Radio Mirror: The Magazine of Radio Romances (Jan-June 1943)

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME FOR ACCIDENTS! Here are the facts : More bruises, sprains and wrenched muscles occur right in the home — than anywhere else ! So look before you leap. Precaution pays. But when minor injuries strike— do this at once: Apply ANTIPHLOGISTINE — comfortably hot. The Moist Heat of an ANTIPHLOGISTINE pack goes right to work to relieve the painful symptoms of a bruise, sprain or muscle injury. It eases the pain — helps reduce swelling — speeds recovery. You will find that ANTIPHLOGISTINE not only does a lot of good, it feels good. ANTIPHLOGISTINE, a ready -to -use medicated poultice, is also effective in relieving the symptoms of COLDS — tightness of the chest, muscular soreness and cough. For best results apply ANTIPHLOGISTINE early! Antiphlogistirre SICKNESS or ACCIDENT Don't allow Hospitalization expense to ruin your life sav> ings. Insure NOW... BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE I In case of unexpected sickness or accident you may go to any Hospital in the U. S. or Canada, under any Doctor's care. Your expenses will be paid in strict accordance with Policy provisions. Individual or entire family eligible (to age 70). No agent will call. MAIL COUPON AT ONCE POLICY PAYS Hospital Expenses for Sickness or Accident up to * 5 40.00 Doctor Expense up to $135.00 Loss of Time from Work up to $300.00 loss of Life $1000.00 War Coverage ...And other valuable benefits. I NORTH AMERICAN MUTUAL INSURANCE CO. ; I Dept. MC3S-4. Wilmington, Del. Please send me, without obligation, details about * J your "3c A Day Hospitalization Insurance Plan". J J Nome. ■ I AddrdMt I ■City -State • seem like it now, Arda, but this war that just started is our war, too. Give us a little time, and we'll be in it, and once that happened they'd take me for the ■ Army whether I wanted to go or not. That being the case, I'd just as soon get in on the ground floor. The only thing is, I wouldn't feel like going unless I knew Gene was fixed up and happy. He's always depended on me, you know, and I — I just wouldn't feel right, leaving him alone. Silly, maybe, but that's the way I'd feel. But if you and he get married, and he's boss of a nice little business of his own — well, that'll be different. It'll all be working out the best for — for everybody," he concluded. As for me, I sat there with my brain in a whirl. Tim's bringing up the subject of marriage for me and Gene would have been enough to set it spinning, but in addition there were the service station, the inheritance, Tim's decision to join the Army — AND yet, out of it all, one fact ■^* emerged clearly. Everything was working out perfectly for everyone. Gene and I would have our happiness, our home, the security Gene felt he needed for marriage, and Tim would have the freedom to do as he wanted to do, join the Army. "Tim," I said unsteadily, "this is so sweet of you — so wonderful — " "Oh — " he said awkwardly. "It isn't so much. I'd do a lot more if it was necessary to make the kid happy. But as it happens, it's as much selfishness on my part as anything else. I want to be able to get out of here — " I was surprised at the uncharacteristic vehemence with which he said "out of here" — "and know Gene's settled." "All the same, I still think it's wonderful. And I want you to know we'll pay back the money someday — when you need it." "Forget it." I saw the flash of his teeth. Then he stood up. "Well— I'll be going, Arda. I — I guess you'll be wanting to see Gene." That made me remember, suddenly, that here we'd been sitting arranging Gene's whole future, all by ourselves. I gasped. "Suppose Gene doesn't want to . . . well, suppose he doesn't want to marry me?" Tim laughed. "You ought to know better than to worry about that! The kid's crazy about you." He turned quickly and went down the steps. To tell the truth, I hardly was conscious of his leaving. My imagination was already leaping ahead . . . We wouldn't have a very elaborate wedding, of course, because probably there wouldn't be much time to prepare, with Tim in a hurry to join the Army. But we could have it in the chapel of the church where I'd been christened, and afterwards we could have a reception here at the house ... I'd wear my mother's veil, and get a white dress that I could use later for parties. And we'd go to Chicago for our honeymoon. I shivered, hugging my shoulders in my arms and smiling to myself. "Mrs. Gene Gorman," I whispered. "Mrs. Eugene L. Gorman . . ." My vague fear of marriage seemed to have evaporated. It was as if somehow Tim, by a magic charm, had brought me courage and confidence along with his other gifts. If Tim thought marriage was right for Gene and me — if he was sure that our marriage would leave him free to leave with a light and certain heart — why, then, he must be right, because Tim was such a right sort of person. I sat up with a start. The house was dark behind me, and the notes of the bell on the city hall clock were still vibrating in the night air. Subconsciously, I had counted them, eleven of them. I had dreamed away at least two hours since Tim left! And Gene hadn't come. Tim had said — hadn't he? — that I'd "be wanting to see Gene." That must have meant he intended to see Gene himself, tell him his plan. Well, if he had, wouldn't Gene have hurried right over to see me? — that is, if ... if he was as happy as I over the prospect of being married? APPREHENSION broke over me like • a cold drenching wave. I had been too blithely sure of myself in assuming that Gene loved me; so had Tim. He didn't want to marry me at all. He was at home now, trying to think of a way out of the impossible situation in which Tim had placed him by coming to see me . . . Well, he needn't be afraid. I wouldn't hold him to a promise his brother had made for him. I'd tell him I had thought things over and decided we shouldn't get married, I'd hide the way I really felt, I'd hide my disappointment and my hurt. And then I saw Gene coming up the steps to the porch. I had been so sure he wouldn't come that I could only stare, an invisible band clamped so tightly about my throat that no words could pass. Ghostlike in the darkness, he stood in front of me and said softly, "It's so late — I was afraid you'd gone to bed." He stopped, and I found my voice — a flat and choked-sounding voice. "I was just going," I said. "I thought you weren't going to come." "Tim and I got to talking, and I didn't know it was so late." We were like two boxers, sparring, testing each other. I still sat in the glider, huddled up close into one corner of it, and he towered above DON'T RISK DISAPPOINTMENT Reserve Your Copy of Next Month's RADIO MIRROR Today! The paper shortage may restrict the number of copies of RADIO MIRROR we will be able to print. Your demand has been so great that everybody who wants RADIO MIRROR will not be able to buy it. Avoid future inconvenience or disappointment by instructing your newsdealer today to reserve your copy of next month's and succeeding issues of RADIO MIRROR as soon as his supply arrives. It will take only a moment of your time and will assure you of receiving your copy of RADIO MIRROR each month as issued. 66 RADIO MIRROR