Middletown transcript. [volume] (Middletown, Del.) 1868-current, 1911-09-16


smile into the white face against
the pillow. He would give any
thing now il they had not made
such q fat failure of their mar.
ried life. And here they were
on the verge Of separation. It
frightened him; the picture OF
his lonely future without her
rose up before him, and be long
ed to take her in his arms, to
hold her close, so close, and beg
her to begin all over again and
give him q chance against this
other man that he knew must
have come into her life. For
Janet's illness had awakened his
dormant love for her. He made
faint attempts to break down
that cold reserve of hers; but
all to no avail. He hated him
self when he asked, in an almost
perfunctory tone: Feeling better
now?
Of course. She seemed to
draw away from his outstretched
hand, which was struggling to
hold her limp 6ngers-never
were fingers so perfectas Janet's.
feel all gon 9 inside, I'm glad
It's over.
You'll have to be quiet. now
and rest, he murmured.
He got up and puttered aim.
lessly about the room, straighten-
ed chairs, stacking up some books.
From the depths of the chair she
watched him, her eyes unusully
wide, the first color beating
softly back into her cheeks.
Paul, she said, after an in
terval, come here. I want to
talk. He obeyed dumbly. The
doctor said-said there would
have to be an operation, didn't
he? she went on, as the husband
stood beside her, his hard grip
ping the edge of the table.
Yes, Janet, he answered.
it'll take a whole lot of
money, won't it, Paul?
Quite a sum, he told her.
More than I have in the bank;
but the doctor said I might pay
along from time to time.
And you-you want me to go?
she faltered.
Want you to go? he repeated.
Why, Of course l do. Why
should you talk that way?
Money isn't everything in this
world
It doesn't seem quite right, my
asking you to-pay-under the
circumstances, she went on,
family, her hands tiuttering on
her knees. We had been talking
of-Of-
He put up hand. Let's not
talk about that today. You
need me now! 1t may be the last
thing I can do for you, he said
sadly. I want you to be well and
strong.
The silence fell and deepened.
Then the clock chimed.
There, it is long after bedtime,
he spoke up. We've all to NOR
row to talk. Try and sleep now,
won't you?
In the morning he went down
to the studio, his brain still
muddled, his pulses uncertain.
Janet was so much better that
she could move about her room.
He had breakfast sent up to the
apartment. As usual, he ate
alone.
Paul was cursed with temperA
ment; and the few years of his
married life had not been happi-
ness, nor content. He was viii
ling to shoulder oil the blame.
The people Of his storyworld had
wrapped themselves about his
heart, demanded his time, his
labor, and his love. So, Janet
had had a tangible reason for
feeling herself neglected.
Paul had realized the situation,
this ever widening gulf between
himself and Janet, for some time
now. And, in his bitter hours,
when bis puppets refused to do
his bidding, he had conjured up
the inevitable Other Man.
He felt sure that her interest
Ia the Other Man had developed
into a passionate love. Only the
other night he had surprised the
two Of them in a very like
pose. And in that instant his
love for Janet was greater than
ever before. How happy they
had once been together!z Paul
wondered despairingly i, it were
too late. He would make one
more attempt tc break through
that cruel wall Of reserve. And
il that failed well, things must