Evening star., 1912-10-06

acquaintance which husband and VIE
must possess.
She trembled in every limb, for the cold
aloofness of those words, "Mrs. Waverton, :
argued i'll for her achievement; but she
forced herself to speak.
"Claude,' she said again, and her voice
was strangely sweet and low, II have ven-
tured to disobey your wishes because felt
that if you and could open our hearts freely
we might reach an understanding not to be
attained by the written word. Forgive me,
Claude! am acting for the best and, if you
will only listen to what have to say, prom
Use to obey your final decision, even though
you bid me go away, and never try to see or
speak to you again"
Waverton raised hand to his eyes in
gesture of pain that was new to his wife's
devouring gaze. "Oh, you should not have
done this thing." he muttered, and his face
looked white and drawn; though during
these later days he had, in the opinion of
Rice and others, seemed to be recovering his
strength rapidly.
Il could not help it, Claude she pleaded.
"Some secret impulse more powerful than
myself urged me to take the long journey
from the coast, and not waste moment be-
fore sought you out"
She drew little nearer, and gaining con-
fdence, looked up at him. How thin and
worn he was! How his illness had aged him!
What different man from the bloated, red
faced creature from whom she had fed more
than year ago! Yet suffering had restored
that air of distinction, of refinement, which
her girlish fancy had found in the bride
groom, only to lose all sense of its existence
in the man who had wrung her very heart
strings by his maltreatment.
"Your letter forbade an answer, know"
she went on with growing earnestness; but
ever since you saved our dear Kathleen life
l could not bring myself to believe that we
were parted forever. Claude, won't you say
something? Must be forced to believe that
you really wish to thrust me out of your life
forever? Indeed, indeed, am not here to
reproach you! Rather would l vow to you
and with you, on our knees if we mingled Our
pledges with prayers, that the horrid past
shall be forgotten, that we shall strive to
help each other in that forgetting, that, in
sharing the love of our child, we shall strive
to blot out memories of all the wrong and
misery that have gone before. Oh, Claude,
do listen to me! Don't turn away as if your
heart was still hardened against me. If my
words offend, then give no ear to their TN
studied form, but try to realize that they are
yelling up from the depths of a wo1nan's
nature, woman who is still your wife, and
who must ever remain the mother of your
child"
"Please, please, Mrs. Waverton-Doris-
do calm yourself" he broke in, and his utter
ance was husky, as if he was fighting against
some overpowering emotion Il would have
made any sacrifice rather than have this
happen! You are distressing yourself un-
duly. I am quite unworthy of such chivalry
on your part You must remember what
divided us was wholly to blame, and you
would be mad to trust yourself again to a
man who behaved SO despicably. SO out
rageously. am sober now; but shall 60
back to the swine trough,-it is in my blood,
and then indeed you would have cause to
bewail your lot! Yet, as say, am perforce
in possession of my senses for the hour; SO
let me apologize for my conduct, and let my
regret be the measure of my sincerity in
urging you to leave me now and for all time
THOUGH his wife was strung to pitch of
agitation that was almost unbearable,
she caught some new cadence in his voice,
some note of deep reverence and unavailing
sorrow, that made divinest music in her ears.
Never before, even in the blithe days of
wooing, had Claude spoken in that way.
How he had changed! His manner with
women, even at its best, was apt to be tru-
culently jocular; yet now he was addressing