Middletown transcript. [volume] (Middletown, Del.) 1868-current, 1911-09-16
TIE AWAKENING
e. RoLANp AsHFoRD FHILLIPs

thiAg of his life apart from her
How he wished that he had
| neverbrought his lone y bachelor
friend home to dinner with hin
one fateful night, 10 disturb
their erstn lille happiness!
Two days later, Paul again saw
the physician. They talked ri
the approaching operation, it,
time and expense, in calm,
brutal manner. And yet, il
spite Of this Paul began toadmire
the big hearted, pleasant voiced
Doctor; and before the week end
his respect deepened.
Boy, the physician said, plac.
ing hand upon his shoulder
some how he always called him
that-you're putting a lot Of
faith in me, aren't you? I'm
glad, for / shall treat the little
girl like one of my own.
She's such a tiny bit of flesh and
bone And in two short
weeks she'll be back to you.
The physician conducted his
own private hospital, aud it was
just as Paul was leaving that q
sudden, pitiful voice arose, hush.
ed only by the abrupt closing OF
o door somewhere upstairs. His
face blanched and he half caught
his breath. The doctor smiled.
They all do that, Boy, he ex-
planned; always cry out for some
one when they are awakening.
I've never known it to fail. Gen.
orally they want some one they
think the most of. That little
boy was calling for his mother.
Paul felt a quick pain in his
throat. This then was what
people did when they awakened
from the opiate, called for the
one they thought of most.
Oh, if only! He stumbled
blindly out of the door.
Janet went to the hospital a
day before the operation. Paul
took her there one night after
supper. They remained in the
big empty antecham Der until the
nurse beckoned them upstairs,
ushering them into tiny, i'm
maculate room. Tt contained a
high, white bed, and a white
enameled chair; that was all.
He tried very hard to calm
himself when he kissed her.
Goodnight, he said, softly.
Goodnight, Paul. But she
shrank away ever so slightly
from their personal contact.
He could have cried out in an
agony of disappointment at the
complete failure of his last at
tempt at reconciliation; and he
wished he had not kissed her,
only to learn of his defeat, and
the utter use lessness of his ever
thinking of resuming their lives
together. Yet he longed, with a
longing which shook him to the
foundations of his being, for one
little word of comfort in this
hour of parting.
He went back to his apartment
and closed the door behind him.
Then he tried to read. But
some how his mind wandered
back to the cherries little room
and the white bed.
He got up and walked through
into the dim bedroom, now so
barren, for all the world like a
rosebush stripped Of its flowers.
He snapped on the lights and
sat down before the little dress.
ing table, fun bling over the
mirror the powder box, the
dainty brushes and the clutter
of feminine belongings. On a
chair lay her house gown, a
shimmering thing of blue and
gold. He lifted it, tenderly, his
throat choking, his eyes misty.
Beside the bed, he
came upon her slippers, empty,
.mocking bits of silk and leather.
He turned them over and over
in bis hands, thinking, thinking.
God knew how much he needed
her!
With a dull heart he lowered
the lights and went to bed; not
to sleep, but to lie and stare,
listening for a sound that never
came. If only he might hear
her voice, or the tap, tap of her
tiny. slippered feet across the
floor! Time had been when he
fancied that their parting would
be a relief; but now he under.
stood things better. The utter
loneliness of the room crushed
upon him like some brutal hand.
The next morning he stumbled
down the Avenue and turned in
at the studio, where clutter Of