The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1905-07-21

down, staring blankly before him for
a while, and scattering his papers
heedlessly on the floor. Then his
head dropped upon his hands, and his
eyes were wet.
AS the door closed after him Mary
trembled. So he had accepted the
situation! Then, indeed, he did not
love her. She had expected plead
ing protestations; she had meant to
forgive him; she had thought, indeed,
they might begin again.
HE never loved me-" she said to
herself. II did not mean to leave
him. I shall go now; owe 1t to
my pride to go now"
She dragged her steps to her room;
she must put her things together.
Where she should go she did not
know-and did it matter? If she was
not with him she did not care where
she was. There were plenty of hotels,
but how lonely she would be!
She opened her wardrobe and flung
dress after dress upon the floor. She
must take something with her; it
didn't matter what. Wherever she
was he would not be there to see her.
The light was growing gray out
side; the room seemed cold. She Won
dered what he was doing. He had
not gone from the house; he was
waiting to see her off, perhaps-won-
dering why she was so long. Could
she have looked at him then she
would have seen him sitting with a
miniature in his hand, looking at the
pretty face with tear-dimmed eyes
would have heard his words, my lit
tie wife!"-seen him lift it to his
lips.
She had taken out all the dresses
now. There was still something at
the back of the wardrobe something
soft. She took it down, drew it out,
and a swift rush of color swept her
face.
In her hands she held an old vel
vet smoking coat; but the sight of 1t
brought back a flood of memories.
She remembered so well he had
strolled over to her fathers house
wearing it; he had found her in the
conservatory, tending the plants, he
had told her then that he loved her,
had taken her for the first time in his
arms, kissed her, gained her promise
that she would be his wife.
AS she stood with the coat in her
hand she recalled she had been so
happy; she could recall each word he
had said, each kiss he had given; and
his arms, his dear arms, how tender
ly, how closely, how fondly they had
held her!
She sank into chair, the coat now
close against her breast. A little sob
rose in her throat, tears came into
her eyes. 1t was all overall over!
His arms would never hold her again,
his lips would never kiss her more!
Outside it grew darker still. She
felt sad, lonely and she must go
soon. She had cut the ground under
her feet, burned her boats behind
her; he would be wondering why she
did not go.
If only he would come to her! After
all he did love her; she knew that
we'll. They had been foolish-proud.
If only he would come
She lifted the coat. Then, while
in the semi-darkness the color burned
her face, she threw it aroud her
drew the arms right across her. A
faint smell of smoke chung to it yet.
She could almost fancy she was in
his arms, that their quarrel was a
dream, that she was not leaving
his home and hers forever.
He had laughed at her often for
keeping the old coat, for loving it al
most as though it were something
human. She would take it away with
her; he would never miss it.
And then, quietly. she began to
cry, her soft cheek pressed to the old
velvet, sometimes her quivering lips.
If only he would come to her. How
could she go away?
How long she cried, quietly but bit
terly-how soon, utterly exhausted,
she dropped to sleep-she did not
know. The opening of the door
aroused her; the switching on of the
electric light. And once mc7e hus-
band and wife-almost children both
looked at one another.
Looked and understood that parting
was impossible, the love was still
there; looked while, as his eyes fell
upon the old velvet coat, and he I'M
derstood, a flush swept her face.
Then, with one swift stride, wife and
coat all were taken into passionate
embrace. words of love and forgive
ness stumbled across their lips, and
parting was something that would
never come while life should last
Alice Maud Meadows. in Chicago Tri-
bune.
CURIOUS HOBBIES.