The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1907-08-07
De MOrtuiS.
v. q. FRIEDLAENDER.

* v. 4. FREDLAENDER. We
He sat down at Emily's desk to go
through her papers. Now that the
house was sold, the servants dis
missed, and he himself back in bache-
Ior quarters, there was no excuse for
putting the thing off. And If Emily
had known a month ago, he could
not help thinking as he opened the
drawers, that she was to be killed
In q railway accident, she could
hardly have made his task easier.
Neat little bundles, tied up with pink
tape and clearly labeled, proclaimed
her various activities. Mothers
Union" "Soup Kitchen" Sunday
School," Book Club"-how the
names recalled Emily herself. A
swift pang of conjunction seized
him. Was it possible, then, that
after only a month her image was
fading from his mind? He continued
absently to empty drawers and
pigeonholes. More neat packages,
! half a dozen unanswered letters and
a few notebooks-that was all
Yes, undoubtedly Emily
was already becoming to him some
thing shadowy and vague. How was
1t? Rather guiltily he tried to avoid
the unezplored deeps of his mind,
but the moment of ~self-revelation
was no longer to be postponed. He
had been shocked, unnerved, horri-
fed by the sudden tragedy; but un-
derneath all that could he deny the
existence of a shameful u~ndercurrent
of feeling, a persistent, ever growing
Joy in, freedom regained? And yet,
what 8 good wife she had been; how
practical, careful Of his interests, un-
exacting. In a thousand ways. large
and small, he would be the loser. A
good wife, but-yes, that was surely
it-she had never conquered, never
even entered the kingdom of his
mind. And where she had never en-
tered could she ever be missed?
Once in that kingdom there had
had dwelt indeed a woman, but she
was not Emily.
= He turned with an impatient sigh.
In the doorway stood Alison.
Of course, it was a dream, but he
was conscious of a certain admira-
ton of himself as dreamer. He had
remembered to make her look older
oh, quite five years older.
poor Mark" she said softly.
He started. Then it was not a
dream.
II have only just heard" she ex-
planned gently. We've been in town
for a day or two, and Mrs. Heriotson
has just told me about-Emily. I
asked her for your address, and came
straight on" She held out her hands
In eager sympathy. He felt her fin
gers cold beneath her gloves. Quite
, naturally he unbuttoned and drew
Them off, as though they had never
parted in bitter silence more than
five years ago.
"You must get warm" he said,
gently, and led her to the fire.
do you think" Alison asked,
u 0IuulOuSlS lu1I- BIG SuuSISu
much?"
He shook his head. mot at all;
the doctors said it must have been
instantaneous"
Alison nodded in swift relief. "Ah,
I'm glad. Butch, it's hard to real
lie! We were just the same age,
and tw%enty-four is so young to die,
and we used to be-to see so much
Of each other"
s Why had she stopped short of the
word friends" he wondered.
"And to die like that" she muir
INJURED.
He thought he could guess what
she meant. There was nothing
nothing" he began. He wanted
to explain that death had spared
Emily the last indignity of being
rgSolting in its form, but he could
find no words.
She nodded in swift comprehen-
sion. Yes, yes, I know what you
mean. 1t would have been awful
that"
He looked up with a grateful thrill.
Emily had never understood a half
finished sentence.
"You were going through her pa
pers?" Alison asked, glancing at the
open desk.
yes"
She leaned forward with sudden
eagernesS. What is that?"
which"
She rose and picked up one of the
notebooks. "Ah, it isl" she said,
and began to turn the pages.
"Alison!"
She looked up in quick defiance.
"It's my own" she said.
Your own"
Eyes; my diary that I lost five and
a half years ago"
The bewilderment in his face was
not to be mistaken.
"You didn't take it," she asked,
slowly.
81? Alison, you cannot seriously
think I did. that?"
She was silent, but they read the
same thought in each others eyes.
Then it must have BEEN" He
stopped. Why say what was obvious,
And Alison's gesture was eloquent.
Emily was dead.
She frowned thoughtfully. "Then
you haven't known, Mark, all these
years, what vas in my diary?"
He shook his head.
She looked at him in grave wonder.
"Then what made you change to
me?"