!” The word was an endearment. Mark’s arm, which was about her, tightened. a a a

TM HE camouflage of false gaiety stood Norma in good stead when three-quarters of an hour later she looked across the heavy lace, the crystal goblets and candlelight of the Travers’ dining table. The room was very large, with dark wood-paneled walls. Brocaded curtains of rich coloring hung almost from the high ceiling to the floor. There was a spaciousness and dignity about the Travers home unlike anything Norma had ever seen. An expert and highly-paid decorators had collected the authetnic Jacobean furnishings. Mrs. Travers, in stately black, at the head of the table, seemed an entirely different person than when Norma had seen her before, weeping in her son’s arms. Her husband’s manner was formal. Only Mark, directly opposite from Norma, appeared to be natural. Mark did most of the talking. Several times he tried rather unsuccessfully to draw Norma into the conversation. There was about the dinner an air of persistent frigidity. It was a relief when they arose to have coffee in the living room. A fire burned in the grate here. That at least suggested warmth. Nonna settled in a deep chair gazing at the flames. Mrs. Travers, beside her, said: “We're going to be so happy to have you here, my dear!” Norma roused herself. “I—l’m sorry. I'm afraid I wasn’t listening r “I said we’re going to be so glad to have you with us while Mark’s away. It’s going to be a splendid thing for him. you know. “I can tell you now what a terrible thing this—er. misunderstanding has been. No one but a mother could realize what i've been through! But It’s to be all right now. “It’s wonderful to have Mark i getting into the business seriously.

Mr. Travers needs him. There’s no unit to what he won't do for him if his works out well.’’ * tt tt THE girl felt her head swimming They were all rushing ahead. Planning Mark's future. Talking about “great opportunities,” about “big things,” about money and business success as though they were the only things in life. What about Norma? She felt she was being lost in the swift tide. “I’m glad," Norma said slowly, "for Mark’s sake. I hope it all comes out as you say." “Oh, it will. When Mr. Travers makes up his mind on a matter, there’s never the slightest doubt." Mark, a' little distance away, was lighting a cigaret. “That’s right, Mother," he said. “Tell Norma I’m not going to fall Into the ocean or be eaten up by sharks. She has the idea crossing the Atlantic is about like flying to the moon.” “Mark will be all right," the elder Travers put in. “He’s a good sailor.” “Yes, of course!” Mrs. Travers was speaking to Norma again. And while he’s gone you’ll be busy, you know. I’m sure you’ll want to find a little place to live —in this part of the city, I mean. “Os course, the rooms you have are very nice, but it would be so much more convenient if you and Mark could be near—” Planning, planning! The rest of the evening was devoted to it. Every one was planning for the future except Norma. Every one had a great dear to say, but somehow the girl’s own wishes were ignored. She was to do this; she was to do that—but no one consulted her. It was all to be very wonderful, though in exactly what way no one explained. There was talk of men and women of whom Norma never had heard. Travers, his wife and son chatted easily. They seemed to forget the girl’s presence.

SHE sat back very still and white, listening to the others. "They hate me,” Norma told herself. “No matter what they say or how much they smile I know they hate me! They don’t want me here!” "They” referred to Mark’s parents. There was nothing tangible to which she could trace this presentiment. There were no slights to his wife evident to Mark. Yet when the two wers in their own apartment later that night Norma dropped her wrap. “Mark!” she begged, clinging to his shoulders, “don’t go away! Please don’t go!” He kissed her. “I’ve got to, sweetheart. You know that.” “Please don’t! I’m sure something terrible is going to happen. I know it will! Oh, I know it!” “It's just that you’re tired, dear. Better get to bed. Mother and Dad will look out for you while I'm away. If I didn’t know' that, I’d be worried myself. “Come on. Get out of that dress and let’s get to bed. You looked awfully sweet tonight, Norma.” a a a SHE refused to be quieted and comforted. There was a scene, ending with Norma’s crying herself to sleep. On Sunday—the following day—they went over the same arguments. Norma was willing to admit the trip would be a good thing financially for Mark. She could not explain her deep-rooted prejudice. No use to tell the youth she knew his parents loathed her. No use telling him it was feminine intuition that warned her against the separation. “Something will happen!” she repeated a dozen times. “Something that will be terrible!” It all resulted in a strained, miserable state of affairs lasting until 4 o’clock Monday afternoon. Mark’s train was to leave at 4:10. They were gathered in a little group in the station waiting room—his father, mother, and Norma. Mark, brisk, smiling a little nervously, put • his arm around the girl. “You’re going to write often, dear? You’re going to try to be happy?” “I’ll try, Mark!” A red cap appeared to take the bags. They went to the car with him. There were kisses, farewell messages. Noise and confusion. A quick, tremulous embrace between Mark and Norma. Suddenly all the girl knew was that the train was pulling away from them. She cried out. Tears filled her eyes. On the rear of the last platform she still could see Mark, waving.

