The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1900-08-07
THE SACRED
ARMCHAIR
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Story of a Soldiers Return.

Captain Carus Bentley Of the Elev-
enth artillery regulars limped down the
gangway from the transport and step
ped on pier 10 with the vague, indefin-
able satisfaction that after a year in
the tropics he was getting back to
Gods country. He swayed a moment
as he reached the dock and looked up
at the ramparts of buildings along the
river No one met him at the dock Of
the steamer There were no fearful
eyes brilliant with joy and tender arms
to crush him with happiness. There
were no little feminine plaudits and
girlish shrieks for greeting. How diff
ferent was his coming back from his
going away! She had chung on his arm
and sighed little heartbroken sobs.
She was sad then. He had been exult-
ant, gay, happy, carried away with the
enthusiasm of war and mans love of
action. He had gone and won his spurs
and got wounded and then lay for six
months in the military hospital at San
tiago smitten down by fever, wayering
between life and death, not knowing
then of the agony which he inflicted on
his dear one with silence unbroken by
a letter or message Of any kind.
Regularly and faithfully, with the
devotion of her sex, she had written to
him, and at the end of ten months,
having received no reply, she had
ceased. Some of the letters which she
had written he carried with him. His
hospital nurse had let him have them
when she thought that he had the
strength to comprehend their contents.
Each was an unhappy, passionate cry
from a wounded soul, an unconscious
rebuke to him, and each revealed the
pain resting heavily in the bottom of
neglected woman's heart, the pain
which she could not help express when
the natural warmth of her heart was
repulsed by persistent silence.
Bentley crawled into cab and drove
to his rooms. Hell had cabled his house
keeper from Cuba before the transport
had sailed, and he knew that his apart
ments would be in trim order when he
llf0Og Iu1L llo OdlA WOuA0 OC PAC-
pared, the fire burning gayly in the
erstwhile deserted hearth and dinner
hot and steaming when he wanted it.
When he reached the door, he fuInbled
in the pocket of his blue uniform for
his latchkey, and he felt puzzled when
he found that it was gone. He touched
the electric button. 1t seemed funny
to him to have to ring his own door
bell before he could get in.
Presently the housekeeper opened
the door, and Bentley's collie was alert
at her heels Mrs. Blossom could only
calculate incoherent. sentences in the
exuberance of her surprise and joy
and look at her returned soldier with
all the tenderness of her devoted old
age Happy and improving your
nurse wrote last" she said, 80 / had
no fear for you"
Happy and improving" Bentley
echoed under his breath. 81 wonder
if she, too, heard that" He had sunk
down into a big armchair before the
fire, He was depressed and silent and
still weak from the wound in his arm
LET me alone to think now" he said
to the woman, who stood waiting for
orders. So she quietly and uncere-
moniouSly withdrew and left Bentley
alone with his dreams. The collie, too
little noticed after the long separation,
leaped on his knees and whined pitt
fully and lay her gentle head against
the faded, shabby sleeve of his coat.
Bentley took her head between his
hands and as he looked at the quiet,
faithful eyes two tears came into his
own.
Little old woman" he said, you've
been lonesome, haven't you? So have
|. I've wanted to be back here mil
lions of times. Yes, have, little wo-
man. And | had hoped when l did
come that we might not be alone any
more and that the hearth might not be
so dreary. Yes, Jess, l actually began
to imagine that some one would sit in
that chair opposite and would answer
me when l spoke and understand me
when was silent and love me al
ways.
"Why, little woman, that empty chair
has stood there opposite mine for ten
years now. Yes, ten years. You
haven't kept such close watch of the
time as | have" He drew the collie
close into his arms, and she lay there,
complacently, blinking into the fire.
'tWe used to think that she came
and sat there and made us happy with
her laughter ard her bright talk. She
was always kind of airy ideal Of ours,
wasn't she, Jess? But she was real
for us-yellow hair, blue eyes, low
voice, slender figure and all, and she
used to come and sit there and rest
her elbows on her knees and talk non
sense to us and contemplate the burn
Ing embers just like real woman.
And then she used to jump up sudden
~ In her sweet, impulsive way and
come and kiss us, Jess-you on that
queer white spot and me right on the
top where he,hair has grown thin-and
disappear to make tea. Yes, Jess, II
was all so gloriously dear, that dream
and that image.
'Now, little woman" he continued
musingly, II am going t. tell you Sc,
cret. Don't get angry and bark, will
you? haven't told you before be
cause there wasn't time before l wen1
~ ~--o& hoe ~ Mus Man