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From under my Hat
Marion developed many good habits. Friends fallen on hard times would get nice fat checks to pose for publicity pictures. She'd wrap her best fur coat around a girl who wanted to impress a producer to land a job; she loaned her jewels— never cared much for them anyway.
Once one of her cooks, a widow with a small daughter, became seriously ill. Before the woman died, Marion promised her that she would take care of the child, Mary Grace, and bring her up as though she were her own. Maiy Grace developed into a very pretty, sweet blond girl. She was also well educated.
After Mary Grace broke her back in an automobile accident she was hospitalized for many months. Then Bill Curley, publisher of the New York JournalAmerican, became attracted to the girl, and Marion helped to further the romance. Curley was old enough to be Mary Grace's father, but she accepted his marriage proposal and the wedding was arranged at San Simeon.
The bridesmaids were Marion Davies, Doris Duke, and Mrs. Laddie Sanford; the matron of honor was Margaret Roach, former wife of Hal Roach, Hollywood producer. It was a gala event, and the marriage, I'm glad to relate, turned out to be a happy one.
A visit to the Hearst ranch was a ticket to never-never land. Never has there been such a place, and never will we see its like again. From the time you left home until you returned your expenses were paid.
The castle which W.R. insisted on calling a ranch was like a lion taking its ease with cubs scattered among its paws; it was surrounded by three guesthouses of marble, called "bungalows." Each had twenty-two rooms. Mr. Hearst lived in one of them; on my first visit I was housed in the same one.
I recall hearing W.R. outside my window one morning, strolling along in conversation with his head gardener. In that thin, high voice he was saying, "The place looks beautiful, but I'm disappointed in these flowers around my bungalow. I liked the lilies better last year." I heard a murmured regret from the gardener. W.R. added, "These are pretty, but not as fragrant."
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