Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1912-06-21

grace to the humble, | who speak TO you
should know that
There was a curious proud humility in
his words that gave something almost Of
fensive to their tone He said no more.
Jack Rimington, with strange sinking Of
| the heart. stod for moment or two at the
| foot of the great carved bed, looking a
the shrunken face that lay yellow against
the snow of the pillow.
what do you mean, uncle?" he asked
at last
But David Rimington's eyes did not un-
close. He appeared to have fallen asleep.
Jack would have liked to have put
some question to Mrs Remington as to the
meaning of his uncles strange words but
she had never appeared so unapproachable
| for the most part, during the dinner that
was served with a solemn state in the
| beautiful paneled dining room, whose win
dows looked on to the garden and the
stretch Of the river, she was silent Her
| few words were entirely of the past-of a
season she had spent as girl in Vienna
os the gay, light wickedness of the city,
that even now had left its glamor of fas
cinated horror over her mind
A Strange Vision.
After dinner. when she went to her
husband S room, Rmington made his es-
cape. He felt like a prisoner released as
| he sauntered through the dewY garden
and out on to the path by the river.
The night was very quiet Although
it was nearly o'clock, It was twilight
still-a shimmerng, gray light, star-pow
! dered, hung over the river that reflected
| il like a winding ribbon of glass From
the ascending woods on the bank beyond
there came at intervals the faint cheep-
fboa iUb+ IA
sound. the world seemed given up to him
self alone. lie stood still, looking down
at the slow moving water. held fast in
the grip of so gray a misery that he
turned from the contemplation Of the
river with a sort of shrinking horror
AS he turned he saw the fIutter Of
white dress along the footpath at some
distance ahead Of him. Perhaps It was
the association Of Ideas; he had so often
seen the flutter OF 5etty's dress among
the trees at this very spot and followed
it as signal. But he seemed now to
know beyond doubt that this moving fig
ure was Betty. She walked swiftly and
yet uncertainty, pauslng now and again
hesitatInqIy, as though she sought for
something by the water, for some thing or
some place.
For a moment Rimington's heart stilled
What did she seek? His mind was quick
to leap to the first morbid suggestion.
He dreaded some rash act contemplated,
and, hurrying, gained on her. AS he
reached her he saw her stoop down, kneel
by the shelving bank of the river and
plunge her hands and something they held
into the gray water
For a couple of seconds Remington stood
motionless, watching Betty as she
crouched there by the edge of the water
The girl was absorbed in herself and her
action: it was obvious that she did not so
much as thing Of an observer. He could
see her in profile very distinctly, although
the gray light and the shifting shadows
gave a certain unreality, a look of mys-
terry, to the slim, white clad figure; he
could see the expression of her face the
new look that had come TO her with this
illness-a bewildered look like that of a
child who has strayed into new mex
plicable world.
What was she doing? Just for mo-
ment he wondered if he had happened
on some action of self-reveation, and
even as he wondered the girl rose up from
her half crouching position and he saw
the thing she held Only dripping hand
kerchief with which she feverishly rubbed
her hands, uttering a little moaning cry
as she did so. 1t was a thing too bitter
|
a step forward
Betty" he said
She started at the sound of his voice
and Turned quickly, He saw that her
face lit up at the sight of him-not with
the love-light he had learned lately dow
to surprise in her eyes, but a naive child
ish pleasure.
why. Jack she cried. Then, as
though she remembered her dripping
hands and some secret connected with
the sodden handkerchief they held, a fur
tive look crept over her face like cloud
What are you doing out here at this
time. you bad boy?" she demanded IT'S
ever so late, isn't it? I say" she paused
and looked at him with the mimicry Of
childishness that if it had not been so
infinitely pathetic. would have been gro
tesque., You won't tell Edith you met
me here, will you? She's grown SO tire
some lately dreadfully mollycoddling
A Suspicion.
1t was all SO unreal that for moment
a suspicion that the girl was playing
part gripped Rimington. It was gone in
a moment, leaving behind sting of
shame that he could ever have enter
tanned it.
mo. I won't split on pal But what
are you up to?' he said coaxingly Then
as she shook her head with frightened
look, he added, carelessy: It's awfully
jolly out here in this fight. isn't it? The
river is like mirror. ! say. l guess what
YOU were doing, Betty, Looking at your
self in the water like that silly individual
who fell in love with his own reflection
what's his name?"
He paused on the question Betty gave
a chld's frank laugh
\ 4.
a frightful IDIOT wasn't doing any
thing so silly-you will never guess what
was doing Her voice sank and she
crept nearer to him Washing my
hands; they're so horribly stained. and
can't get them clean, however hard 7
try. I can't. l can't The childish pet
ulance in her voice deepened to note Of
tragedy She looked down al her hands
and began again that feverish rubbing