Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1897-07-06
III.
LEAvE-TAKINCa


-. LEAvE-TAK1NGs
Philip was reading the evening paper,
when Mrs. Thorndyke came into the
library before dinner, and he made a
com1nendable effort to appear natural
when he greeted her. The hope that she
would give him time to lead up grad
ually to tho subject of his interview
with DR.. Perevin had scarcely taken
shape when her first question flung him
into the midst Of it.
Ibid you go to see the doctor to-day,
Phil?" she asked, moving the reading
lamp that its light might serve him
better.
"What doctor?-o you mean PEREZ
vim. Yes, went down and told him I
was very sick man-in your opinion"
"What does he say is the matter with
your
with me?-why, he said you coddled
me too much, or something of that
sort; that I'd better break away and go
live in the woods"
"But seriously, Philip; you know how
we are worried about you. Doesn't he
think you're in danger?"
Danger of what?" Philip threw
down his paper and stood up before
her. "Do look like sick man? Can
you stretch imagination to the point Of
fancying me going into a decline?''
His manner was reassuring enough,
but the subtle intuition of maternal
love is not to be hoodwinked by appear
ances. Mrs. Thorndyke was not salts
fed. and, seeing there was no posi-
>bility Of keeping her away from the
dreaded subject, Philip slxillfully in
troduced his plan of migration.
''Why, of course" she said; II don't
see why we hadn't thought of that be-
fore. We can find some quiet place
down south where we can be comfort
able, and we can take Helen with u.s."
Philips heart smote him when he set
himself to demolish this cheerful plan.
Having had time to think about it, he
had demonstrated to his own satisfac-
ton the uselessness of trying to dodge
his fate. He had succeeded in twisting
DIR. Perevin's warning into q formal
sentence Of death: and he had made up
his mind to take the physicians adj
vice, not for recuperative purposes, but
for reasons which were purely senti-
mental. He would go away into the will
dcrness where he could find q quiet
place to die, and would so save his moth
er and Helen the day-to-day sorrow of
the intermediary period. 1t was all
very foolish and boyish, doubtless; but
Philip was only an overgrown boy at
best, so far as individuality was con-
cerned, and Mrs. Thorndyke had her
self to thank for it. And so he pro-
ceeded to put his theory into practice.
THAT would all be very pleasant; but
don't you see that must go alone if I
mean to live out of doors and rough it?
I'm not sure butt wou1dbe better for
me to go into the woods with the tur-
pentine gatherers, or in a logging camp.
I don't know that I especially yearn for
such an experience, but I'd do that or
anything else to please you and Helen"
Don't be impatient, Philip, dear; I
know we're a pair of foolish women,
but there is always the look of your
uncle Granville in your eyes, and
Mrs. Thorndyke sat down and began to
cry softly into her handkerchief.
Philip was beside her in q moment.
There, there, little mother, you've let
this thing worry you till you're all I'M
strung. You mustn't, you know; PEREZ
vim says that Im-that all I need is a
change of climate. You won't know me
wien get back"
When one is habitually truthful the
lips lie clumsily and the face usually re-