"The Melody Girl'

King Country Chronicle, Volume XXVI, Issue 3440, 8 March 1932, Page 6

"The Melody Girl'

CHAPTER XXlX.—(Continued)

"You fresh kid," Beryl smiled at him. "Wait a minute and I'll get you a copper." "Thanks, Miss John D." the boy said a moment later when he took a shining dime from her.

"It's all I've got," .Beryl said defensively, "and besides you only had to come a nickel's worth." Then she handed him another dime.

Her mother was standing behind her when she turned to go upstairs with the telegram. "Who's it for?" Mrs Everett asked.

"Irene," Beryl answered. "I'll take it up. Give it here," Mrs Everett said, reaching out her. hand. 4 "I want to talk to her," Beryl protested. "You'll do no such thing before she's had her breakfast. You had her so upset last night she could have cried."

"Maybe—if she'd been peeling onions," Beryl said unfeelingly.

Her mother snorted, and hurried upstairs. Irene was awake. "What in the world's all the commotion about?" she asked querulously when her mother opened her door.

"A telegram for you, honey. Maybe it's from Mr Gaylord." "Give it to me. And I think it might be better form if you said 'Prentiss' now."

Irene put out a soft chubby hand with finger nails that were brightly glossed. She took the telegram and tore it open quickly. Telegrams were too unusual in her life to be taken calmly. The message was considerably more than 10 words in length and she had read it through while her mother waited expectantly. Then Irene waved it over her head and cried excitedly, "Mama, just listen to thisl Talk about speed! This boy's got it." CHAPTER XXX. "Let me see it," Mrs Everett begged and Irene gave her the telegram. It was from Prentiss, informing Irene that he'd be out early that day to ask her parents to let her marry him immediately. His father, he said, had wired him to cut short his vacation and return home at once. He wouldn't go without her.

When Mrs Everett finished reading it she looked at Irene with a light of childish excitement in her usually vapid blue eyes.

"What are you going to do?" she cried.

Irene put up her arms and stretched lazily before she answered. Then, "I don't know," she said as though the matter were not really important. A faint frown creased her mother's forehead. She was thinking of Beryl —of her older daughter's implied threat to make trouble between Irene and Prentiss. She glanced at the telegram which she still held in her hand.

"I think you ought to do as he says," she said solemnly. "His father's a big man." Irene pouted. "I'm not going to have anyone arranging my affairs for me," she declared petulantly. "Especially an in-law." "But honey," her mother went on, "you have to consider what's best all around."

"I do not," Irene denied. "A girl has a right to make the plans for her own wedding. And I was thinking of something more elegant than a hur-ried-up affair. His father can just wait. Prentiss is entitled to a vacation." Her mother sighed. "He's had quite a nice one now, it seems to me," she said weakly. "You'll both get along much better if you don't start by turning his father against you." "H'm," Irene remarked. "You talk as though you'd be glad to get rid of me." Her mother let this pass. She did not wish to be driven to reveal Beryl's opposition, not, at least, while there was a chance she could make Beryl suppress it. "You know things can happen," she said suggestively. "If you really love Prentiss you shouldn't let him go away without you."

They understood each other perfectly. There had been no mention of Irene's love for Prentiss. To neither of them was it necessary to the girl's happiness that she should love him. What Mrs Everett really meant to say, and Irene knew it, was that Irene should take him while she had the chance, if she wanted him. Otherwise there was the risk of another girl's getting him. "I'll think it over," Irene promised with feigned indifference. Then she added as her mother moved to go, "Will you press by flowered batiste for me?"

"It's got an ink spot on it," her mother told her, "but I'll do up the little pink swiss for you." "Oh, that old thing," Irene said disgustedly. "I haven't a decent dress for morning wear I" She was thinking of Beryl's charming country clothes. She might sneak something out of her sister's wardrobe.

"All right, do up the swiss," she said. "I'll wear it if I have to." She had no intention of wearing the dress if coaxing Beryl could prevent it.

By RUTH D. GROVES, innnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

(Copyright. nnnnnn

When her mother had gone back downstairs she hastened to Beryl's room.

Irene entered with a sweet smile and a softly spoken, "How's your old grouch this morning?" Beryl eyed her thoughtfully. "Sit down," she said shortly. to talk with you."

Irene ceased to simper. She did not like Beryl's tone. "I haven't much time," she said doubtfully. "I just came In to see ..." "If you could borrow something," Beryl finished for her. "I guessed that much. Well, maybe you'll get it, but first you've got to hear what I have to say." "Dear me 1 Do you have to look as though you've lost your best friend?" Irene complained. "You'd be serious too for once in your life, perhaps, if you'd seen Toinmy Wilson as I saw him this morn*ing," Beryl snapped at her. "This morning?" Irene repeated. "Has he been here?" "No."

