Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

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At stores which sell foilef (innrfc ..^««g»S9j^. 25< for 5 rinses 10f for 2 rinses Time meant nothing to Peggy, then. Time had stopped. Everything had stopped. The painful, wracking sobs wore away. "Peggy," there was a soft touch on her shoulder and Peggy looked up into her mother's face. "Peggy, dear," her mother said softly, "Carter wants to talk to you — on the phone." "Oh," Peggy gasped. "No — no, 1 can't!" "It's all right, dear," her mother said. "Carter says it's all right." Peggy jumped out of the chair. She had no idea how she had come to be sitting there. Her knees were shaky, but she felt alive again. She went toward the phone and it seemed to take ages to get there. "Carter — oh, darling," she cried into the phone. "I'm so sorry — I — Pepper didn't know — I was so afraid — " "It's all right, darling," she heard Carter's voice saying. "I've just talked to my father in Chicago. He — isn't very angry — just surprised. You mustn't worry. I love you, Peggy." "Oh, Carter — are you sure, darling," she murmured into the phone, "are you sure he's not angry?" "Yes," Carter said. But it was the way he laughed, softly, reassuringly, that really made her feel better. "I've got to hang up, now, darling — I'll see you as soon as I can." Peggy hung up. She found she had to sit down quickly. Her terror had been unbearable, but her relief was almost worse. Peggy realized that she was a little frightened, now. For now she knew how much she really loved Carter, how little life would mean to her if she lost him. The phone rang again, this time with the two short rings of the Long Distance operator. Peggy picked up the receiver automatically. If Mrs. Young had known how desperately Peggy wanted everything to be all right and how much this desire of Peggy's would color her reactions, she would never have let Peggy carry on that conversation. But Mrs. Young didn't know that. All she knew was that Peggy had quieted down and was speaking normally and calmly into the phone. "Yes," she heard Peggy say. "This is Peggy Young. Chicago?" And Mrs. Young saw her daughter's gray eyes widen with surprise and alarm. Then Peggy listened a moment and Mrs. Young saw fright and relief and pleasure flitting across her face, as she spoke and listened by turns. Peggy hung up, finally, and jumped to her feet. "Mother!" she cried. "They're coming here — tomorrow! The Trents are coming here to see me. Me! Oh, Mother!" Peggy hugged her mother fiercely. "Darling, they can't be so angry, after all, can they?" "Are you sure?" Mrs. Young asked. "What did Mr. Trent say?" "Of course, I'm sure," Peggy cried and her voice was like singing. "Mr. Trent? It wasn't Mr. Trent. It was his secretary. He — oh, I'm all mixed up, I'm so happy. He didn't say anything. He just said he wanted to be sure I'd be home tomorrow and I said I would be and then he said fine and to expect them and not to tell Carter about this. I guess they want to surprise him, too." Peggy danced around happily. "Gosh!" she laughed. "I didn't think I could be so happy." She caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. "Gee, I look fierce." Peggy ran up stairs. And, a few minutes later, hearing her singing, Mrs. Young was grateful for the recuperative powers of the young. Mrs. Young herself felt tired and worn by all the excitement. And she knew she couldn't afford to be tired. There was so much to do, if they were going to have such important guests the next day. As always, Mrs. Young found work a quieting influence. She made Peggy go to school in the afternoon and she and Hattie set about cleaning up the living room, waxing, polishing, beating rugs, planning a tea menu and changing it every few minutes. Once, while she was arranging flowers, she thought of Mr. Walters and what he had said about having to sell the house, and her heart floundered and went still, for a moment. She looked around the room then, and it didn't seem right to her that they should ever have to leave this place. She and Sam had come there when they were married. It was a part of their life together. JUST then the front door burst open and Peggy and Edie were there and Mrs. Young blinked the unshed tears out of her eyes. Peggy mustn't know about this, she thought. None of them must know — not now, not yet. And, in the general excitement of the rest of that day and most of the next, Mrs. Young had little time to think of it herself. There were things to be ordered and a cake to bake. As the day wore on, Mrs. Young found the waiting a strain. They had no idea what time the Trents were arriving. Peggy got home at threethirty, a little giddy and a great deal upset, because Edie had told her that society people didn't have big cakes with tea. Then Edie arrived herself and insisted that Peggy ought to change from her school blouse and skirt into something more grown up looking. Mrs. Young sighed and sent the two girls upstairs, wishing for once that Edie had stayed away. The doorbell rang. For one panicstricken moment, Mrs. Young wondered whether she should let Hattie open the door. The next instant she was walking into the hall, scolding herself for even thinking of putting on airs for the Trents. She opened the door and found herself looking into the face of a tall, distinguished looking man. He took off his hat and bowed stiffly. "Mrs. Young?" Mrs. Young smiled and put out her hand. "How do you do, Mr. Trent?" she said graciously. "Won't you come in?" She looked past him. "Didn't Mrs. Trent come with you? The man frowned. "I am not Mr. Trent, madame." "Oh," Mrs. Young smiled hesitantly. Then, she laughed lightly. "I'm sorry, I made a mistake. We're expecting some guests and I thought — " "I am Mr. Trent's attorney," the man said. "My name is Taylor." "I — I don't understand — " Mrs. Young found herself saying. She stared at him, at his expressionless face, and there was something guarded and cold in his eyes that filled her with a sense of foreboding. 72 Something is very wrong when parents send a lawyer to see their son's fiancee instead of coming themselves! What message has Mr. Taylor come to deliver? Be sure to read the next instalment of this delightful serial in the October Radio Mirror. RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR