Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1912-08-12
"The Gates of Silence
By Meta Srmmln5, Anfhoy 0f"Hnthed Up"

as Anthony Darlington opened the side
door Of the house and pointed 10 the slop-
ing thatch Of a roof visible far down the
garden
THAT is the studio" he said III you
wish 60 reach il vouH get wet. ! am
afraid-if that matters"
IL did not matter in the least: the girl
felt she would rather walk miles In the
downpour. even across ground as sodden
/ and rain -drenched as this garden that
/ stretched before her where the water lay
/ heavily on the surface of the clay it had
/ beaten TO paste. rather than remain in
| that grim room with its odor Of stale
/ spirit and tobacco, its air Of desolation.
81 want TO 60 to the studio" she said
/ and forced herself 10 smile. striving TO
act S though those last words Of his had
never been spoken, as though he had not
/ put her own formless fears and suspicious
into shape.
Without a word harrington plunged
down the single step that separated the
| three foot-wide bricked path which sur
rounded the house. He was hauess, in
slippers down at heel. Bettys eyes for
the moment were held by the sight Of
/ that slouchinE, unsteady figure going be
fore her in the gray Norfolk suit that was
dirty rather than shabby
Tony She repeated his name in her
| heart Ike cry Tony" She had not
realized before how dear he was to her
all the kindness he had shown TO her In
the past Just for moment her thoughts
flashed back to that last Interview with
her lover on, as they both thought. the
eve Of his death, and how he had urged
her to trust herself and her affairs to
this man. TO this awful wreck Of a
man. Remington in his prison Of stone
walls, or this man in his prison Of the
spirit-who was the most 10 be ptied-
for whom, in that moment. did her heart
bleed most? she asked herself
Almost as though something Of her
thoughts had touched him. Darlington
sackened his pace and waited for her
at the edge of a path in the wilderness of
neglected kitchen garden through which
they were passing The barn he had
converted into a studio doomed up near
them now, long brown building with a
matched roof on which gray and yellow
IIchen spread. and tan tufts Of antirrhi-
mum, bending under the weight Of the
raindrops on their caps and bells
81 meant to have asked you-if don't
ask YOU now l shall rorget-have you any
news Of Rimirkton2 How is his case
There was something brutal in the
question in the mans way Of putting it.
that hurt Betty as though he had struck
her in the face. Yet as she looked al
the haggard face beside her, at the
twltching, peering eyes she could not be
angry. She could only feel a great sor-
row rushing over her
why, no, Tony" she said There is
nothing new. II Is a question Of patience
now-pauence and hope"
And Faith.
And faith" Darlington said. with an
accent Of indescrbabIe bitterness 81
suppose You believe in the man. YOU poor
little fool In his goodness, in his mar
tyr's heroism. Don't BE true to him.
If YOU will, but exalt him to no altar in
your heart. Whatever he was. he'll be
ia poor enough wretch when he gets out
BE thankful if he is not worse"
Tony ! hate to hear you speak So"
she said, and tears were choking her
You're Ike all women--you hate to
hear the truth Rimington retorted un-
locking the studio door with a key from
his pocket. The door opened into a tiny
ante-room, screened from the rest of the
studio by a thick curtain harrington
drew her inside locking the door behind
q
wringing would have been the better
word-the rain from his thick hair. then
he drew aside the curtain and Betty en-
tered
The air struck warm and pleasant after
the damp Of the garden: a large stove
glowed rubN-red at one end of the long
room-that was her first impression: the
next, of the neglect over everything-the
upturned rugs that covered the floor. the
dust that lay thicklN on the polished sur
faces OF the furniture-for the room was
comfortably and even beautifully fur
nshed. 1t was not for an instant that
her eyes took in the significance of the
Cauvases about the walls, when she did
$50 she felt a shiver Of repugnance run
over her. They were all studies of a
womau's head-sketches OF expressions
each terrible and grotesque. and in every
case the model had been the sanchez
sister Edith
harrington hardly appeared TO notice
her look or the effect of il upon her. He
had walked to the end Of the studio, to
where, Just below the little platform
where the stove glowed red, stood an easel
with a picture on it, over which had been
thrown covering
"This is great work. Betty" he said.
Its not finished but may heaven send
me light and strength tin it is. It will
make my poor name live. Though /
say il mySelf-it is laundering good,
Betty. It amazes me that / should have
had the power. after ten years OF mere
preiunesS, to so to the naked soul of
things like this. Look at II, Betty. ism {
II worth even the moral degradation Of
the excellent Nanna's isapprOhation?'
He drew off the covering with a -four
ish. though Betty. her nerves strained to
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