Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

quiet house. She was surprised to find that there were tears in her eyes. She was glad of one thing — that Sam had gone to Chicago before Mr. Walters got a chance to see him. At least, he had been spared this one, last blow. And she was determined that he must not find out about this, not until he was better able to face it. She touched a match to the fire in the living room and watched the flames leap up, casting their wavering shadows about the room. She sat down in Sam's big chair and relaxed. "Mother?" Mrs. Young sat up with a start and realized she must have dozed off. "Hi, Mum," Pepper said. "I didn't mean to wake you." "That's all right, dear," Mrs. Young said. "Peggy's out late." OEPPER laughed. "They can't think ■* about time, now." Mrs. Young smiled at her son. "Mother," he went on, "I want to ask you something — I mean, show you something." He went out to the hall and returned with a large flat box. "Think Pegs will like this?" He unwrapped a large red leather purse. "I wanted to get her something — you know, something to make her feel good when she goes to Chicago to meet the Trents. I remembered she said she'd love a red bag to match her hat." "It's beautiful, Pepper," Mrs. Young said. She took the bag from him and examined all the extra fittings inside. She smiled. "She'll hardly need to pack another thing." Then, she frowned. "Pepper, this is an expensive bag. Where did you get the money?" "I earned it," Pepper said proudly. "Behold, the scribe!" "The what?" Mrs. Young asked. Pepper grinned. "Well, I figured the newspapers might as well get the right kind of story about Peggy's engagement, so I — Mother! What's the matter?" "Pepper!" Mrs. Young cried. "Are you telling me that you told the newspapers about Peggy's engagement?" Pepper nodded feebly. "Did I do something wrong?" "Wrong? Oh, Pepper," Mrs. Young whispered. And she told him about Mr. Trent's hatred for publicity. "Well, gee!" Pepper said. "How was I to know?" "We've got to stop it from appearing," Mrs. Young said. "Call Mr. Goodwin, at once, Pepper." Pepper ran to the phone, but there was no answer at the offices of the Free Press. They tried Mr. Goodwin's home, only to learn that the editor had gone to Chicago on business. Mrs. Young tried to reach the printer, but he was gone, too. "Mom, what'll we do?" Mrs. Young looked at him. All his grown up airs were gone and he was just a small boy again, frightened and worried. She brushed back his tousled hair. "We'll have to try again in the morning, dear." But it was too late in the morning. They didn't know that while they slept the wires of the news services were humming all over the country. They had no idea of the uproar in the offices of the Chicago papers, where front pages were remade to feature the story and reporters were assigned to dig up old information on the Trents. They had no idea that, precisely because Mr. Trent always made it so difficult for the papers to get news about him, the editors were indulging in a Roman holiday at his expense. OEPPER was down for breakfast *■ early. He looked hopefully at his mother as he sat down. Mrs. Young shook her head sadly and nodded toward the folded paper by her plate. They both looked up as Peggy came into the room, her face fresh and lovely with happiness. She was fastening the clasp of a thin gold chain, on which she had strung her engagement ring. She smiled dreamily. "I couldn't bear to leave it in a drawer," she said. "I'll wear it inside my dress, Mother. That's all right, isn't it? No one will see it." Mrs. Young saw Pepper grit his teeth. "Sis," he said painfully, "I didn't know. I — gee — I was so glad and — " "What are you talking about?" Peggy asked. Mrs. Young felt infinitely sorry for her son and, yet, a little proud because of his courage. He swallowed miserably and handed Peggy the Elmwood Free Press. It was on the front page. It was almost the whole of the front page. There was an old picture of Peggy and one of Carter in his uniform. There was a short history of the Trent family. There was a much longer history of the Youngs. Peggy was not aware that the paper had slipped out of her fingers. She felt only a terrible pain and her heart had stopped beating and she couldn't breathe. Then, deep inside her, something went to pieces and she felt the sobs tearing at her. SMOKING MEANS INHALING. INHALING MEANS YOU NEED what PHILIP MORRIS alone provides! All smokers sometimes inhale. But— your throat needn't know it. Here's a vital difference you may not know exists. 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