Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1913-02-22
The Daily Story
HER RETURN-BY CLARIssA MAcKIE.
Copyrighted. 1918 by Associated Literary Bureau

them and thus bring herself imme-
diately into the swing OF the old life.
Her slender. girlish figure was clad in
pale blue linen coat and gown. with
veil the same tint shrouding her white
hat She stepped across the turf with
eager feet. her charming face now
rose red with anticipation, now lily
pale with sudden dread.
The low. rambling house lay quiet in
the hot sunshine. The broad verandas.
awninged and vineclad, seemed TO be
deserted. Her glance wandered TO the
launch. The party had boarded her
and were lounging in wicker chairs
about the deck. Norman was at the
wheel. She saw his backward glance
at the house. The whistle footed i'm
pudently, and they were away, cutting
the water into n thousand twinklins
" lights and a shower of falling spray.
When they had rounded the point she
hurried across the drive and entered
the veranda. There was a litter of
smoking things on convenient tabO-
rets, heaps of sporting papers and gay.
ly covered magazines. A siphOn, de-
canter and tray of empty glasses
were on a round table and bespoke re-
cent refreshment. 1t was very like old
times when she had gone away for a
few weeks and left Norman to hold
bachelor revels with old cronies. She
smiled at the disorder 1t was all SO
natural that the past three years were
blotted out as If they had never been,
She was merely returning home from
a days shopping in the hot town.
Thus she deluded herself.
The wide, cool hall was quite desert.
ed. The polished floor gave back blur.
red reflections Of the heavy furniture.
The huge fireplace was crowded with
fresh branches of fragrant bayberry.
The library door was closed, but other
open doorways offered cool vistas of
drawing rooms, billiard and dining
rooms. The stairs wound in q broad
spiral to the second floor.
Genet paused, her eyes lingering on
each well known object. There was no
change in the arrangement of furni.
ture. Even the hatrack bore its Gus
tomary heterogeneous array OF coats
and caps, riding crops, golf sticks and
tennis rackets. With a quick nervous
gesture she threw back her veil and
turned to the library. Before she
sought her own apartments she would
peep In here. And now the creeping
fear at her heart found shape and sug
gestion.
If her portrait, the one Glddy had
painted, still hung over the fireplace in
the library. then all would be well;
Norman would be forgiving, would re-
lent His mothers picture had graced
that space until Norman married. and
then it had given place to Genet's. And
now that she had forfeited her right
would 1t be there? If not she would
steal away from the house and never
return. The answer to her questioning
heart lay behind the closed door.
Suddenly she turned the knob and
slipped inside. closing the door softly
behind her. Then she leaned painting
with emotion against its mahogany
surface.
The long room lay in shadow save
for one sunny window at the farther
end. Here high backed winged chair
was placed.
She fell to trembling as she heard the
flicker of a turning page behind the
winged chair. In the silence it SEEM
ed as II her heart throbs would betray
her presence. In her joyful imaginings
of her return to her husband there were
no such fearful terror and apprehen-
sion as came upon her now. Her glow
ed hands wrung together in a supreme
effort for control. Suddenly a little
sigh of relief escaped her Perhaps
no one was in the room after all!
Then, as If her sigh had been heard
a voice came from the chair, a voice Of
quiet inquiry, Norman's voice.
who is there?'
Genet's lips were dumb.
"Who Is therei' he repeated. And
after another silence the winged chair
creaked with his uprising. Genet's
glance flashed to the fireplace for cour-
age and reinsurance, and then a great
| joy came into her dark eyes.
Her portrait was there in its place
and beneath 1t a vase of fresh violets
Norman came down the room, his
eyes half blinded by the sudden change
from the sunlit window to the gloom
| of the room. Genet saw that the
| smooth chestnut of his hair was fieck-
ed with silver; that his face was worn
and his eyes were weary. Then the su-
| preme moment came when he saw her
and recognized her. PuZzlement gave
| way to surprise and something else.
| What was it?
He stopped abruptly, one hand rest
ing on the table. his deep gray eyes
fixed upon her face. white as snow
against the dark paneling.
81 am sorry. | have come home. I
love you, Norman" she whispered.
Then she hung her head, not daring to
look into his beloved face.
| Afraid? Afraid Of me? Why. !
have been waiting for you all these
years.
Safe in her husbands arms once
more. Genet Saville knew that her
greatest punishment would lie in the
knowledge that she had brought scr.
! l..