Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1912-06-18

the woman. with weary spirit, once
more took the part she had played SO
often
Dear friend" she said, smiling at
him with eyes slightly moist, Il under
stand. too have suffered she added
with little sigh Perhaps the good
that comes out Of our suffering is tina:
we can comprehend and sympathize
with each others sorrows"
The man looked at her with some
thing more than gratitude. She col
ored under his gaze and turned her
eyes toward the river, waiting for him
to speak. When he did it brought her
back to earth and things earthly with
a shock
"Ah, here at last is our teal" he ex-
claimed in his natural voice as the
waiter deity arranged teapot and ac-
cessores on the table Are you sure
you want a hot drink on day like
this ?" he queried doubtfully as she
raised the lid of the teapot and the
steam arose in a cloud
Yes, indeed" she answered u
don't think l could exist without my
afternoon tea l take it always"
We'll, on second thought, If you don't
mind. l will take something cool" said
Maynard. Driving was dusty work.
and my throat feels like a newly mac
adamized road. Waiter! a Scotch high
ball!7
oh" Beatrice said. hesitatingly, as
the settler foamed into the tall glass Of
ice. do you really care for that?"
AS old Jake VanWinkle. out in Jer-
the sperrit what's in it, he laughingly
replied.
But isn't it bad for you?" she asked
tentatively. Don't you become depend
ent upon ito"
Let the Matter Drop
No more than you do upon your
tea" he answered teasngy
She said no more about the matter,
and he turned the conversation to other
things. They sat long over the, table
and Maynard ordered another high
ball before they left Always a facile
talker. he was at his best today anus
ing, witty and quick with retort II
was almost dark outside when Beatrice
reluctantly said it was time she was at
home. and, arising prepared for de-
parture.
In few minutes the pair were again
seated in the smart trap and rolling
rapidly eastward toward her home
The air was a little chilly now, and
the high strung horse snorted eagerly,
evincing a desire to bolt, which forced
Maynard to keep a tight grasp on the
md har -
command from, him now and then.
Beatrice was chatting gaily when the
horse, frightened by a boy on roller
skates. who darted past his head. SHE'D
violently. IN a second Maynard had
pulled the whip from the socket and
cut him cruelty along the flank. The
horse leaped forward, but the merciless
grasp on the reins threw his head high.
and he could only plunge and shrink
under the rain of blows which the man
now white with rage, showered upon
him
The scene lasted for only a moment
or two. but it seemed hours to Helen.
as, with hands pressed against her
cheeks she flinehed at each angry hiss
and cut of the lash She looked APP
pealingly at the man, but his face was
hard and set and his lips contorted into
a cruel smile. When the beating had
tired his arm he laughed a short. ugly
laugh.
Now behave YOURSELF" he ordered, !
as he replaced the whip in the socket.
Helen was silent the remainder o:
the way home. Maynard was gay and
did his unsuccessful best to make his
companion smile. But she was grave
and taciturn. All her life she had
loved horses. Her father had raised |
them. and she had known them from
her babyhOod She remembered what |
her father would have said to Maynard |
had he, instead of she been the wit
ness of the cruel scene. She found it |
impossible to talk as if nothing had
happened.
AS Maynard helped her from the trap
she thanked him politely but coldly, |
for the drive and the pleasant after
noon. Then. before Maynard could |
climb again into the trap she stepped |
swiftly to the horses head, and laid |
her cheek against the velvety. CULVER
ing nose.
When the widow reached her own
apartment and her own room she stood !
still for a moment feeling faint and |
weak. She recolIected with sick shud-
der how once when Tom Minor had |
been drinking, he had beaten a dog he |
owned.