Grand Forks daily herald and the evening times., 1914-08-21

turn to the right In order to write to
one. All things were arranged for her
greatest convenience and pleasure.
Now suddenly the telephone bell
rang, and as she put her ear to the re-
ceiver there came over the wire the
sound of a voice sweet as the single
note Of a violin. Mrs. Bend loved
music and had a fine sense of it's
values. This voice called before her
instantly a vision of youth. shining
girlishness, Joy, vitality, soaring spir-
its. 1t sounded again, ana this time
there were several notes like a phrase
from some delightful symphony. In
listening to the harmony Mrs. Bend
nearly failed to catch the meaning of
the three words spoken. They were:
Here's your party
The voice that followed was like A
discord. 1t was the tired, infexible
Voice of a woman who has lost her
youth and her illusions and before
whom duty looms large. she was per
forming one Of her duties now. a daily
duty, indeed, and Mrs. Bend knew 1t.
How are You this morning, Mrs.
Bend?"
Very we'll. thank you"
I'm glad to hear it. It's a glorious
morning, isn't it? I hoped to go over
to see you, but I'm afraid that's i'm
possible. All my time is taken until
8 O'clock this evening. l might run
in a moment then just to bid you
good night. It seems to me 1 can't
let a whole day pass without seeing
you"
Come at 9 If you WISH" said Mrs.
Bend. you know I always sit up
late"
She hung up the receiver and let
her cheek sink into her hand. There
was a little picture on an wal frame
on the table close to her writing
things-the picture of a boy with
bright, dark eyes, impetuous lips, and
eager brow. Her gaze went to it now
and rested there wistfully. It was
natural that from hearing Beatrice
Morgan's voice she should turn to
look at the picture of the man whom
long ago Beatrice had loved and lost.
There had come a time in Mrs. Bends
life when he was her only remaining
idol. Her friends, even her nearest
and dearest. had gone one by one.
But she had still hoped and been
glad. for there was Harry. And Har-
ry was so bright, 80 gay, so spirited.
He was. sunshine and flowers and mu-
sic to her. She hoped for him. plan
ned for him, rearranged her life for
him. He. should be a great lawyer
and marry Beatrice Morgan. Beatrice
~.
Then suddenly he wrote to her that
he was married. He had mel the girl
in the city, where he had gone to
visit a friend-met her thrice and
married her. She was a dancer, the
story went, but how or where she
danced Mrs. Bend never heard. It
was enough that Harry had married
her. disgraced himself, and ruined his
career. It was left for her to tell
Beatrice. Her lawyer wrote to Harry.
ed her will, cutting out Harry's name
and putting Beatrice's in. And then
life began to flow onward again,
though with a more sluggish current.
Three years later word came that
Harry was dead. She had never
sought to learn what became of his
wife. She had put him out Of her
mind and attempted to put him out Of
her heart. But there was Beatrice,
and there was Harry's little picture
which he had given to her when he
forget. And she was very lonely.
Beatrice did not companion her we'll.
They were together much, yet eternal
ly apart. Beatrice had grown cold
and emotionless and heartless. Yet
she went in a gay company. She
played bridge, danced, sold flowers at
charity bazars, motored. dined, trav-
elled. She was. never still. Her ac-
tivities wearied Mrs. Bend. It panied
her to see the woman whom she had
chosen as the proper filler Of her place
and wearer Of her name fooling her
life away on inanities. She wondered
II she had not, after all, been mis-
taken in Beatrice. Yet she chung to
Beatrice, who was all she had.
With a sigh she returned to her or
r~espondence. Letter after letter she
glanced at and tossed aside. She had
been receiving the same notes from
the same people for yer half q CEN
fury and there were no surprises in
them. But suddenly her eye caught
a CLEAN Of color gay postcard.
Here was something new. The peo-
pie who wrote to her ordinarily did
not use cheap postcards. She snatch
ed the card up and scanned 1t eager
~. It bore this message in a delicate
hand:
Dear Mrs. Bend-work il slack
now, and any time you want me to
make over that dress you spoke about
III do II. Yours truly,
MRS. WHITE
Nh. Band looked pleased. Here