The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1915-04-13

without a tremor OF excitement. You
did not say you would wait for me
here but knew you would do so. The
hour Of reckoning has come. we
must pay. both of u3. am not fright
ened by your silence, James, nor am
afraid of what you may say or 90.
First Of all, it is expected that Frederic
will die Doctor Holder has proclaimed
it, He is great surgeon. He ought
to know. But he doesn't know-do you
hear? He does not know. | shall not
let him die"
One moment. II you please" said
her husband coldly. You may spare
me the theatres Moreover, We Will
not discuss Frederic. What We have
to say to each other has little to do
with that poor wretch downstairs. Ihls
is your hour OF reckoning, not his
Bear that"
You are very much mistaken" she
interrupted her gaze growing more
fixed than before He is part of our
reckoning He is the one great char
acter in this miserable, unlookedfor
tragedy Will you be so kind as to
draw those curtains? And do me the
honor to allow me to sit in your pres
ence." There was infinite scorn in her
voice u am very tired. have not
been idle Every minute Of my waking
hours belongs to your son, James
Brood-but owe this half-hour to you
You shall know the truth about me, as
know it about you. | did not count
on this hour ever being a part OF my
life, but il has to be. and | shall face
it without weeping over what might
have been. VIII you draw the cur
tains?"
He hesitated a moment and then
jerked the curtains together, shutting
out the pitiless glare.
"Will you be seated-there? he
said quietly, pointing to chair at the
end of the table
She switched on the light in the big
lamp but instead Of taking the chair
indicated, sank into one on the Oppo-
site side Of the table, with the mellow
light full upon her lovely, serious face.
sit there" she said, signifying the
chair he had requested her to take.
please sit down. she went on impa-
tiently. as he continued to regard her
forbiddingly from his position near the
window.
Il shall be better able to say what !
have TO say standing" he said signifl-
cantly.
"Do you expect me to plead with you
for forgiveness? ?" she inquired. with an
unmistakable look of surprise.
you may save yourself the humila-
tion of such"
But YOU are very gravely mistaken"
she interrupted Il shall ask nothing
of you"
Then we need not prolong the"
Il have come to explain. not to
plead." she went on resolutely. 81 want
to tell you why ! married you. You
viii not find it a pleasant story, nor
viii yoI be proud of your conquest 1t
win rot be necessary for you to turn
me out Of your house entered 1t
with the determination to leaee it in
my own good time think you would
better sit down"
He looked at her fxedly for a mo
ment, as If striving to materialize a
thought that lay somewhere in the
back OF his mind. He was vaguely
conscious of an impression that he
could unrayel all this seeming mystery
without a suggestion from her if given
he time to concentrate his mind on
the vague, hazy suggestion that tor
mented his memory.
He sat down opposite her, and rest
ed his arms on the table. The lines
about his mouth were rigid, uncompro-
missing, but there was look of wonder
in his eyes.
She leaned forward in her chair, the
better to watch the changing express