The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-01-13

sides, it was his way to say or do just
thrust his hand in his pocket and
slowly withdrew the letter he had
taken from the Kaffir.
This is for you." he said. 81
found niger hiding in the scrub.
He was waiting for you. His master
gave him a letter to be delivered into
your hands. Instead he gave it into
mine. The Kaffir is g. casual sort of
creature
Mary's resentment suddenly died
out. In its place had come a curios-
ity that was not without a dash of
fear in it. She was searching her
husbands face while he held the let
ter out towards her. She was won
dering, too. With a woman's quick
ness of perception she read something
of the mans feelings. What were
his thoughts? Mechanically she
took the note and held 1t without ev-
en- glancing in it's direction. Where
was the necessity? She knew it
was from Guy Chalmer; she even
knew the gist of its contents. New
ertheless she put an abrupt question,
and, at the moment, she was hardly
responsible for what she said.
who is it from?" she demanded.
Her husband shrugged and turned
to the window.
81 have not read it,"
Mary stared. She still held the
note between finger and thumb as she
had taken it. His answer was
strangely curt, and her fear increas-
ed. There was numb feeling in
her aching brain, and her heart was
thumbing in her bosom. There was
nothing cowardly in her nature, but
she had never seen Ferman reused.
And now there was a subtle force in
his quiet manner which she had not
seen before. and could not fathom.
You had better read it,"
He spoke again, and without turn
ing. And while Mary obediently un-
folded the paper she watched him
fill his pipe and light it.
At last he turned, and their eyes
met.
'.You are not reading your-letter'
he said.
mo"
The strong teeth gripping the
mouthpiece of the pipe made the
muscles Of his jaws stand out like
walnuts.
'swhy not?' he asked. without re-
Taxing his grip.
Mary's mind was made UP.
There is no need"
His eyes inquired. but his lips re-
manned silent.
81 know who it is. from, and
know what it contains" she went on,
in answer to the mute question. Then
she burst out passionately: "Oh,
what's the use of beating about the
bush? The letter is from Guy Chal-
mer, and it is to ask me to meet him
at q certain place."
She felt so ill that, once she had
begun, she could no longer control
herself, but swept on in a tide of
passionate bitterness.
Eyes," she cried. cit is what you
would call a 1ove-letter. A letter OF
fiery passion from a man who knows
how to love. who loved me three
years before you and I entered into
our loveless alliance. I know, be-
cause have just returned from rid
ing with hin-a chance meeting al
low-when he told me that he had
sent it. and what it contained. You
little knew what you were doing that
time when you asked me to cultivate
were thrusting upon me, and what
you were preparing for yourself.
had it in my mind to tell you that
night that Guy was my lover before
ever you knew me, but thought
thought was strong enough to car
ry the matter through for your sake
to spare you any disturbing thoughts
1
This letter is the result. You cannot
blame me. Blame your politics
which you say cannot understand
blame yourself. But do not blame
me. When I married you I haG
done with Guy Chalmer. 1t is you
who have flung us together again
But as God is my witness. I swear
that had no thought to wrong you
The mans eyes never swerved
from his wife's face. He listened
without relaxing a muscle. He
made no movement, but stood like a
figure OF stone. Now, at last, az
she ceased speaking, he removed his
pipe from the merciless Jaws, and
tho hand that removed it was per-
fectiy steady.
"You are quite right, Mary, can
not blame you, do not blame you
It has been my fault. No. I do not
want the letter." he added. as she
sprang from her seat and held the
paper out towards him.
.'You must read it," and she came
nearer and thrust it into his unwil-
ling hands.
Suddenly she reeled and would
| have fallen, but clutching at the ia