“TO-MORROW’S CHILD”

Manawatu Times, Volume 64, Issue 106, 8 May 1939, Page 10

“TO-MORROW’S CHILD”

Synopsis of Preceding Instalments

Valentine Clarke, who is to marry Robert Greeley, a young New England lawyer in a month, goes from New Manchester to New York with her Aunt Mahala’s housekeeper, Mrs. Warren, on a shopping trip. Val 'phones her older cousin, Kate Hollister, who is editor of a fashion magazine. Kate invites her to a party where she meets Hugh Malcolm, a successful young playwright; Bret viallishaw, a New Manchester boy, who, while doing newspaper work in New York, wrote a best seller; Leslie Crawford, Bret's half-brother, and \V mitred Sperry, who are starring in Hugh’s latest success, ‘ ‘ End of fears," and Guy Williams, who inherited millions and has a small part in the play. Although it had been understood Bret was to marry Kate, he and wealthy Evelyn Gariield are married when his novel becomes a movie hit. it is evident that tlreie is hard feeling between Bret and Leslie, and that Leslie is very much upset when Winifred and Hugh are together. As Winifred and Leslie are about to a scene from the play, Guy asks Val to go to Pete's place, saying she is to see the play anyhow. At Pete Gaboriau's outside Philadelphia Guy is greeted with kisses by Louise Cameron —* 4 Leezo to you," Guy says in introducing them. Leezo drags Guy oil to dance leaving Val with Crandall Scott. When they meet later Leezo strikes Val and Val defends herself so well Guy has to lift Leeze from the floor and take her out. While waiting for Guy Val goes with Cran to Pete's gaming rooms. They are trapped in a raid. At a quarter after three only two of Kate’s guests were missing from the apartment —Val and Guy. At threethirty Bret Gallishaw came out of the kitchen, where he had been substituting for Guy, and gazed over a tray of tinkling glasses at a completely abandoned living room. Returning from the elevator a moment later, Kate burst into laughter. “If you could see yourself, Bretl Didn't you know they were going, darling?" She took the tray from him and set it on the table. “Does the frown mean you're regretting you didn't beat the gun?" Bret said after a moment, ‘ ‘ I hadn't intended to be the last to leave, if that is what you mean. There is probably enough talk already without —" “Does it matter whether they taik or not?" Kate demanded quickly. ‘ 4 l was not thinking of myself, Kate." 44 0 f me!" she asked, smiling. She sank into a chair, braced her feet against the settee. "My dear Bret it has been so long since I cared what other people think of mo that I can't even remember the sensation. Hand me a cigarette, will you, darling?" “Certainly." He knew what she was thinking—of the night he had eloped with Evelyn Gariield, leaving her exposed to every long tongue in New York. Why ho came here, he told himself, was one of the unsolved mysteries of his life. Away from her, he was never able to convince himself that this cynical and faintly embittered girl was not the same Kate who some six years ago had clung to his arm and talked ecstatically of an authentic Governor Winthrop desk she had found for the all-antique living room they were going to have. Always he came back expecting to lind her as she was then —and always there were these subtle reminders to send him away resolved never to return. He leaned back against tho mantel. Kate thought he had changed very little in those six years. Physically, at any rate. The black, bushy brows that began close to his nose and rose at a sharp angle, the sagging lids beneath which his brown eyes stared out with the arrogance of genius, the straight nose with its sensitive nostrils, the thin lips, the clean-cut line of his jaw—they were all the unaltered features of the young man into whose flagging spirit she had once poured the faith and enthusiasm of her own young and adoring heart. She had given him the impetus for that first spurt of effort. Perhaps she had given him all she had. She wondered sometimes whether he would have come so far if the little apartment with its all-antique living room had materialised.

Bret said now, “Perhaps it is just as well that I stayed, Kate. I wanted to ask you something." ‘‘Why did you ask me here to-night when you knew Leslie would be here?"

* * But Bret—l distinctly told you we were celebrating the seventy-eighth week of ‘End of Tears.' I couldn't very well snub the two principals." She understood then. The fact that the Van Ain burgh Theatre had burned meant nothing to him; he had assumed that Leslie Crawford and Winifred Sperry would be at the theatre as usual.

Bret said, “Leslie did me an injustice which nothing can wipe out of memory. If I were thrown with him every day for ten years, I would still hate tho sight of him. Men have been killed for doing less than he did to mo ..." Long ago Kate had heard from him the details of that quarrel over an inheritance. She said, “I suppose you noticed he isn't any too happy just now. His fight with Hugh a few weeks ago doesn't seem to have done him any good. If anything—" She suddenly rose and stood beside him, her back to the fires. “If anything, Hugh seems to be more attentive to Winifred, than

1 ‘ Winifred Sperry is a viper," Bret said quietly. “The chances are she is playing one against the other. Personally, I would not put it past her to slash a man's throat while she lay in his arms.' *

14 Why, Bret . . .! " Kate looked at him, laughing. “Wbat a horrible thing to say. In other words, we are all nice

By Julie Anne Moore Instalment 4.

people. You and I included." She said then, “You know, Bret, sometimes I think it would be good for both of us if we never saw each other again.'' He stared at her steadily. “I think that every day, but—here I am. ’' Their eyes held, unwavering, until Bret suddenly caught her arms. Quickly Kate put a hand against him, gently pushed him back. “Not to-night, darling." Her voice sounded very tired. For a moment he did not move; then, with a little shrug, he stalked out into the entry hall. “You're lucky if you get your Val back alive," he said, casually, pulling on his coat. “That Williams upstart ought to be in an institution. ' * Kate smiled. “I tried to warn her,' 1 she said, 4 “which was probably the worst thing I could have done. It's just as well, I suppose. Since her father was killed in the aeroplane crash, she's been living with an old aunt who has her own ideas about how a young girl should conduct herself. She’s like a bird out of a cage. This minute, 1 imagine, she's making the most of the first night club she's ever seen."

