The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1909-04-12
CHAPTER III.

of Horace. taken when he was
u about ten wears old. What q
serious little boy he was. stand
ing there by a chair in that quaint
velvet suit, his hair combed back
very straight and smooth from ms
earnest little face! How he laughed
over this picture when / found II among
his things soon after our MARRIAGE
And have another, taken when he was
in college, a tall. slim youth, with the
same earnest face and grave, dark eyes
There is a feeling almost of exulta-
ton that these pictures are mine
wholly mine. He can give her none
like them, for there. are no others,
And I feel, too. that all the memories
of mis- youth belong more TO me than
they ever can to her. 1 do not think
ne could ever telf her of his boyish
dreams and aspirations, as he once told
Nthem to me.
June 18th.
Why are we never honest enough to
admit that when we are unhappy the
uniappiness OF others is comforting ?
] have heard people say: IF I cannot
be happy myself, 1 like to see others
around me happy" That is not true.
We may wish it were, out II is not.
have Just received a letter from
Edith Darlington, a cousin who lives
in Boston, and who l have always
thought was most happily married. She
has a beautiful home, two beautiful
children, and, as L always believed, a
devoted husband. Lately in my own
desolation 1 nave thought with envy OF
the security ana love which surrounded
her life. And now she writes that she
has determined to leave her husband,
that for months he had been drinking
and cruelty mis.resting her and is liv-
ing openly with a well-known actress.
knowing I will read the newspaper ac-
counts Of the divorce which viii soon
be instituted. she is sending this letter
that ! may have the facts first from
her. She writes that she is heart
brosen-Iife seems black and hopeless,
and she don't know how she can go on
living
When / laid down the letter. / knew
that mingled with the sincere pity and
sympathy 1 felt for her was something
like JOY, a fierce JOY that her suffering
was az great as mine. II through any
efforts OF mine 1 could restore to her
hH happiness. there is no sacrifice I
Would not make to do so. But since
am poweriess to help her, since no
thought or feeling of mine can either in
crease or lessen her misery, 1 knew that
her letter has brought me the greatest
consolation I have had for days. II
helps me to know her husband has been
more cruel 70 her than Horace has been
10 me.
June 9th.
Today young and beautiful woman
got on street car and took a seat
I he
almost dazzling beauty. Her skin was
msrvelously white and clear. with a
faint rose pink in her cheeks. There
was not line or blemish in her face.
and 1t was the beauty of youth and
freshness-there was no paint nor pow
der there. She was dressed with dar-
ing. striking simplicity white broad
cloth suit, and a plain, white felt
sailor
I watched her with a sickenine sense
OF envy-almost OF hatred seemed to
feel all the lines in my poor, wan,
faded face. I could not bear TO sit
beside her. Oh. felt so old-so pitiabIy
old. At the next corner / got off and
walked home. my heart filled with
dumb. hopeless misery.
June 18th.
What vague. Elusive thoughts come
70 one I'm that half-consciousness lust
before sleep. Last night some such
strange vaEaries filled my mind, and 1
found myself thinking: Il will hold
tNse-I viii remember this" But this
morning they are all gone. can recall
only that II was something about
Horace, some way out of all my
wretchedness. some way by which j
could bring back my old happiness 1t
seemed 50 clear then. so easy Of at
tainment. And ] remember so we'll the
thought that / must not forget-there
was even a desire 10 get up and write
il down, and then came the feeling that
] was writing il down. And 1 was
filled with a great sense OF relief that
everything would come right and
drifted of 10 sleep.
OF course. It could have been nothing
real or tangible. and yet all morning L
have been trying to recall what il was.
June 18th.
! must know who she is and where
she lives. 1 cannot endure any longer
these torturing doubts and suspicious
Tomorrow ! shall follow him. year
ago I would have shrunk from such a
~ ought with untold horror. but now-I
aiu desperate now. i must know.
June 3Oth
i have just bought a cheap black
hat and heavy veil. How old IL makes
me look, / know now how kindly
my hats are 20 my face; with what art
my milliner shapes them. But this
straight, stim brlm cruelty hardens
and ages my features. I have found
black skirt and coat that I have
not worn for years and that know he
VIII not recognize. In this disguise
yin follow him.
Midnight
II is over. have followed him.
know. At & O'Clock / was in Nassau
street. waiting by The door OF the
great trust building in which he has
his offices. SO many people were
pouring out that ] was afraid I might
not see him, so I went inside the large
corridor where ] could watch the eie-
vstors. The place seemed throbbing,
pulsating with the life of the business
world. The thought that my husband
was a part. a prominent part. OF all
this thrilled me with a momentary
sense or pride
All these men, hurrying away from