Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1900-12-08

he caught at the idea like drowning
man at life-belt.
Why are all Irishmen christened Pat
rick he asked, going at the point in
roundabout way instinctively.
But they aren'tr' she exclaimed. MY
husbands name is George. He was
christened George Carruthers, only Pat
suits him so much better. You will saw
so when you see him.
Dick could see him in his minds eye.
with couple of soldiers heaping dry
sand over him in shallow grave, and a
nring party returning to camp after
their last duty. He even wondered
vaguely whether they marched back
with arms reversed, and what arms re-
yersed might precisely mean He had
read of soldiers funerals in newspapers.
You really ought TO see him." she
went on, and having once got uDon 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
new 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 Ncnnckers We're almost the
only peop;e she knew in London. and
they were only friends whom she had
known, as girls know married people in
London, for Il year or two before her
engagement. Again. she might read the
news in an evening paper, as he had
done; it would be better in the morning
than with the loneliness of night to fol-
low the blow-all alone at night in those
dingy lodgings. Or some one might have
seen the telegram and might blurt ont
The name he had read at any moment
during dinner: then there would be n
scene, in which he. Dick Templar, would
be 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 ont that he knew ali the time. Could
he tell her quietly afterward? lie
could, of course. drive home with her;
probably she would expect him 20 DO so.
Should he tell Mrs. Nenneker and ask
her to break the news? Some people. he
knew, thought that bad news came more
gentle dribbled ont. perhaps with an ac-
compartment of phrases importing re-
ligious consolation. He thought of how
he might best put ii, and shivcred. Ills
train. of thought was interrupted by Mrs.
O'Brien speaking to him, eating a late
strawberry bv tiny mOuthfuls as she dld
so. He hoped his face would show moth
ing for the present
do you think me horribly frivolous
and heartless, dining out and enjoying
myself! Do YOU think ! ought to, be
sudden grave look in her eyes. III |
once gave way TO all l feel at tirles |
should 20 mad. The worst battles were
fought before he got out there, and | feel
I know-that he must come through all
right now. You think the show Is prac-
I =
so"
She laid her hand on his. or it touched
his, perhaps unintentionally, and her
face was for a moment so Dir; Wn and
earnest that he felt no doubt Of ,.4e real
ity of her feeling, looking into her eyes
and seeing for an instant below the sur
face. Then the surface closed over
again and rippled, and, before he could
answer, Mrs. Nenneker had signaled and
the ladies We're filing ont OF the room.
There was no doubt of the feeling
no doubt of the weight of the blow
of her hand on his had set his pulses
throbbing, and he felt that there was
future to think of as we'll as n present.
Speaking of the matter afterward Mr..
Nenneker told his wife that he noticed
at the time that Templar punished the
port in silence. and that. finding he could
not draw him into the conversation of
the other men. he let him alone. The
latter part of this was true. for Dick
hardly answered coherently when he was
spoken to. With regard to the port, he
drank three sips and left the rest stand
ing in his glass when he rose with the
others to join the ladies. BY that time
he had made mp his mind that ii was OF
no use to say anything TO Mr.. Nennekcr.
When they got upstairs. Mrs. O'Brien
was singing. II was an Irish song. some
thing with Pat, me darlin'." at inter
mons hl nd
'asthorcs.' 1t had not been in her roper
| tory in the old days. and he heard her
say that her husband had taught il to
| her, when She had finished. and been
warmly congratulated on her perform
| ance. But. as she was in the back draw
| ing room, by the piano, with several la
dies around her, he did not 70 near her
wv nat row those chaps make. HOu
can hear them three streets Off" said
another man 10 him, and they stepped
| together onto the balcony OUTSIDE III.
/ drawing room window. Dick aSSeute,l
and suggested shutting the window: il
| was the front drawing room, thar faced
/ the roadway. and someone else was sif-
ting down 10 The piano, but still she might
/ well hear.
Horrible boo-hoo! Boo-hoo slorter
/ payperr.' they came along, working op-
posite sides Of the street, and believing
/ antiphonally. two rutians with bundles
OF evening newspapers and voices like
/ fogh0rns. servant bought a paper
| from one Of them three doors of. while
the other beloved; he had enough definite
news in his bin 10 be quite articulate rs
10 the slaughter
by George. we'll have one" said Mr.
/ Nenneker. IN the room behind them. Dick
| tried 20 stop him. bur was too late. He
had run downstairs 10 buy one himself
instead OF ringing the bell and sending
out.
| Mrs. O'Brien was coming forward from