When the telephone rang, Kate thought, “It's Val—loaded to her pretty eyebrows with explanations."

But it was not Val. “What's the earliest possible moment I can see you, Kate?" Hugh Malcolm asked. “Can you have breakfast with me at nine? I can't discuss it over the 'phone." “Let's see ... I need some sleep, and I must put in an appearance at the office by noon. Suppose we say tenthirty, here, Hugh."

“But I can't discuss this in front of Val.''

“Don’t worry; she'll be dead to the world most of the day. I imagine." “All right," Hugh said, “ten-thirty. On the dot." Then: “By the way, what time did that young idiot bring her back?"

Kate, glancing at the clock on the mantel, said, “It is now a quarter off five and he hasn't brought her back yet . . . Now don't try to get me upset. They're somewhere in New York, certainly. ’' She heard Hugh’s unpleasant grunt. “I wouldn’t bet any money on it," he said. “Oh, say—" suddenly—“l've been meaning to ask you. You're like two bantam roosters every time I see you together. What's he done to you?"

“The shoe is on the other foot," Hugh said. “He says I promised him a heavier part in ‘End of Tears.' I can't seem to get it into his head that I merely write the plays and leave the casting to those who know what they 're about . . . But asid.e from that, I can't say I exactly admire him. He’s too old for his age.''

“He has a fatal attraction for women, though," Kate said, laughing. “You see how he bewitched Val." “And that's another count against him," Hugh chuckled. “Well, I’ll be there at ten-thirty with the slickest idea for a play you've "ever seen. And no more talk to-night ..." ‘ ‘ Hugh . . . wait . . .!" She knew what it meant to him to discuss an idea ■while it was fresh in his mind. The theme of “End of Tears" had been developed in this very room. She was sorry now she hadn't asked him to come over immediately.

Yawning, she walked to the corridor door, made certain that Val could get in, and went to her bedroom. At ten-twenty-five Hugh Malcolm rang the bell and was admitted, by Violet, Kate's coloured maid. In the living room he saw the small table set for breakfast. When Kate came in, she settled at the table at once and brought him to his subject.

He glanced around, uneasily. “You're sure Val’s asleep??" “Val's at her hotel," Kate told him.

‘‘ At least I hope she is. She isn't here. Probably ashamed to face me after running off . . . But, what's idea, and how did it start?"

It had started, curiously enough, with Val. Hugh couldn't be sure just when or how, but all evening he had been playing with some vague notion, and then when he had gone back to his apartment the thing had clicked in his brain and suddenly he knew he would write a play around a character of which Val was the original. He produced a sheaf of notes. “You can't imagine how this thing is spinning inside," touching his head. “‘Now listen—the theme will be the New Woman . . . Remember Bret's novel, ‘Over the Crest'? Well, what he tried to show—and a hundred other novelists have done the same thing less effectively—was that post-war youth was not running wild but passing through an inevitable transition. Groping its way, yes—but groping toward something better. Bret made no attempt to say wliat the new creature would be like. In fact, he frankly admitted—through his characters—that he didn't know." Kate nodded. “Yes, I remember." “All right," Hugh hurried on, “Bret's book asked the question. My play will provide tile answer in its principal character —the New Woman, a girl of high intelligence and superbly controlled passions, a woman unafraid, taking full equality with the male sex as her birthright, running her own risks, fighting her own battles, demanding and achieving by her own unaided efforts complete independence—" He was suddenly silent. “Is it as funny as that?" he asked pleasant ly. Kate was biting her lips to keep from laughing. “I’m sorry, Old-Timer, but —do you mean to tell me that in the space of an hour or two Val impressed you as that kind of girl?" “Yes," he said, seriously. Then: “But I want to know whether she is or not. Or to put it better—l want to know Val so well that I can make the character conform. Val is -what I want

to present as the New Woman." Ht glanced down at his notes, looked u]j

quickly: “Kate—could you persuade Val to stay in New York for a few months—just to give me a chance to study her, learning the wav she thinks —really get to know her?" A bell tinkled softly. They heard Violet going to the door. Kate said, “It’s possible, of course, but —I’m not so sure about Aunt Maliala. After all, Hugh—" She saw him rise, staring. She swung around . . . Val was standing in the doorway, grinning. Her face was scratched, her right eye was swollen and discoloured, her hair was in complete disarray.

Kate started across the room: “Va . . you’ve been in a wreck!"

“No," Val said. She leaned against the door. “If you want the truth, tho whole truth and nothing but—l've been in a fist fight with a girl in a placo called Pete Gaboriau's Salle a Manger within twenty-five minutes ride of Philadelphia and I must appear in Court Tuesday morning to answer to a charge of frequenting a gambling house. ’' She looked at Hugh, grinning. “Off the record, I don't mind telling you I won my fight ..." When she could stop laughing, Kate caught Val's Tight wrist and held it high: “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you—the New Woman . . .!" Hugh shook his head, soberly. “No," lie said. “The title will be—‘To-mor-I row's Child.’ 'J (To be Continued.)