The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1911-03-15

big chair by the window, a heaVy
shawl thrown loosely around his
shoulders. The ravages of his ill
ness were plainly apparent. The
big hands, white and bony, droop-
ed inertly from the chairs arms.
His close-cropped head rested pas
sively on a pillow. His position
by the window threw the angular,
uncomely profile into sharp relief.
marking the hollows and pallor of
his face. In his eyes was the
tired, wistful expression peculiar
to fever convalescents. She felt
in them still another quality, a
deep sadness bred of no mere
physical weakness.
He felt her gaze. His head turn
ed slowly to face her. He looked
at her wonderingly, without speak
ing. His hand brushed across his
forehead in a troubled gesture, as
one would brush aside dream
that fingers overlong. She strove
to give her words a conventional
tone.
I'm glad you are recovering so
rapidly, Mr.. McAdoo."
His face lighted up in an in
credulous eagerness.
Are you-real? was just
thinking of you. And sometimes
my fancies get the better of me
nowadays"
He got to MS feet uncertainty.
She saw the effort it cost him in
his weakness. Slowly she crossed
the room to his side. He held
out his hand hesitatingly. She
put her gloved hand in his; he
caught it in a strong clasp.
you mustn't stand" she said
anxiously. you aren't strong
yet"
He sank back into his chair. AS
he did so, the shawl fell from his
shoulders. Tremblingly he stoop-
ed to recover it. But she was
swifter than he. She threw it
around him again. AS she drew
her arm away, 1t brushed against
him. For the first time their
eyes looked away.
She took the chair where Kath-
leen had been. For few minutes
there was an awkward silence.
She gazed steadily out of the win
dow, lest her eyes outrun her
tongue in explaining her coming.
He could not know that in his
weakness and new-found humility
his appeal was stronger to her
than in his old superb, arrogant
strength. 1t was he who at last
broke the silence. The words fell
haltingly, uncertainty.
II can't quite realize it. Often
! have thought of you as being
here-there are so many things
I wanted to say to you. Now
seeing you therein that chair
She turned to him eagerly, her
eyes pleading with him not to
misunderstood. II had to come
to acknowledge my fault"
Your fault? But"
Eyes. My shameful fault!
Don't you see, owed it to myself
to come"
With an effort he seemed to
bring himself to the reality of her
coming. In the sudden forceful-
ness of his reply she saw a hint
of the Bob that had been.
You mean-Pau1 Remington
But that is not your fault. II
only-am responsible for that. j
tried to shape his life after mine
"a poor model, Mrs. Gilbert. i
tried to cut him off from his hap
piness. Being what he was, he
had to leave me. And there were
Others - who were tempting
him. We were too much for
him."
"Ah! But 1 made it easy for
him to yield by making him dis
contented-"
1T began before that. But
that was your right, too. / tried
to cut you off from your happi-
ness"
Butt makes what I did the
more shameful = my happiness
was not involved, Mr.. McAdoo."
He shook his head -gravely. at
might have been. He was very
lovable." He used the past tense
in which we speak of the dead.
Again their eyes fell apart, and
there was silence. He looked
out of the window; his face was