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Carter laughed. "I don't have to ask their permission," he said. "I'll tell them this weekend — when they've met you." "I'll have to tell my father and mother," Peggy said. And she realized suddenly that all the while she had worried so about Carter's parents, it had never occurred to her to wonder how her own father and mother would feel. She was sure they knew that her feelings for Carter were serious. But did they know how serious? Or would they be surprised — and — perhaps disapproving? As a matter of fact, the possibility of Peggy's getting married was so remote from Mrs. Young's mind, that she scarcely paid attention, when Edie dropped in to tell her Peggy would be a little late. Mrs. Young smiled absently at Edie's sighing and hinting at great events. She thought, a little impatiently, that sometimes Edie's romantic ideas were a bit trying. That afternoon, Mrs. Young was thinking of other things. She was worried about her husband. Sam wasn't looking well. Mrs. Young knew what was wrong with him. She had watched this thing growing in him for a long time, this sense of failure and insecurity. She remembered, a little sadly and wistfully, the time when he had had to sell their house to cover some business losses. She sighed, remembering how depressed she had been then, how terrible everything had seemed. Now, she realized that had been only the beginning. They had gone on living in the house, renting it from the new owner. Sam had recovered from his feeling of having failed his family and had reattacked his work, spurred on by the desire to buy back the house quickly. But it had not worked out that way. Eventually, Sam and his partner, Curt Bradley, had had to face the facts. Their real estate business was almost bankrupt and the only wise thing was to close up shop and wait for better times. Mrs. Young knew how big a decision this had been for them to make. And she had watched them, two helpless, bewildered men, who didn't know where to turn. For weeks, they had tried to find work, only to discover they were considered too old. And she had seen the look of bewilderment in their eyes replaced ' by a look of fear and hopelessness. Curt had got a job first — a good job in Chicago. Sam had been almost as happy as if he were the lucky one. And, for a few weeks after Curt went off to Chicago, leaving his son, Biff, in Mrs. Young's care, Sam had faced the world with renewed courage. If Curt could make a fresh start at his age, Sam had felt there was a chance for him, too. His spirits were so much better and he seemed to recapture so much of his former initiative, that he had even made a small real estate sale. But then, as time passed and Sam couldn't get a job, the alert, vital good humor went out of his eyes and his shoulders began to droop pathetically. He slept poorly and, although he pretended to be his old self when he was with his family, Mrs. Young would catch him unawares, sometimes, and see him staring dully into space, like a man who thinks his life is over. She wanted to help him, yet she knew she must not let him see that his pretense was not fooling her. The door, slamming downstairs, interrupted her thoughts. A moment later, Pepper's cheerful whistle was ringing through the house. Mrs. Young went to the head of the stairs and called to him. "Hi, Mom!" he yelled to her. "I've got to go back to the airfield for awhile tonight — just came in for a snack." "Come up here, dear," Mrs. Young said. "I need you." Pepper took the stairs two at a time, as he had done since he was a small boy. Mrs. Young smiled. There were so many little boy things about Pepper, in spite of his being twenty and having given up school to work as a ground mechanic at the airport. "Well, Mom?" Pepper grinned, kissing her cheek. "What's up? You got troubles?" "Yes — " Mrs. Young said, not quite Continued on page 69 SEPTEMBER, 1942