"Oh, another one of your tramps 1 I really don't see why mother allows you to sneak out of the house at all hours —"

"Didn't you know you were driving Tommy to desperation?" Beryl cried. "How could you sit there last night with Prentiss and hear him whistling for you?"

"So you were spying! What a sweet character to be censuring me." Beryl ignored the words and the insulting tone. "You're going to stop this nonsense with Prentis9 Gaylord and behave as you ought to with Tommy," she said hotly. "He's sacrificed everything for you and if the poor nitwit thinks he's got to have you to be happy, why, he's going to. It'll be like a dose of castor oil—hard to take but good for the system. But he'll never be fit for anything until he's cured of you." "That's a nice way to talk," Irene flared up. "What are you suggesting—a trial marriage?" "It won't even be that," Beryl returned dryly. "You'll leave him when you're ready. A fair trial gives everyone a chance."

"And I suppose," Irene retorted, "when I'm through with him you'll get him. Is that the big idea?"

Beryl stared at her with sudden disdain. "No," she said quietly. "It isn't a big idea; it's just your idea."

"I won't stay to be insulted any further," Irene cried and started to leave the room.

Beryl stopped her. "I'm going to tell Prentiss that you promised to marry Tommy," she said evenly. Irene wheeled. "You let me alone 1" she stormed. "You're always causing me trouble 1 I don't see why you can't mind your own business. I'm not always meddling with you!" "Will you tell Prentiss?" Beryl asked her. "I'll give you that opportunity to save you face. You're clever enough to get out rf it with credit to yourself."

Irene's rage was mounting rapidly, but it had not yet gained complete control of her. In Beryl's offer she saw a way out of her difficulty. She'd just need to stall about telling Prentiss until they were safely married. Then Beryl could do nothing. "I think you're horrid!" she cried with temper enough to mislead Beryl. "What good would it do you for Prentiss to know that I was engaged to Tommy?"

"That's not the point," Beryl returned coolly. "Will you tell him?" "You can give me a little time to think it over, can't you?" "No." "Haven't you any heart at all?" Irene whined, appearing to give in. "No." "All right then, I'll tell him—for I know you would. You're that mean, but you needn't be so sure" —she paused, thinking it was just as well not to say to Beryl that she thought Prentiss would marry her in spite of any revelations concerning Tommy. Beryl would want to make certain that Prentiss was told all there was to tell. She might tell him herself, at once, in her own way.

"You'll pay for this," she threatened, turning away. "Just you wait until I tell Mama." "I'll wait until you tell Prentiss," Beryl replied, "but I won't wait long." She went on with her house cleaning and Irene flounced out of the room to go down and tell her mother what had happened. Mrs Everett marched upstairs to give Beryl a lecturing. After a tirade during which Beryl did not answer she ended suddenly with, "I can't see why you interfere when it's so plain that you think Irene would make Tommy unhappy." "That's reasonable," Beryl returned as her mother obviously waited for a reply. "It's because, bad as it will be for Tommy to marry Irene, I'm afraid he'd get into serious trouble without her. And it won't last long anyway." "And then what?"

Beryl looked dreamily into space over the brush mop she was leaning on. "Tommy will grow," she said quietly. "There's something in him that's good and strong. It's down pretty deep, but it's there."

"Well," her mother remarked, "you seem to think a sight of him." Beryl nodded. "And it's nothing to your sister's happiness is "at stake?" her mother pressed. "You wouldn't mind

seeing her make a match that was bound to end that way— in divorce, maybe ? Just to give a boy a chance to grow up?"

* Beryl looked at her with honest, fearless eyes. "I'm more concerned with Tommy," she said frankly. "He's worth more than Irene. She's quitting under fire, but if- he can hold her now he may be willing to let her go when he's grown up." "You're perfectly heartless," her mother told her bitterly, and went to join Irene.

She found her putting on the chiffon dress that had first been intended for her wedding gown.

"You poor child," she said, "I can't do a thing with your sister." "She's a brute," Irene asserted. Then she added in a whisper, "but she's not as smart as she thinks. Listen, Mama, here's what I'm going to do." She put a finger to her lips and tiptoed over to close the door which Mrs Everett had left slightly ajar. "I'll fool her," she added, coming back to the dresser where the telegram lay under a soiled powder puff. She smiled as she took up the sheet of yellow paper. "Talk about your lucky breaks!" And then she told her mother how she was going to outwit Beryl.

(To be continued.)