Radio and television mirror (Nov 1939-Apr 1940)

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For generous FREE trial bottle, write to Pertussin, Dept S-19, 440 Washington St., N. Y. C. 86 I have the word of the most eminent eye-specialist in New York that I'm on the mend. We came East a few weeks ago. Of course I can't make pictures now. June 6th . . . Grant wants to adopt Dick and Fran. He wants them, and the baby who is coming, to have an equal right in his estate. It's so wonderfully understanding and generous of him. June 15th . . . The most glorious thing has happened! Bill has been cleared of that thirty thousand dollar embezzlement for which he went to prison. The man who really took the money died — and left a letter behind him. It appears Bill deliberately took the blame, because he was deeply in love with this man's daughter and because he thought his father would make up the loss and that would be that. He didn't know banks never let a crime go unpunished. July 15th . . . Grant's Uncle Arthur is here visiting us at the Cummings estate on Long Island. I should be terribly happy, here in the midst of all this loveliness. But I keep thinking of Aunt May as one of those black clouds that cover the sun. Ever since she came there has been tension in this house. Dick and Fran have done a turnabout regarding their adoption. In fact, they became so hysterical on this score that I had to promise them Grant would drop the matter. "Don't want to make trouble," Ben Porter told me, "but I heard Auntie May talking to the children in the rose garden. 'You poor tots,' she told them, 'you don't really know what's going to happen to you when you're adopted, do you? Mr. Cummings will have the right to send you away when he's your real father. With a child of his very own he'll want to do that, too. And your mother won't be able to stop him.' " July 16th .. . I went to Aunt May. I told her I knew about the trouble she had made because she didn't want my children to become Grant's legal heirs and jeopardize her portion of the Cummings fortune. I asked her to go away. But she laughed at me. I saw Grant coming across the lawn. I grasped the back of a basket chair. I fainted! "You were having words with Brenda," Grant accused Aunt May. "You were exciting her when the doctor has repeatedly insisted she must be kept quiet. Aunt May, I'll have to ask you to leave. At once!" How do I know what he said if I fainted? Well, to tell the truth— I hadn't. I was acting! And when Aunt May and Uncle Arthur have gone and things have returned to normal I mean to tell Grant all about that faint! October 4th . . . There may have been worse days. . . . There may have been worse storms. . . . But I doubt it. Marion, my secretary-companion, and I went for an innocent little drive. Trees crashed around us. Rain dug holes in the country roads. We lost our way. And as we drove through the dark, blinding rain, some of the fury of the storm took hold of me . . . and I knew we must find a dry place for my baby to be born. God will provide. We were miles from any village or hospital. But the shack in which we took refuge belonged to an engineer who was a radio amateur, with a small sending apparatus. He sent out calls for a doctor. And a doctor came! So did Grant. For the police radio car in which he was riding around the island trying to locate Marion and me picked up the S.O.S. As soon as it was possible Grant moved the baby and me home. Grant Junior now is ensconced in his pretty nursery. And I'm spending day after day in the quiet of my room trying to regain some of the strength that ordeal cost me. October 5th . . . I'm worried about Dick and Fran. The doctor has insisted I see no one, and Grant, frantic with worry over me, won't let them in my room. The baby is brought in, naturally. I have to nurse him. The baby is brought in. But Fran and Dick are kept out! There trouble lies. For every time the door opens — almost — I can see their little forms waiting, waiting, waiting in the hallway. Children are such funny little creatures. So easily hurt, so easily frightened. If only I could talk to them and make them understand! October 6th .. . I've had a long talk with Dick and Fran. Grant asked the doctor's permission. "You know," he told me, "when I saw them standing in the hall last night, watching the nurse bring Grant Junior in to you, my heart went out to them." Now that Grant has a child of his own he has more tolerance for childishness, is more sensitive to young thoughts and young fears. December . . . Life goes on. . . . A dozen things at least have happened since I last wrote. Some good, some otherwise . . . But I'm beginning to see that just as it is only Time that brings problems, so it is only Time that can solve them. My second marriage still cannot be rated an unqualified success. There still are those times when I feel as if I must divide myself between Grant and Grant Junior and Dick and Fran in order to keep them all satisfied. There still are misunderstandings and rough spots in the road. Just now it looks as if all of Grant's fortune is gone, swept away in the European war. I don't really care about that — what I do care about is Grant's health, which is precarious since the financial strain began. But I am learning to put my trust in myself — to meet problems as they come, do my best to surmount them, try to feel secure in the knowledge that our love has weathered other storms and will no doubt weather more. "Time will take care of everything, Honey," Ben Porter has often told me. And so it will. But it depends upon what we do with our time how Time will take care of things. And with that in mind there's only one thing to do . . . carry on, hoping, believing, loving. The End Listen to Brenda Cummings' further adventures in Second Husband, starring Helen Menken, every Tuesday evening over the CBS network. RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR