Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1948)

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Please send me, without obligation, detoils about your "3c A Day Hospitalization Insurance Plan”. Name....*. r. . Address, , • • City o Stale. I l l I I pletely equipped babies’ diet kitchen, into the nursery. You stand looking at two identical cribs and high-chairs, two of the inevitable “potty” chairs — and finally at two play pens side by side, with a tiny baby kicking its heels in each. “Bob comes up to play with them every night — but first, he stands looking through the door, saying, ‘Look what’s happened to me!’ ” remarks Dolores. “We had applied, some time ago, for a new little sister — and at the same time, I had mentioned that later on we would like a little brother to keep her company. By ‘later on’ I meant at least a year. But, they’re here. They arrived together.” After you have watched Norah and Kelly get their equal share of loving from their mother, and been allowed to hold them both for yourself, you agree the Hopes are “the luckiest people!” — which applies also to the newest Hopes. The afternoon sun is now just right for a basking session — you slip into shorts and spread yourself lazily on the flagstone terrace. You may have sandwiches and tea brought out if you wish, but you keep putting it off until, surprisingly, it’s almost time for dinner. . . . A l : THE dining room is stunningly done in lemon yellow and pale green, with pastoral murals decorating the walls. The buffet holds a handsome collection of sterling services. “Isn’t this a beautiful thing?” Dolores asks, lifting an ornately embossed coffee urn, a recent gift from a friend. “Funny, the junk you can collect — ” says Bob, after the manner of all husbands. Dinner includes some of the House of Hope specialties: Roast beef with a superlative Yorkshire pudding, string beans and pickled walnuts. For dessert, home-made and melt-in-the-mouth Napoleons. Conversation includes an off-hand announcement from Bob that proves movie stars are not quite like other husbands. “I leave the 22nd of June for Buenos Aires,” he remarks casually, and then to the trio of open-mouths representing Dolores, Linda and Tony, “I may take you three with me. . . Knowing full well that Monsieur Hope has disclosed his fond plans for a vacation with his family to practically everyone at the studio, you know this is his way of not building up their expectations lest professional commitments interfere at the last minute. “I’d have heard it sooner or later — probably from some columnist,” says his wife. “It’s always like that — clothes to buy, luggage to check, change of water for the children to worry about — all out of a clear sky.” She’s smiling — and you know that these are little details Mrs. Hope has learned to manage. After dinner, there’s a brief adjournment to the music room, to hear how Linda has progressed with her piano lessons. Done in rose and green satin, this room has a formal and cloistered air. It is also used for Linda’s and Tony’s French lessons — which currently are causing their father some confusion, since he started his own French lessons with them. “At least, I was with them — now they’ve got me humping to even tag along. It’s a plot — every morning they greet me with some little French nifty designed to murder me, and it does. After all, how long can I use that ‘Bon Jour’ to cover me?” The demon parlez-vous-ers having gone off to bed, grown-ups take after-dinner coffee in the billiard room. This “Saturday night” room is mellow with walnut-paneling, and equipped with pool table and racks. The shelves around the room hold not only modern glassware, but a collection of copper and pewter beer mugs. And lining the plate-rail halfway around the room is I Bob’s hard-to-get collection — golfing cups, 118