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Love & Mrs. Sargent Page 26
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“Sheila, my dear,” Malvern said. “You look magnificent. Like a bride.”
“Thank you, Howard,” Sheila said.
“Like a bride!” the Other Sheila sneered. “He’d marry you in a minute and he’s ten times too good for you.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“And if he asks, darling, you’d better say yes. You’ve run out of courtiers. There’s nobody left but Howard. And you don’t deserve him.”
“It’s late, Sheila, and I’m a little worried about the traffic. Are the others ready?” Malvern asked.
“And just what are you going to tell him about those others, darling? Think fast now. Allison’s flown to London to be presented. Dicky’s in Stockholm accepting the Nobel Prize. Floodie’s run off with Cary Grant. Tell a good one. You’ll soon believe it yourself. Or—or you might even tell the truth for once.”
“Why, Howard, as a matter of fact . . . .” she began gaily. Then she stopped. Looking down at Malvern’s adoring face, she knew that she couldn’t tell another lie. She would have to have someone—just some other living person—to lean on. The tears began to flow. “There aren’t any others, Howard. They’ve walked out on me—all of them.”
“Sheila, my dear. I don’t understand.”
She was down the stairs and in his arms. “I do, Howard. I understand perfectly—now. They left me because I was a shocking mother; a lying, cheating bully who ran their lives according to what I wanted. And now they’ve gone.”
“Sheila, we all make mistakes. You meant. . . .”
“Don’t say I meant well, Howard. I didn’t. Oh, I thought so. It all seemed so logical and simple. I thought I could run anyone’s life just beautifully and I was so busy doing it that I made a mess of my own. I was so happy to fool myself into thinking that people needed Sheila Sargent that I never stopped to realize how much I need them. Now it’s too late.”
“I need you, Sheila,” Malvern said, taking her into his arms again. “If only you’d marry me. . . .”
“Howard, that’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever done to me. But could you wait a little while? A year? Two years? Even longer? Long enough for me to get off by myself and make some drastic alterations. I want to be worthy.”
“Worthy, Sheila?”
“Yes, Worthy of loving—and of being loved.”
“Sheila, I’d wait a lifetime. I already have.”
“Thank you, Howard. It’s getting late. You’d better start into town. I know how worried you can be. I’ll just have a light supper here and . . .”
“But, Sheila. This Mother of the Year Award. What can I tell them?”
“You can tell them, Howard, that Sheila Sargent is most flattered but that Mrs. Sargent will be unavoidably detained because she’s lost something very valuable and will have to find it.”
“Sheila, what is this? What have you lost and what are you trying to find?”
“My children, Howard. My children—and myself.”
Table of Contents
Title Page
Original Copyright Page
Monday
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
XIII.
XIV.
XV.
XVI.
WEDNESDAY
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
THURSDAY
I.
II.
III.
IV.
FRIDAY
I.
II.