The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1900-12-04

lowed, but he did not see them Mach
anically he folded the paper and thrust
it deep into the pocket of his overcoal
which the footman was taking from
him as rapidly as he could.
you are late, and l have had no one
to bring me downstairs!" said voice
that brought Dick to himself with a
start. They had resolved to so in to
dinner without him, and he had be n
standing in the hall staring at them in
dazed way, almost without acknoWl-
edging his hosts nod, as they all fled
by, until Mrs. O'Brien came past alone.
She slipped her arm into mis-, and lie
went in, vaguely wondering what it was
he had to do, with the widow of a man
forty-eight hours dead prattllnG BESIDE
him about the heat and flowers, tWit-
ting him with trivialities as to "hlt
might have made him so late and raj
lying him on his dullness.
1T suppose it is being married to a
soldier" she said, that makes me ac-
customed to punctuality. Pat is never
late for anything"
1t was the first time she had mention
ed her husband by name that evening,
and he caught at the idea like drown
ing man at a lifebelt.
"Why are all Irishmen christened Fat
rick?" he asked, going at the point in
roundabout way instinctively.
"But they arent!' she exclaimed.
''My husbands name is George. He
was christened George Carruthers, only
Pat suits him so much better. You
will say so when you See him."
Dick could see him in his minds eye,
with a couple of soldiers heaping dry
sand over him in a shallow grave, and
a firing party returning to camp after
their last duty. He even wondered
vaguely whether they marched back
with arms reversed, and what arms re-
versed might precisely mean. He had
read of soldiers funerals in the news
papers.
you really ought to see him." she
went on, and, having once got upon the
topic talked of the husband whom she
had married six months before for the
rest of the dinner time, telling her host
ess an anecdote Of him across the man
who sat between them. Her doing so
gave Dick an opportunity to think and
possible solutions of the question what
was to happen chased one another
through his head. She might not see
the news till the morning, reading it
all by herself in her lodgings he had
called on her there and she had told
him how lonely and forlorn she felt
without pat The Vennekers were
almost the only people she knew in
London, and they were only friends
whom she had known, as girls know
married people In London, for year or
two before her engagement. Again,
she might read the news in an evening
paper. as he had done; it would be bet
ter in the morning than with the lone
illness of night to follow the blow-all
alone at night in those dingy lodgings
Or some one might have seen the tele-
gram and might blurt out the name he
had read at any moment during dim
ner; then there would be a scene in
which he, Dick Templar. would be a
helpless spectator. Some day she might
remember how cheerfully she had spent
the evening, laughing and chatting
when her husband lay dead, and even
find out that he knew all the time
Could he tell her quietly afterward? He
could, of course, drive home with her;
probably she would expect him to do
so. Should he tell Mrs. Venneker and
ask her to break the news? Some peo-
pie, he knew thought that bad news
came more gently dribbled out, perhaps
with an accompaniment of phrases i'm
parting religious consolation. He
thought of how he might best put it,
and shivered. His train of thought
was Interrupted by Mrs. O'Brien speak
ing to him, eating late strawberry
by tiny mouthfus as she did so. He
hoped his face would show nothing for
the present.
DO you think me horribly frivolous
and hardhearted dining out and enjoy
ing myself? Do you think ought to be
glum like-like you?" she asked with a
sudden grave look in her eyes. IF |
once gave way to all 1 feel at times I |
should go mad. The worst battles were
fought before he got out there, and I |
fell, know, that he must come through |
all right now. You think the show is |
practically over, don't you? Every one |
says So"
She laid her hand on his, or it touched |
his, perhaps Internationally and her |
face was for moment so drawn and |
earnest that he felt no doubt of the |
reality of her feeling, looking into her
eyes and seeing for an instant below
the surface, Then the surface closed |
over again and before he could answer
Mrs. Venneker had signaled and the la
dies were filing out of the room. |
There was no doubt of the feeling
no doubt of the weight of the blow that |
was going to fall. Still, the touch of her
hand on his had set her pulses throb-
Ding, and he felt that there was a flu
ture to think of as well as present.
Speaking of the matter afterward, |
Mr.. Nenneker told his wife that he no
iced at the time that Templar punish
ID the port in silence, and that, finding
lie could not draw him into the CONVEX
;ation of the other men, he let him
llone. The latter part of this was true,
or Dick hardly answered coherently
when he was spoken to- With regard
o the port he drank three sips and
eft the rest standing in his glass when
lie rose with the others to join the la
lies. BY that time he had made up his
mind that it was no use to say anything
o Mrs. Venneker. When they got up
stairs Mrs. O'Brien was singing 1t
vas an Irish song, something with Pat,
ne darln'," at intervals, and the usual |
'acushlas" and "asthores." 1t had not
'een in her repertory in the old days, |