The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1910-06-10

But they're not musk laden like your
| feverish India"
"Feverish India" unused Mrs. Har-
| court Il wonder if it is so! I am 80
| much better to-day. can't remember
anything; it's all dim, gray waste IN
my head, but it doesn't hurt any more,
and I'm SO glad. My husband-where
is he?"
1t was the first time she had asked
about Harcourt. Hartley hesitated.
He did not know whether to break the
blessed peace that surrounded her. He
did not know what to tell her. Final
ly he decided to tell the truth-a rash
thing always.
why, Miss Lancey disappeared, you
know; or do you remember the young
girl who went to your room that night.
And the police-of course it's foolish of
them, but the police, you know, think
he may know something about her dis
appearance, and they're holding him
till they find her."
lis he in jail?" asked Mrs. Har-
court.
why. yes" admitted Philip, "but
You can be comfortable even in Jail.
you know. He doesn't seem to be
minding it much
Sometimes have thought-of late
Il don't know, but there seems to De
shadow between my husband and
me-. What is it? I know and yet I
cannot tell. Answer me. are there two
Mes? Else why have I seen myself
walking in the garden when l was
sick, so sick. and in my bed? Why
have l seen myself beneath the trees
caressing my husband when was in
the house with my baby on my knee?
What is it? And why? 1 cannot UNI
derstand at ALI"
ed she had overtaxed herself AMI
blamed himself. He rose to go, but she
detained him.
mo. don't!" she pleaded You rest
me. Just like the cool water does a
weary throat. My throat doesn't burn
any more like 1t used to. I wonder
why. They don't give me so much
medicine here any more. Harold used
to give it to me all the time. My head
feels 50 much lighter than it did-as IL
it would blow away"
DR.. Fothergill had come in the room
while Mrs. Harcourt was speaking at
the last words a triumphant look
flashed across the physicians face, and
her lips formed the words. Il told you
So"
Il don't believe I ever want to go
back to India" continued Mrs Har-
court. absently following the patterns
in the ceiling. Il feel so different here.
AS if it were another life. And you.
| dear friend. you have been so kind, I
love your visits so. You must come
oftener."
Philip blushed under her unconven-
| tionality He was well aware that
even under the guise of newspaper de-
mands that a penniless $3O-a-week re-
porter had no right to call too fire.
quently upon the wife of an East In
dian magnate. herself possessed of a
large fortune. Particularly when this
said wife was young, lovely and
seemingly unfortunate woman.
He made his adieux confusedly. Dr.
Fothergill followed him out into the
| hall. You must as she says, come
oftener." the doctor insisted, with the
emphasis of all gray-haired women.
"She never speaks of herself except
when you are here. 1t is the only way
to clear this thing up. Mind what I
say. And matters are muddled badly
enough now. goodness knows. What
with two young idiots-Mr. Nor
ris and Mr.. Johnson-both heading for
Africa on wild goose chase, Mrs
OBSTETRICS death. and the disappear
ance of Miss, Lancey. there has been
| far too much woe and ruin accumulat-
ed at the feet of one murder. A fine
set of police they have here, must
say. Come tomorrow, young man,
| come tomorrow"
And Philip needed but little urging.
His sentiments for the woman who was
so slowly convalescing were far too
tender to suit his reason, when he
stopped to use it. But Philip was
| young. and youth is ever irrational. 50
he counted each hour with Mrs. Har-
court as rarer than the gems that fas-
tened her hair. or her soft louneing
robes Of wonderful texture and COLOR
| ing. He read to her, he played that
old Indian game. parchesi. with her
and one day proposed game Of cards.
but the sight Of the pasteboards turn
ed her faint. and She suffered sink
ing spell that put her recovery back
for weeks.
CHAPTER XVII.
| Meta and Benoni made ready the re-
past. Betty and Larry and Johnny
traded experiences,
Think, Betty. think hard, urged