The Richmond Virginian. (Richmond, Va.) 1910-1920, 1911-09-02
l Learn What i Have to DO.

Learn What / Have to DO.
did not sleep very much that
night, but it was no longer the frus-
trate misery Of indecision, / was
done with all that, with beating my
self aimlessly against blind bars and
running weary circles In the wheel,
with tossing helplessly in d mesh OF
irresoluble circumstances. / saw now
what l had to do; and the problem
was not what the trouble might be,
not even what / must accomplish.
but only show ] should accomplish
1t. The Carucci story might be true
wholly. or in padt or practically not
at all; 1t did not matter. Assuming
all of it. N Lady was Miriam. and
Reid had married her when he was
not free to do SO, she was not his
wife even In law, Whether his wife
was now living Cd dead made no diff
ference. Lady was not bound to him
| in theory and certainly not in reality.
| She was free TO come to me If she
chose. and l had only to make her
/ See 1t.
But l did not for a moment believe
| that the trouble was so directly her
concern. Mrs Tabor was insane, or
was feared to be: that was beyond
doubt. and that beyond q doubt was
the root and center Of Ii ali, that
was what the family had SO elab-
orately strtven to conceal, either be-
cause of the nature OF her Illusion.
or because OF some scandal in the
events which had brought It about.
| That was reason enough. granting
| their determination to keep it secret,
/ for all that l had seen. from the
midnight alarm. which had driven
me out Of the house. TO Mrs. Tabor's
terror of the alienist; and her all
/ surd suggestion that he himself was
! insane clenched the matter, What
! supported X still more was that II
7 this were so, then all these honest
I people had from point to point
spoken the truth; Mr. Tabor had, as
| he said, trusted me 70 the edge OF
caution; Lady had told the truth in
/ fear. aud Reid under pressure, Sheila
had told the truth, only inflated and
colored by superstition. And as l
! thought over the substance OF what
she had told me. l wondered whether
/ by some chance her tale had not
been truer than l thought, nearer
than even the others knew to the
heart OF reality. l would not take
/ her ghosts too literally; but Mrs.
Tabor might have some illusion OF her
dead daughters presence. and I re-
tIlSIilDGEtd tuS ApAte CdItto nam
that had spoken in the circle of
spirit seekers: Was there not sure
! ~ some connection heres
Yet, however that might be, it all
closed round a single need. ! cared
nothing. after all. what the shadow
! might be. except as that concerned
! my taking Lady away from il, 1t
would be like her loyalty to feel the
family trouble a. bond that she must
not selfishly break. and like her girl
| hood TO dream her mothers de-
I fusion a faint that must forbid her
marrying. But she was wrong in
/ both, and tomorrow / should tell
her so and take her away with me.
Even IL she were right. / should do
the same: / had grown TO care for
the Others and | was not wholly care
less OF humanity: but in the face of
this greater matter. family and race
and right itself. II mead were, might
so to the devil. l was fighting for
her and for myself. and for that
/ wherein We two were one desire.
! l feel asleep at iast thinking of
that. and imagining what / should
need TO say and do. and the next
morning l went out to Stamford In a
curious mood Of elaboration: feeling
on the threshold OF crisis, UNI
naturally calm and sure; as If /
We're somehow going with the stream,
a small embodiment of pre-determin-
~ed force, d 'tnouthpiece VI the thing
which was TO be.
AS she had done once before Sheila
/ opened the door for me. II was very
plain that she was glad of my COM
Ing.
Sure IT. Mr.. Crosby" she exclaim-
I ed softly. w hats the matter. sir i?
You hook white and tired like. It's
ali the world seems upset lately"
81 want to see Miss Tabor. Sheila
VII you tell her that l am here?"
That's the very thing I'm rot TO
| tell her. sir. She said most particular
that she was not TO Sec any one to-
/ day, but Sheiia frownod at rne
forbiddingly, you sit down an wait
a minute. SIR. an I'll do me best
I'm servant-girl no ger-ordhers
Is nothing TO me"
/ But, Sheila-~" l began nervously
But nothin'. Mr.. Crosby. You SIT
| down an wait, and she was gone
before l could say another word.
sat in the great room. as Il at the
portals of Judgment day, every fiber
OF me keenly alive. and yet my mind
knowing no particular focus OF
thought The future CAPPED before me
| like eternity, something too vaguely
remember that ! kept whispering
dryly to myself that man was master
of his fate. and feeling enthusiastically
| comforted by the sophistry.
The curtains at the door parted.
and Lady stood looking into my eyes.
l saw before she spoke that she knew
why I had come.
II was sure that It was you." she
| said at last. ''Sheila told mo that
a young man was down stairs. and
that she could not get him to go
away"
She told me- I said, that you
did not wish to SEQ me. Was that
| true?"
| Lady sank YEARLY into a chair.
| 'Sheila should not have let you in"
| she said. II was afraid that you
might come here; and you know that
! II was wrong Of You to come. You
know that as well as I do"
She spoke monotonously, with
I pauses between the words leaning
back along the deep chair. The last
/. few days have been hard ones fer
her. She was very pale. the little
blue veins In her temples distinct and
clearly lined. II tore me to see her
so; and for a moment l wondered
/ II l had done we'll to come, and felt
wave OF that uncomfortable re-
action which meets one on the
threshold OF a test; for a moment
only, then l knew that even though
! T tfraI har he