Modern Screen (Jan-Nov 1944)

course he had seen them going out, to Washington Balls, to picnics on the Potomac. He knew that his own Cabinet Officer, McAdoo, saw Nell with suspicious frequency, and he was somewhat aware that a tall young man used to come and ask about Jessie from time to time . . . what was that man's name? "Jessie out again?" he said to Ellen one night. "Yes. Jessie's out. Again." "Nell, too?" "Nell, too." "Hope they enjoy themselves," he said vaguely. "Girls usually do when they're in love." "Love!" he said. "Jessie? Nell?" "You sound startled." "Startled?" he said. "I'm flabbergasted. With whom? Who are these men they're in love with?" "Come, dear," Ellen said, smiling. "Think hard. Try." . "Mac of course. That's Nell. He's been in love with her ever since he first laid eyes on her. They're really thinking of getting married?" "I hope they are," Ellen said. "It might . create something of a scandal if they didn't." Wilson laughed: "So she's in love as all that. But Jessie's beau? I know him, of course. The tall young man. Very pleasant. Schoolteacher, isn't he? Sayre, that's his name. Francis Sayre. Of course I know my daughters' beaux!" he said triumphantly. "Remarkable," Ellen agreed. And then they both laughed. They were joking about that one night — all of them, the whole family; how they were all running off to get married. In one corner of the large room Ellen was working on an invitation list to the mar riages. Nell and Jessie were radiant in their love. Margaret was at the piano. Wilson looked around at them in mock disapproval. "That's all you're using the White House for — a bait for marriage," he said. Nell giggled: "It's all Jessie's fault." "I like that," Jessie said indignantly. "I suppose you don't want to get married." "After all," Nell said, "I have a perfect right to. Mac lives right here in Washington. It was just natural that we should meet. But you had to lure your man all the way out from ends of nowhere — " "Nell — " Jessie said softly. "Of course I want you to be happy, and I think Frank is wonderful. But do you have to go back with him? We've never been broken up before. It's always been us, all of us together — " Ellen was walking briskly across the room toward the piano: "I don't see anything to be so blue about. We'll still be seeing each other. Strike up a song, Margaret. Let's see if we can still sing anyway. We have every right to be happy." alone with grief . . . And just then, just before she reached the piano, they saw the sudden spasm of pain cross her face! She had only strength enough to reach for the piano and hold on to it, while in the sudden shocked silence, Wilson moved quickly across the room to her side. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Just a little — nothing," she said. But they knew it was more than nothing. And they knew it for sure when Dr. Grayson told them the full story. He said it kindly, but in the end it meant that it was only a question of time. Then, in the suddenly large and empty room, Wilson faced it. He watched Grayson walk out, and then he turned toward the windows. Just outside, he could see the rows of Ellen's flower garden. He forced the word, the frightened, ugly word, out of his mind. But it always returned, and he had to face it: Ellen was going to die. He heard some one come into the room. It was Margaret. He began to speak then, very softly, as though to himself. "If only she didn't have to suffer," he said. "If only there was something I could do about that. She's always been so radiant, so full of life. She was always so willing to share everything. Even her life itself. If she dies, something of me dies with her — since the first time I ever saw her, she's been part of me — " Margaret said: "She's always been happy, Father. She's so proud of you — " a world he never made . . . He didn't answer. He stood looking out at the rose garden, and then suddemly he buried his head in his hands. Proud of him? What was all the pomp, all the power compared to the bare touch of her living hand? Until she died, he walked about as a man in a daze, barely seeing those around him. It gave him a little time to steel himself; there was still a little time to share with Ellen as she grew thinner and weaker. And then on the last day, he knew it had to be, there was nothing more to be done. He stood alone in the huge room at the open window looking out at the faded rose garden. He heard Dr. Grayson come into the room, and he thought with a heavy sudden despair: She's dead. Through the open window came the jangle of the discordant noises of Washington. Far off, somewhere, a newsboy was calling: "War! War! Read all about the War! Germany declares War!" THIS SUPERIORITY OF PHILIP MORRIS RECOGNIZED by medical authorities Here's what happened in clinical tests of men and women smokers . . . PROVED far less irritating to the nose and throat When smokers changed to philip morris, every case of irritation of nose or throat — due to smoking -either cleared up completely, or definitely improved !