Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

wonderful." "It's— Curt, I've got to talk to Sam." She paused. "Mr. Trent sent his lawyer down here to buy us off!" "What?" And Mrs. Young was surprised to hear that his voice sounded not so much shocked as amazed. "That's funny," he added. "Why?" Mrs. Young asked. "Sam's having dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Trent right now. He called them up as soon as the papers came out with the news of the engagement, and they invited him to dinner." "Oh, Curt, are you sure?" Mrs. Young asked weakly. "I — I don't understand. Why should they do that — after — after sending their lawyer here?" "I guess maybe they had a little time to think it over," Curt said reassuringly. "Maybe they've changed their minds. They must have. Sam said Mr. Trent sounded very friendly on the phone. Now don't worry, Mary. You know Sam. He'll straighten things out." Mrs. Young could feel herself relaxing. Curt must be right. He knew Sam almost as well as she did. They had been partners for years. They were good friends. Curt would have known if Sam were uneasy, or expecting trouble. "I hope you're right, Curt," she said. "Sure I am," Curt said. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, Mary. Is Biff there? I'd like to say hello to that scamp of mine. Has he been giving you any trouble? "No — no, he's been no trouble at all, Curt," Mrs. Young said. She found it a little hard to switch her thoughts to Curt's son. "He isn't home yet, Curt. I'm sorry. He'll be very disappointed when he hears he missed talking to you." "Well, tell him I may be down there soon." Curt sounded disappointed. "And tell him I have a swell surprise for him when I come." "I'll tell him, Curt," Mrs. Young said. She wondered, fleetingly, what brought such an expectant, strange quality into Curt's voice. But her own concerns were too pressing for her to think about that very long. "Curt, have Sam call me, will you?" "I'll do that," Curt said, "But don't worry, please." "Thanks, Curt," Mrs. Young said. She felt close to tears. "Goodby. Have Sam call me," she said again. "Mother," Pepper said anxiously, "what did Mr. Bradley say?" "I— I think it's all right," Mrs. Young said. "Your father's gone to see Mr. and Mrs. Trent. I'll tell you all about it later. I've got to go see Peggy now." CHE found Peggy stretched out on the bed staring up at the ceiling. Peggy's eyes were red and swollen and her face was tearstained. "Peggy," she said softly. There was no response. "Darling," she tried again, feeling a little helpless in the face of Peggy's misery. Mrs. Young sat down on the edge of the bed and took Peggy's hand. "Your father is having dinner right now with the Trents," she said to Peggy. She waited, not knowing what more to say. And at last Peggy took a deep breath and sighed. She turned her troubled misty gray eyes on her mother, "Oh, if it's only true," she whispered. "Mother, it's got to be true. I — I couldn't live, if it isn't!" Mrs. Young brushed the moist, blonde curls back from Peggy's tearstained cheeks. "Your father will straighten things out, dear," she said as reassuringly as she could. She took Peggy in her arms and sat there a long time, holding her close. It grew dark and still she sat there. Finally, she laid the girl down on the bed and covered her with a blanket, leaving her to sleep. All evening, Mrs. Young waited for Sam to phone. But the phone rang only once and then it was for Biff. At last, she checked with the operator. There had been no calls from Chicago. And there weren't any later, either, although she waited long past her usual bedtime. For the first time in years, Mrs. Young*was reluctant to face the new day. She lay in bed a long time the next morning, keeping her mind on all sorts of trivial things, the sunlight, the dust motes in it, the morning sounds from the street — anything but the day that lay ahead. And, when she finally did get downstairs, she found Pepper examining the morning mail, looking as though he had spent a sleepless night, too. "Nothing from Dad," he said dejectedly. They went into the dining room together. Pepper made a half hearted attempt to eat the breakfast Hattie brought him, but Mrs. Young couldn't touch it. She was just about to go and call Biff, when he came dashing downstairs noisily, his hair not quite combed, his eyes not quite rid of the heaviness of sleep. "Gosh!" he gasped. "I'll be late for school!" He tumbled into his chair and attacked his cereal. "You certainly will. And what would your father say to that?" Mrs. Young looked toward the door. It was Sam. His big, goodnatured face was calm. There was a smile in his eyes. He looked refreshed and confident. There was a frantic clatter of heels on the stairs and Peggy came running into the room. "I heard Daddy!" she cried. "He's here!" She threw herself into his arms and kissed him wildly. "What did they say? Oh, Daddy hurry! Tell me!" Sam Young held his daughter by the shoulders and looked down into her eyes seriously. "Peggy, dear," he said softly. "I don't know how to tell you this, except to be blunt. Believe me, you would never have been happy married to Carter and trying to live the kind of life the Trents live." "You mean — they haven't changed their minds?" Peggy asked and Mrs. Young was surprised to hear that she said it calmly, without a hint of hysteria. "No, Peggy. I mean I've changed my mind," Sam said. "I didn't even give them a chance to change theirs." Peggy looked puzzled, bewildered. Sam made her sit down and he held her hand all the while he was talking. Slowly, Mrs. Young began to see why Sam had returned from Chicago with such renewed courage and faith in himself. It wasn't only because he had seen his old friend, Curt, and helped him with a business problem or two. It was much more than that. He was sure of himself again, "because he had found a serious situation and he had discovered he could handle it. Continued on page 58 41