Newspapers / Zebulon Record (Zebulon, N.C.) / July 30, 1937, edition 1 / Page 13
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The Others stood at the loot of the hill watching the little figure skim down the hill Uk# a bird of brilliant plum&gp. She waa comipg along fine when something went wrong. The horrified eyes of those watching her saw her swerve, fall and crash into a tree near the hllL They started up the hill, eyes on the motionless figure in its flaming orange costume; like a splash of vivid sunset against the white snow. “She doesn’t get up—she’s hurt," Mar cia said swiftly. But she spoke to Ken, for Ted’s long legs were outdistancing her and Ken. Polly opened her eyes; whose arms were holding her so convulsively? She lifted her head. “Ted?” she asked won deringly. “Polly, are you badly hurt? Darling, are you in pain?" he cried frantically. Polly’s eyes were dazed as she looked at Ted’s gray, strained face. “I’m all right, Ted. The breath was knocked out of me, that’s all. I don’t hurt any place." He gave an inarticulate little sound, held her hard against his breast. “When I saw you crash against that tree some thing died in me, Polly ” “And something bloomed, too," she murmured, face against his. “Yes,” he said eagerly. “Polly, I never knew I loved you so —terribly. Nothing else matters, darling. If you’ll have me, I’ll work for you. I’ll get a Job; you watch. I’ll go places— in time ” “Well— evidently Polly wasn’t hurt," came Marcia’s voice. An astonished voice with an incredulous thread in it. Polly drew away from Ted’s arms. They had forgotten Marcia! “Are you two ’that way’ about eaoft other? But what an unnecessary ques tion.” Ted released Polly’s sturdy little shoes from the broken skis, helped her to her feet and stood with his arm around her. “I never knew I loved her so much— until— is it all right with you, Marcia?” Marcia looked keenly from one face to the other, then down the hill ,at Ken, who was making slow headway, for Ken was a bit overweight. “So I’m a jilted woman, am I?’* She looked at Ted and chuckled. “I’m glad you discovered your lov for Polly before LohengTin pealed over our heads. It’s all right, Ted; in fact, it’s right as rain. Polly will put some ambition in you.” i tiyrARCIA, you're a brick!” Polly cried unsteadily. Her eyes were lumi nous, her cheeks, lips like poppies. “Love agrees with you, Polly. I think I’ll wait for something like that. After all ’’ Marcia looked thoughtfully across the white and shining landscape. “Well, well.” Ken puffed, “you’re not hurt, Polly? That’s good news.” “Congratulate Ted, you porpoise,’’ Mar cia commanded gayly. “I’m going to be bridesmaid again.” Polly’s and Ted’s eyes held like a caught breath— in each other’s eyes they saw their love marching like a victorious army, banners flying. ecstatic little smile, for at the corner of Ted’s mouth was a tiny red mark. Snow began to drift soft as fleece from a black sky. Gently it spread its pure white blanket over the frozen ground. Late April was playing tricks at this mountain resort. With an artist’s love of beauty it covered every ugly thing and gave bushes an exquisite robe of fairy white. It brushed against the windows as though peering in at that sleeping household. The next morning its advent was hailed Joyously. “Snow! ’’ they shouted as though they had never seen that lovely miracle before. "Sledding today Ted, you steer. Dick, you be end-maa. Marcia, we can christen your new bobsled. Three cheers for good ole’ snow.” " It was fun whizzing down from the top of that long hill, trudging up again, but there was little opportunity to see Ted alone. Polly reflected. At luncheon he sat beside Marcia’s mother. Not once did he look her way. After luncheon they sprawled around the fireplace for an hour, then piled in a two-seated sleigh, drawn by a farmer’s horse, and drove gayly over the snow laden lanes singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of their lusty young voices. Ted drove and Marcia, in a thick white sweater, beret and white wool skirt was crowded close beside him. “This is the life!” Ken shouted. “The great outdoors. Freedom, space ” "You idiot,” Ted chuckled, “we’re in the Maine Hills. You’re thinking of thff great untamed places— if any.” IT WAS all very gay, very Jolly, but there was a decided letdown for Polly. She was in the second seat “and playing second fiddle,” she told herself with a little twist of her lips. Marcia was in the spotlight today. She didn’t regret in the least when they turned back to the house. Tea time now* Surely Ted would put a chair beside her own. But apparently Ted did not care for tea. “So long,” he called. "See you All at cocktails,” and Polly heard him taking the stairs two at a time. Later, Marcia came into her room, walked around restlessly, picked up a book, put it down, straightened some flowers in a vase and finally said, ab ruptly: “I’m engaged, Polly. But don’t men tion it. I’m announcing it at a dinner when we go back to town. And I want you to come.” Silently Polly looked at her. Where was the luminous quality of a Just-en gaged girl? "Are you happy about it, Marcia?" “Well— I’m not unhappy. It’s time I’m getting married and of all the men who have asked me I think I will hit it off better with Ted than any other. Ted. A sword lifted itself with Invisible hands and pierced Polly’s heart PIC :ame Marcia’s voice. “Are you two it each other?’’ Would it be quick and warm and sweet, as was her own heartbeat? In one of the big double living rooms the rugs had been rolled back, the furni ture pushed against the walls. The radio was beginning its dance program. And Ted was hurrying across the room to her. Her heart shook when she heard his footsteps on the bare floor. He reached for her and she went into his arms. Yes, her head Just touched his heart. A heart that was making a clamor. No doubt there was music from the radio, but she danced to her own hidden music. The movements of their young bodies was as poetry caught in action. <fyOU dance well.” She lifted starry -*• brown eyes to his, tilting back her head that she might see him. “When I go to bed tonight,” he smiled at her, “I’ll say ‘Amen’ to a perfect day.” “Why perfect?” Her eyes were pro vocative. “You know the answers, Polly.” She had no reply to that, for some one said: “Please,” and she was whisked from Ted’s arm. “Darn it,” Polly t stormed silently, "breaking in on a Perfect Moment!” When she danced with Ted again, she could not recapture that moment. He was Impersonal; it was as though the petals had fallen from a lovely rose and the rose lay bare, stripped of beauty. At midnight they had a buffet supper, each guest filling his and her plate with the thing they fancied and bringing it to the living room where a three-foot log blazed on the hearth. It was cheery and cozy in that big room. Supper over, some one began to tell ghost stories and Ted, grinning, snapped out the lights. The glowing firelight shone on those sprawling near the hearth, but the comers of the big room were veiled with shaddto. Polly, who had been sitting in one of those corners, rose, intending to go nearer to the firelight. Ken certainly was telling a shivery tale. She felt her self seized in strong young arms, felt lips against her own in a kiss-hungry, clinging, burning with magic fire. As suddenly as she had been seized she was released. She fell into the chair behind her. as a vague, shadowy shape moved away swiftly. She could not see where it went. When Polly had regained her breath, she fumbled through the darkness to the flrehjht. Swiftly she looked at the men. Was Ted among them? She saw him sitting on the floor by the hearth, face raised to Ken, listening to Ken’s tale. Polly smiled. A secret “Well, evidently Polly len’t hurt,” ei ’that way’ about "Father is dead, crashed in a plane. His mother lives in London with the daughter, Lady Harriet Beechfleld. She married her title before finances went haywire —fortunately.” Polly rose, threw her cigarette in the grate and yawned. “Time to dress,” she observed, looking at the silver clock on Marcia’s desk. Marcia threw an arm over Polly’s shoulders. She was fond of Polly. Too bad they had drifted apart. In the future she intended to keep a tighter rein on their friendship. Ask Polly to a lot of parties. This crowd here had opened their arms to the girl, had rated Polly was a knockout. So gay, friendly and. of all rare things, frank she was. “I’m going to pick out a man for you, Polly. I want you to marrry money,” Marcia said as Polly turned to the door. Polly made a little face at her. “See you later.” The door closed behind her. On her way to her room she thought, “Thanks, Marcia, but I’ve picked my own man, and he’ll go to work, too. Bonds, insurance, real estate— there’s lots of things that young man can do. and he’ll do it, too —when he has the incentive.” She laughed softly, nodded across the hall at the room Ted occupied and said: “You don’t know I’m going to make myself your incentive, uo you, darling?” pOLLY gave a last complacant look in the mirror. She nodded her head to the girl who looked back at her. “You look pretty nifty tonight. But you ought to. When you think of what that gown cost you ought to get heart failure —spendthrift.” Ted was in the big living room, as most of them were, when she came to the archway, stood poised, looking over the room. Ted’s gaze winged to her own and they stood a moment, faces still, eyes deep in each other's. Then some one rushed to her with a cocktail and others came in and dinner was announced. Marcia had annexed Ted, but at least he sat opposite her, and the flowers ar ranged in low bowls made no obstruc tion. How well he looked in dinner clothes! How high he held that fine blond head! Polly literally had to tear her eyes away from him. She looked at the table with its service. Lively to live like this. She had almost forgotten how lovely it was. Dinner went gayly to its end. Dancing would start now. Imo*» H «r.tly Polly waited lor that first dance —for Ted's arm around her and her head against his heart. She wanted to hear its beat. Polly was running down the stairs. He gave one look at the radiant girl clad in a flaming orange sport suit and his heart turned over. The girls, Marcia and Polly, sat in Marcia’s room that evening. They had a few minutes before dressing time and were