The Washington times., 1913-08-26

U
| senses. The doctor gave them nope
that he would soon return to conscious,
ness and that his convalescence Wouli
be speedy and practically certain:
| Gradually there developed constant
interchange of opinions between them
about the sole Question-after Philip
| that was uppermost in their heartsr
| tnat was uppermost in all hearts III
those days, the war between the sec
items. Neither made The slightest ell
fort to conver- the other to her way OF
belief, yet the discussion did much 10
ameliorate prejudice and soften animos-
ity in both women. Differences of opin-
:on seemed small things anyway in the
presence Of a precious life hanging In
the balance. Zach woman did the other
good.
IT was fortunate from one point OF
| Ii,.,y that Grafton continued IL such
| differences between the two, growing
| out of their common devotion to the
\ one man, were held in abeyance after
the first shock had passed because OF
| their intense desire for hi, recovery.
II he died tine terrible bereavement
Sauld make all their sorrows fain. AMI
| there would De no longer cause Tor
| strife between them; II he lived; the
common passion would add to the an
| guish in both their hearts, and N
for the present they thought only of
MIN. The future must take care Ct
Itself. II would beNt to decide when
| the moment arose. Each woman sought
only to live in the present In her hope
/ for Grafton.
Most of the soldiers wounded in the
war received but Indifferent care and
| suffered from "a of attention, but no
man was ever watched and served as
| Grafton. The shrewd old doctor, pleased
at the unusual situation, with the North
and South both urging him On, de-
| voted his best efforts to the case. and
finally announced to them that in all
probability Grafton would recover his
. consciousness shortly, and, II no COM
plications set in in a brief time he
would be on the road to convalescencc.
Moved by a common impulse of joy
and thanksgiving, the two women
| turned and clasped hands, forgetting all
! else for the moment but that.
That night Ariadne, who was not on
watch, spent the hours deciding what
! she should do when her husband be-
came conscious and out of danger. and
making some preparations required by
| the decision to which she came The
necessity for acting on her conclusion
! came upon her sooner than she had an
ticipated. The two women were at
breakfast together in the long, Old-fash-
| ioned dining-room, with its pleasant
outlook upon the broad fields OF the
farm, the administration of which
Kathleen in the absence of her broth
er-the two being without father or
mother-had taken upon herself. The
woman who relieved them in the sick
chamber while they took their meals
| together came suddenly into the room.
Hes awake, ma am, she said in
great excitement, looking toward her
mistress He's been-leastways he
opened his eyes and wanted to know
where he was. and / told him not 10
speak, that I'd fetch somebody that
would explain
I'll ynI Of aNh Tfh
in silence. What would happen now?
II was Kathleen who spoke first. To
her the woman had reported.
Go back to him: and say to him
that he is not to talk, she said. Tell
him that the doctor will be here pres
emily and he will explain everything"
And did-did he say tanything-
else?" asked Ariadne.
Nothing that / could make out.
answered the woman. He seems to
have some arithmetic on his brain. 1t
was something about addin.'
CO. cried kathleen. angrily. Why
do you leave him alone?'
The two left behind in the dining
room we'll understood that Philips
mind was not bent upon arithmetic.
Into the mind of the wife flashed the
consciousness that her name had been
first upon his lips. She laid her hand
upon her heart as if to still its throb-
bing Kathleen leaned forward. her
arm outstretched upon the table.
L suppose now you will go TO him?'
she asked, fiercely.
There was a long silence.
We'll, why don't you speak? You are
his wife, you have every right; am
nothing"
I shall not 20 to him." returned Ari-
adne quietly, but her lip trembled. Il
shall never go to him again"
What do you mean? You are his
wife"
In name only. II shall never be
anything else"
DO you contemplate divorce?''
Il do not believe in that: but, At
least / shall never trouble him again.
! see now that he did not love me. He
has never cared for me as-as a hus-
band should. Oh, yes. he was always
good and kind but it is different |
shall go away and never trouble him
again. Perhaps God will have pity upon
US and make him free"
You don't know what you are say
ing! cried Kathleen. "Wh you leave
him to me?"
Was there some hidden threat in that
question? Ariadne could not tell, but
she did the magnanimous thing never
theless. She stared hard at the older
woman. and Kathleen could scarce sus-
tain her gaze, although she was as
fearless as woman should be.
MIS-. Manning, said the Southern
girl-and the word shook kathleen's de- |
termina toni have known you a very |
short time. but l have studied you as
few women have ever been studied be- |
fore. / wished to know why Philip loved
you"-a wan little smile that seemed
more like a sob spread across her face
you are beautiful; much better TO look
at than l. and"
'You don't know how good-Iooking
you are"' cried Kathleen, sharply. Ari- |
adne shook her head.
And you are sweet, as well. Oh! yes, |
you have a temper; you are as impul- |
sIVE as We are accredited with being
down South; but you, au fond, are gem
erous loyal. true. Your husband trusted |
you-and he did well. !, too, leave him |
in your hands"
no duplicity in her nature. She spoke
innncentlu What WAS In her sad haa II