CHAPTER THIRTY TRAVERS led the way through the station and his wife followed beside Norma. Mrs. Travers said as they stepped out on the sidewalk, “Harvey has the car over at the right.” Everything before Norma was a blur. She followed Mrs. Travers into the limousine. She sat close to the window and stared out at the street. There were men and women passing. Taxicabs and trucks and other vehicles. The whole scene before the girl’s eyes became a meaningless haze. She tried to wink back the tears, but they persisted. Her father-in-law was saying something to his wife. Norma did not hear what it was. Then she was aware that they were moving away from the station. Somewhere in the distance, train wheels turned faster and faster carrying Mark away from her. Mark was gone! There had been that last moment when she had seen him smiling back at her from the car platform. Waving and smiling. Now he was gone and she would not see him for five weeks. Five weeks—it seemed endless, impossible! Norma clutched her hands together tightly. She could not cry out now. She could not give way and sob out the terror in her heart. She only could sit there gripping her icy fingers, telling herself over and over that she must manage to keep from breaking down before these strangers. Yes, they were strangers and they hated her. The girl’s lips became a tightly pressed line of crimson, struggling Ito steady itself, but frequently trembling. Mark was moving farther away every, minute. Nearer and nearer [to Itfw York and the ocean liner

that was to put the Atlantic between them. Five weeks made up of moments as long as each of these? Five weeks of torture and uncertainty? tt tt tt SUDDENLY she realized that the car had stopped. Mr. Travers was getting out. “Be home around 6.” he said over his shoulder. “Needn't come for me, Harvey, I’ll stop at the club and ride out with Summerville." He moved clumsily as he got to the sidewalk and turned away without a backward glance. The chauffeur looked questioningly toward Mrs. Travers. “You may take us home, Harvey,” The woman sighed as she spoke. “Such a day!” she murmured to Norma. “I had to rush away from luncheon. Meeting trains and waiting in stations is loathsome, don’t you think so? I’ll be glad to have my tea.” The girl did not answer. Mrs. Travers gave her a searching glance, then went on. “I want to tell you I think you’ve acted sensibly in this matter, my dear. So foolish to become emotional. Shows such ill breeding. “Os course I was a Randolph before my marriage. No doubt that’s why such things affect me so. The Randolphs, as you must know, have been leaders in this country since colonial times. Some day I’ll show you the-family history ’’ The monolog continued. Mrs. Travers grew animated as she reviewed the importance of her ancestors. So many acres of land. So many servants. So many Randolphs in congress. A cousin in the governor’s chair. As long as she was talking Norman had her thoughts to herself. tt tt tt

NOW and then the girl nodded, murmured a “yes’' or “no.” If Mrs. Travers had been observant, she might have been nettled that her words created so slight an impression. Mrs. Travers was not observant. To her it was inconceivable that any one should fail to be awed by the splendors of the Randolphs. The limousine slowed and turned into the drive at the side of the Travers residence. It halted before three steps leading to the entrance. Harvey was holding the door open, waiting for them to descend. “You can put the car upi” Mrs. Travers told him as she swept forward. “I won’t need it again.” The haze of unreality faded before Norma. The brick mansion was as forbidding as it had been when she had visited it before, but it W’as real enough. Tompkins, a servant whose face she remembered, met them in the hall. “Have there been any messages?” Mrs. Travers demanded. "Did any one call?” “No, Madam.” The older woman turned toward Norma. “Tompkins will show you your room,” she said. “It’s in the west wing and I hope you’ll find it comfortable. Your trunk should be there by this time—” It was the expression on the man’s face that made her check the words and add, “Well, Tompkins? What is it?” “Excuse me, Madam, but the trunk has not come.” “What? But I left orders—!” “A man from the transfer com- , pany telephoned. He said there was no trunk at that address.” Mrs. Travers whirled. Apparently interference With arrangements she had planned irritated her. “There’s been a mistake,” she announced. “There must have been a trunk there!” tt a a NORMA had found her voice. “It doesn't matter,” she said. “I’ll see about it tomorrow.” “Very well.” Mrs. Travers agreed. “But I wouldn't put it off until tomorrow if I were you. They’re frightfullly careless, you know. There’s a chance you’ll never even see your things—” “I’ll take care of it,” Norma assured her. “If you don’t mind I’d like to go to my room now.” “Os course. Will you come down for tea or would you like it sent up to you?” “I don’t believe I car for any, thank you. I thought I’d lie down a little while.” “Very well. Dinner’s at 7:30. Ring for Isabel if there’s anything you want, my dear. Show her upstairs, rTV >mpkfiris.” The girl found herself following Tompkins' stiff, narrow shoulders down a long hall. The room before which they stopped was the smallest she had seen in the Travers home. It was simply decorated. “Comfortable,’ as Mrs. Travers had suggested, but certainly not of the style to be expected in such a dwelling.

(To Be Continued.)

Cross-Word Puzzle and Sticklers on Page 12

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PAGE 9

—By Williams

—By Blosser*

—By Crane

—By Small

•—By Martin;