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was take the girl away from her and put the money in trust. But — oh, Joan — our first case — "
"Let's celebrate! Let's go out to dinner! Oh, darling — " Joan clung to him. "I'm so proud of you."
He held her close and neither of them spoke. All the barriers were down, all the strain forgotten. She and Harry were together again!
The phone jangled sharply. Joan ran to answer it.
It was her mother. Her voice came sharp and excited. "Joan, have you heard? Do you know what's happened?"
"Oh, yes, and isn't it wonderful! Harry's first case — "
"I'm not talking about Harry. It's Phil and Eve. He's left her."
"Oh!" She felt deflated. "I'm sorry, Mother, but — "
"That's not all. He came up to his mother's last night and Eve followed him and told Mrs. Stanley right to her face that it was you who had broken up her marriage."
"But it isn't true, Mother. She doesn't know what she's saying."
"Of course it isn't true, but she'll tell everybody in town. You've got to stop her. Harry's got to stop her. He's a lawyer, isn't he? He can threaten to sue her for slander or something. This ridiculous story must be stopped."
"I'll talk to Harry, Mother. But Eve can't really do us any harm."
"Oh, Joan, how blind you are! If you just hadn't gone and buried yourself down there where nobody ever sees you. They'll believe anything about you. If you'd just — " On and on she talked.
HARRY shook his head gravely when she told him. All the happiness was gone from his face and his voice when he said, "Apparently Phil couldn't make her change her feelings about you. What a mess!"
"Honey, I wish you'd let me talk to Eve. I understand her and she'd listen to me — "
"That would only make it worse, and it's bad enough already. Gossip can be pretty vicious, in a town like this. The only thing we can hope for is that they'll patch it up, somehow . . ." The phone rang again. "More bad news, I suppose. I'll take it this time."
When he came back from the hall, his face wore a peculiar expression. "And that was Mrs. Ashbey. What a vocabulary she's got!" .
"What did she want?"
"To skin me alive. To drop me in boiling oil. She told me I'd rue the day I took a little child from a poor, helpless old woman."'
"You mean she threatened you?"
"She tried to. But don't worry, honey. There's nothing she can do. Lawyers are always having disgruntled people after them. She's just sore from losing all that money."
"Oh, honey, I am worried. First, Eve — and now this. Why can't people leave us alone — just when we were beginning to be happy again? If only—"
"Let's not think about ijs, Joan."
At his bleak tone, she looked up. She thought of all his hours of work, his brilliant handling of the case. He had deserved the fruits of his victory and they had been taken away. She tried to pump some gaiety in her voice when she answered.
"You're right. Let's not think about any of it. Let's go celebrate!"
"Yes," Harry echoed hollowly, "let's go — celebrate . . ."
Joan lived with a strange sort of j foreboding the next few days. She i tried to dismiss it as silly and melo ! dramatic, but it lurked persistently under the surface of her thoughts. It I was as if forces over which she had no control were at work against her. I
fennijlOise
says...
CTOCKINGS and socks pulled on ** and off by the toes wear longer than when tugged by their tops. Teach the "littlest one" to treat socks gently —
Careful handling of stockings will ease the strain on silk supplies and save you money to invest in War Savings Stamps! War Needs Money!
True to his promise, Phil did not get in touch with her. But she heard of him through her mother. Mrs. Field held an agitated telephone conversation with her nearly every day, and Joan wryly told Harry it was like receiving daily bulletins from a battle front.
Phil wanted a divorce, Mrs. Field said, but so far Eve refused to give it to him. Eve was behaving, she said, as if she were out of her senses. She had passed her the other morning in her car on the road from the Ridge, and Eve had been doing at least seventy miles an hour and around all those curves, too. She had been seen at a wayside tavern the other night, drinking with that fast Fletcher couple. "If you ask me," Mrs. Field went on, "Phil will soon have reason to divorce her. Oh, Joan, if you'd only listened to me in the first place. You and Phil would have been so happy together and now the poor boy is utterly wretched."
Joan shut her ears when her mother talked like that.
She could not shut her ears, though, when Mrs. Field told her of Eve's latest escapade. "She went to the dance at the Club last night because she knew Phil was going to be there. And she publicly accused him of wanting a divorce because of you. She said right out that you were the cause of their breaking up!"
"And the whole Club heard?"
"Of course they did!" her mother shrilled. "I've gotten it from all sides this morning. Joan, you must do something. This is the last straw."
"I will do something," Joan said through white lips.
Her small chin set at a determined angle, she hurried the six blocks to the Stanley cottage.
She hardly recognized the girl who opened the door. All of Eve's fire and impetuousness seemed to have gone
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