recalling school days. The topic finished, Marcia asked lazily: "Why don’t you marry, Polly? It’s a crime, a girl like you slaving away ” "Crime! Well— they haven’t sent me up for it," Polly laughed. “And, anyway, I won’t marry Just any man. I’m waiting for a man to carve his name on my heart." <<T OVE?" Marcia asked scornfully. “There are many better reasons for marriage than love.” “It will be the only reason for my marriage, when I do.” Polly thought of Ted's fine face, of uis long, graceful body; of *his lazy, laughing voice; nis eyes that held the blue fire, the blue ot ice, and a little song trembled in her veins, sang in her heart. “It’s time I’m getting married, Marcia was saying. “I’ve been brides maid seven times to girls all my own age. I’m becoming a joke.” She pulled a cigarette end from her long jade holder and tossed it on an ashtray. “Which of the men here do you like the best, Polly?” “They’re a fine bunch. I like them all,” Polly said guardedly. “But I think Ted Brooks is outstand ing, don’t you?” Marcia persisted. ’ Well, the best looking.” "Oh, that! Every one raves over Ted's looks. But he has everything else — except money. He's flat. Everybody knows it and no one cares. Ted is Ted. He has ten times as many invitations as he can accept, week-ends, house parties, yachting cruises —everything. I imagine his living doesn’t cost him a cent.” “What does he do?” Polly asked with careful carelessness. “What do you mean ‘do’?" Marcia asked sharply. "Work? Ted has no profession, never worked a day in his life. He was raised as a rich man's son— haven’t you heard of him. Polly? You're so out of things since you went in that old office." Polly had a fleeting thought. Marcia in her luxurious, effortless living must think money was to be picked from bushes. How in the name of heaven was she —Polly— to live if she didn’t work? “No, 1 haven’t heard of him. I never read the society pages any more. But why shouldn’t Ted work? He could do something. He's Harvard, he said.” “I can imagine Ted Brooks standing m some man’s office, hat in hand, asking for a Job." Marcia said dryly. “How do his parents live?” Polly asked crisply. rn* 3 aay. inr nuitcn hit; ski* ting. fling of Old Man Winter, "Who is pn4lng us a belated visit. I'm her guest.*. Answer to the name of Edward Broofcs — sfed. to you.” He shot a swift smile at Polly And that smile, those fiery-blu« eyes did something to Polly, made her heart behave ridiculously. The car became a thing of shining silvery wings singing in the wind. "How does it happen I never met you before?'* Ted demanded. "My error, but how in time did I make It? Where have you been —abroad?" A thread of pure gold ran through Polly s laugh. "Abroad, my eye!" she sa ; d elegantly. "I'm no lily of the field. I'm a business gal." He was silent with surprise. Then: he asked, grinning at her. “The answer Is old. Ladies must live. And now you are wondering why am I bound for a house party on Thursday when 1 should be in the office?” The velvet-brown eyes glinted at him. "Well— people will die. you know, and that's what my boss did. The offices of Breton Advertising are closed until Mon day, and Polly Ayers, secretary to the late president, is going to have four days of play." She saw that he 'still was curious— or—interested Marcia, of bourse, had never spoken of her— why should she? “Marcia and 1 went to Miss Patterson's School. Since graduation my road made a detour. Marcia and I, living different lives, haven't seen much of. each other. Last week in town we ran into each other —literally —she almost knocked me down, she was going places in a hurry, and she asked me here for the party. I Intended to come Saturday but wired her last night that I could come today " Ted's mind was busy. Miss Patterson’s School. Sure. Polly was a little thor oughbred. any one could see that. No doubt her fathei had taken a swell beating— like his father had— Polly was in an office now, and gay about it. No self-pity there. Swell girl. More guts than he had. Oh, well “Listen, Polly, the first dance tonight is mine, see?" “All right,' her voice glowed. "Don't forget. I don't want a campaign promise. There's going to be a stampede when the other fellows see you." "Poof!” she scoffed. "Don't feed me that." “There's only one of you, Polly Ayers." He turned in the wide graveled drive. Ahead lay the country house, a wide, rambling house built of wood. As she mounted the steps in the wake ot a manservant who Carried her bag. Ted drove his car to the garage. When he had shut off the ignition he sat staring at the bare wall ahead of him. Finally he shook his head. His eyes were stripped of laughter and his lips were grim. "She's not for me." He drew a deep breath, repeated the words aloud. They seemed to hang in the still garage with painful finality. Ten minutes passed, still Ted sat in his car staring at the wail that stared back at him with blank eyes. Finally he put shining dreams behind him, left the garage. When he entered the wide old .hall. o O be .o §
Zebulon Record (Zebulon, N.C.)
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July 30, 1937, edition 1
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