The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1907-01-23

er-like face.
Then they went away and made
their home in the distant city.
Two years passed. The fragile in.
valid upon whom for so long Ruth
had bestowed a daughters tender
care and devotion, was dead, and
Ruth was left alone.
Mimi had lovingly and urgently
begged her to come and make her
home with them, and Mortimer had
urged it, too.
Il will come to you gladly" Ruth
had said in reply, "but only for a
short time, for l have made my ar
, rangements to enter hospital and
| become a nurse. You must not think
me selfish If l have decided to live
my life In my own way"
This announcement was q great
grief to Mimi. But even in the face
of that and Mortimer's strong re-
monstrance, Ruth stood firm.
Don't grudge me this" she said,
with a smile that reminded him
obl uHSClJ VI olhCl udNo. IL HIS
been my desire and intention for a
long, long time"
During the weeks that they were
together Ruth entered heartily into
all of Minis interests, and hopes and
plans. And Mortimer, silently watch
ing and comparing them, saw at last
the difference in stature of their two
souls.
And, strangely enough, he sudden
ly had come to see himself by another
light. He had not fulfilled the prom
Use of his youth. His great picture
had not been painted, and he felt dis
satisfied, though he knew that his
young wife thought him and all his
work perfection. But before Ruth's
clear and unwavering eyes he quailed.
He had not reached the high stand
ard she had set for him, and which
once had been his own.
They chanced to be alone together
in his studio, and Ruth was standing
before the weak, half-fnished picture
upon his easel.
"Oh, If you had not failed me,
Ruth" he groaned miserably. with
you-all heights had been possible."
There was silence, during which
he would have given his right hand
to have recalled those ill-considered
words.
Then, as if she had not heard him,
Ruth spoke.
There is something wrong, Nor
timer-you must begin anew. There
is yet time. You see, want to have
the faith in you that Mimi has,"
Then, leaving him, she rejoined
Mimi in another room.
He felt humiliated. He left the
house and walked aimlessly for
hours. When he returned at dusk
Ruth was gone.
"She left good-by for you, Morti-
mer, dear. But isn't it dreadful?"
Mimi sobbed. There's no knowing
when we shall ever see her again!
1t is almost as if she were-dead!
She must have received some mes
sage. At any rate, she has started
for the hospital whole week earlier
than she expected to go. She could
not even wait, dear, until you re-
turned"
He passed his weeping wife in ST.
lence and entered his darkened studio
and closed the door.
So Ruth had weighed him and
found him utterly wanting-not
worthy even of her farewell! He had
tried to cast the blame upon her, and
had said that she had failed him.
But he knew that he had been false
to her and that in some way she had
OWNED it-even as he was false to
poor Mimi now-and false to his bet
ter self. So he had wrecked his life!
What lay before him but growing dis
content, degeneration, failure?
He went to the window and stared
out gloomily. On the ledge lay
book. 1t was one he had seen in
Ruth's hands that day-and bit of
ribbon marked her place. He opened
it, and as he turned it to catch the
fading light his eyes fell upon these
words, lightly marked:
"If she be smaller than thou art,
bend little and whisper in her ear"
This was Ruth's message to him,
and he understood it as she had
known he would. 1t showed him the
only way that happiness might lie.
He closed the book, and after q
little while he went out and comfort
ed his wife.-Judith Spencer, in
Springfield (Mass) Republican.