The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1914-01-21


Ing TO be searching her TO the soul
then only his features relaxed and
softened
Il am sorry. Di" he said quietly
Even IL there was reason I should
not have the right TO ask IT, ! think
AL this work has been getting on ihy
Drain. You will stay with us until
until she is safe
Yes" she said Her breath was
coming more easily. The moment was
over. He had been suddenly brought
sface 70 face with circumstance
(which she had recognized and fought
with hours before. She knew what
was passing In him, for she, too, suf'
Efered, and she was conscious or a
scurious pride in his calm and regained
yeentleness II shall stay az long as
fyour wife needs me" she added quiet
Ny"
He smiled--the old onesided smile
(which In that moment hurt her Dy
Hts unconscious resignation
That will be long time, ID, III"
teaid. "You have been such splendid
Efriend to her She Will miss you more
hhan she knows But il can't be help
led. Others have more claim on you.
Tile took out HIS watch. The doctor
has promised 10 he here with the
nurse by SIX" he went on He told
lime there was nothing too fear TOT
1.-THE next few hours. But | am glad
,you are staying with her. one can't
nell-and you would let me know at
once. wouldn't your
"Of course. David -
He stood hesitating. al the door
Il think I'll go and see her nov
Tell Smith when he comes 10 wait
downstairs for me. ! shant DE I0ng.
iGoodby."
she felt that he was looking back
mt her. The desire 10 go 10 him ana
take his hands. TO OFFER him, II only
in that silent farewell touch. her UNI
'derstanding and sympathy, broke over
her with violence that frightened
Ter. She fought IL down and nodded
10 him with cheerful courage.
Good luck and big majority
she said
Thank you" He closed the door
softly after him and went down the
corridor TO his wife's room. He was
rot conscious OF any particular sen
sation. After that sudden violent flash
OF pain a kind OF numoness hac
crept over him which kept him merci-
fully from himself. He scarcely knew
whence the pain had come. Diana was
would marry Hatherway That was
almost as inevitable as the rest. Dick
had always kept his place in the run
ming But he wished she had not said
that about the big majority" II was
almost as though she had laughed at
him And he had fought hard-as
hard as he had once run in those chill
dren's races when he had always been
beaten and when her goOd-natured
laughter had stung him TO an i'm
potent frenzy. But that had been In
the day when he had loved her. IT
was strange--that time seemed closer
to him, more real than the present
He opened his wifes door and en-
tered on tiptoe. She lay in the center
OF the great fourposter, her small
dark head thrown back upon the dead
white OF the pillows, the two plaits
of black hair hanging over either
shoulder in symmetrical order The
delicate arms lay stretched out on the
coverlet and she seemed TO sleep.
Hurst drew closer bur he did NOT
touch her or speak. lie stood at the
foot OF the bed and watched her. She
might almost have been a child, so
pathetically small and fragile did she
appear in the wide old-fashioned bed
and yet her face was that OF woman
who had suffered He saw the lines
of pain about her mouth and the hol-
f1ow cheeks, but he felt no tenderness.
mo pity. He only knew that he was
glad that she was asleep. He could
no longer draw himself back into the
atmosphere To which she belonged
The time when he could have thrust
y the world and the turmoil OF life be-,
hind him and enter freely into her
tr 10 al
ness but frozen Indifference which
ached DULY. persistently. like an old
reopened wound. Ii hurt him. tie
strove TO shake il oh--to rouse him
fself 10 a normal feeling He called
10 mind that this was his wife and
that she stood on the border-land OF
death But he felt nothing. She was
a total stranger TO him. He could not
place her In his life. 1t was difficult
for him TO understand how she came
TO him in this solemn, dreary English
bedroom where generations OF hts
5 race had first seen the light Only
when he shut his eyes and recalled
the memory OF a temple shrine lying
ip the midst of the waters and be
meath a sky OF unchanging blue did
she become real To hmas a vivid
dream is real 10 the dreamer. But II
~ was no more than a dream. and when
he looked at the motionless figures
,lying before him II faded wholly She
was only the .shadow OF that half
divine being who had knelt before the
altar In the midst OF the dying lotus
blossoms, and she had become a
shadow in his life.
He turned and left the room as
quietly as he had come A kind of
mental WEAKNESS shielded him from
the remorse that had been stealthily
creeping over him. keeping measure
with. the fading of her image from his
mind. He realized that today il In
4 ey!tably the child OF yesterday and
that this disease had not come upon
B him suddenly. but subtly and i'm.
perceptibly Or was IL a disease? Was
a IL not rather the awakening OF HE
N abilities, stunted by discouragemep
and his own diffidence, the natural DE.
sire to enter the worlds lists and
leave the unreal world OF dreams be
< hind him? The dreams had been a
Temporary refugee phase OF his de
velopment--and she who belonged q
\ them. who was stranger 10 the
world, had been stepping stone-tc
| what--to whom? lie shut his mind
" sfernly against the answer. Stronger
than either remorse or love was the
Y sense OF his responsibility He owed
\. her his life-z-and that she should have
h 10 the last hour. Today was 10 sec
Bill 49, ana ~ hfs hrfef mart unon tho