Radio and television mirror (May-Oct 1940)

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He didn't like me, but for a little while he loved me. I was a woman and I was here, and I would have let him cut me into little pieces — that was enough for Rand. I think my being — the way I am — interested him. He knew he was the first man to kiss me. "I lived in a dream through those days. I couldn't eat; I couldn't sleep. I was on fire. I'd rather have had it — " she began forcefully, and suddenly stopped and fell silent again. "Well, I had it," she presently resumed. "For a few days, for less than a few weeks, a man loved me. "I know there'll always be girls — always be some one admiring him, spoiling him," the iron voice, carefully kept unemotional, went on. "He can't help it; he doesn't like it, half the time. But when we are married, and living in China, that won't matter." I T was all so horribly sad, Page ' thought. She said aloud, "Don't go on saying things like that — don't go on being frustrated and bitter and useless and not loved! Nobody'U think of you as older or unusual, or anything." "I don't believe I'll ever feel sure and loved and safe like most wives," Flora said. "I'd do without that. But before I'd let him marry anyone else I'd kill him, and myself too. It's all I have left!" Page was silent for awhile, lookmg at the other woman thoughtfully. Flora returned her look with one of smouldering proud self-defense. "This is my advice to you," Flora said, with a strange reluctant urgency. "When you go up to town on Monday with Rand, stay there. Don't come back here! I'm not saying this because I'm jealous," she added harshly. "I am jealous, but it isn't that. I'm saying it because this is a bad place for a girl." "Wouldn't the simpler way be," Page said, "to see what I can do with Lynn — " she lowered her voice, glanced about, "about the diamond? Tomorrow, any day, he might simply hand it to me. Then I can give it to Mrs. Prendergast, and it's all settled. Then I go back to San Francisco, and you and Rand go to China after you've settled her in the East. It doesn't seem to me," Page finished, "that there's anything dangerous in that plan. Is there?" "Oh, it's all so mixed up!" Flora said in a whisper. "Don't worry about me, Flora," Page said. "I'm all right, really I am. Things — things aren't as bad as you think! If I can get Lynn to — to do what Mrs. Prendergast wants him to, and if you all break up here soon, maybe before Christmas, you'll get rested, you'll have a change, you'll need new clothes and things for your trousseau, and for China — that'll all be fun!" "Trousseau!" Flora echoed, in a scornful, bitter undertone. But for a moment she was softened. She put her pipe-stem arm partly about Page in an awkward unwonted embrace. "Don't go away," she said, in a whisper. "Stay here! We're all better when you're here! Nothing'll happen to vou!" Rand, rgoing into San Francisco for a day and a night, had suggested that Page go along, and Mrs. Pendergast gave her permission. It was a thrilling variation to the routine of the endless first month to tuck herself in beside Rand in his car, and watch the hills and the sea slip away, and start for the long grade that rose eastward from Half-moon Bay. It was a clear winter morning. For awhile Page was quiet in sheer felicity. After a time she spoke from her own thoughts. "Did you tell me, the day you met me at Belmont, that Mrs. Prendergast has a sister?" "Yes; she has a sister; Mrs. Roy — Fanny. She was a Mrs. Watts, a rich widow; she married a swami some years ago, and the Duchess never forgave her. She writes occasionally from somewhere near Lahore, but the old lady doesn't answer." "Had Mrs. Roy children?" "Yes, I believe she has a daughter, married." Page had not forgotten Mrs. Hibbs, that Alysse Watts Hibbs whose concern for her aunt's millions and her aunt's diamond had started her, Page Hazeltyne, upon this fantastic adventure. They had crossed the big grade now, and were moving smoothly along the level roads between Belmont and the city. "Rand," Page said suddenly, "I want to say something to you. I think I will! Flora — did you know that Flora thinks she is engaged to you?" She had expected him to deny it, but instead he was quite silent for a full half minute. "In a way she's right," he said then. THAT you are engaged!" Page's ' tone was all incredulity. "I thought, of course — I never dreamed—" she stammered. A great desolation pervaded her soul. Somehow, Rand had failed her. "In those first days of sickness and confusion," Rand began, "she and I were consulting — arranging — up nights and eating meals whenever we could — well," he broke off in a bitter tone, "there never was any excuse for it! But she was so small, and so forlorn.— I'm not defending myself," he ended. "You mean you — made love to her!" "She took it that way. I'm not sure she wasn't right," the man said, with an embarrassed, angry half-laugh. "We were alone together, day after day. I began to — to jolly her up. 'Never mind, Flora,' I'd say to her, 'we'll get out of here some day, and go to China. You and I'll see it through, and some day we can live the way we want to!' She was little, and a woman," he finished, "and I knew — I knew how she felt about me!" He stopped short, and there was a silence. Page felt a sense of disillusionment. Men were men, of course, and she herself was not a child. She had even dreamed — well, not of marrying Rand exactly; that is, she had not seriously thought of marrying Rand. But he was fine looking; he was intelligent and kindly and — yes, fascinating. Flora loved him, the old lady was romantically jealous of her doctor. And Page was fancy free, and she would be twenty-seven in March! RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR