The daily star-mirror. (Moscow, Idaho) 1911-1939, 1915-02-23
CHAPTER LIv.
The Wife.

The Wife.
Again three days elapsed; and Ju-
dith, returning from the double f1-
neral of her father and sister, dotted
her mourning for a gown less somber
and more suited to the atmosphere of
a sickroom, then relieved the nurse
in charge of Alan.
He remained as he had been ever
since the falling of the thunderbolt-
in absolute coma.
But he lived, and-or the physicians
lied-must soon regain consciousness.
Kneeling beside his bedside Judith
prayed long and earnestly.
When she arose it was to answer
a tap upon the door. She admitted
Tom Barcus and suffered him to lead
her into the recess Of the window,
where they conversed in guarded
tones in spite of the fact that the
subject of their communications could
not possibly have heard them.
give come to tell you something"
Barcus announced with characteristic
awkwardness, 1--WE known it for
three days-ever since the wedding,
in fact-and kept it to myself, not
knowing whether I ought to tell you
yet or not"
He paused, cycling her uncertainty,
unhappily.
ri am prepared" Judith assured
him calmly.
you're nothing of the sort" he
countered. argumentative. You
couldn't be. It's the most amazing
thing imaginable. See here :"
"Well?"
"You understand, don't you, that
Alan must never know that Rose was
killed by that lightning stroke?"
What do you mean?"
IT mean," the man floundered mis-
erably, you see, he loved her SOL
thought-Im sure it would be best
if you can bring yourself to ito let
him go on believing it wasn't Rose
who was killed, but Judith. And that's
skating so close to the truth that it
makes no difference: the Judith Alan
knew and the Judith / knew in the
beginning is gone as completely as
though she and not Rose had been
killed"
After long pause, the girl asked
him quietly: 81 understand. But is
it possible you don't understand that,
if l were to consent to this PROPOSE
tion, lend myself to deception which
l must maintain through all my life
to COMEDIAN would consider me his
wife?"
well, but-you see-you are his
wife. Oh, don't think I'm off my
bat. I'm telling you the plain, unvar-
nished truth. You are Alan's wife.
No, listen to me. You remem-
Der that day in New York when you
substituted for Rose, when Alan tried
to elope with her, and you went with
him to Jersey City, and stood up to be
married by a preacher-guy named
Wright-and Marrophat broke in just
at the critical moment and busted up
the party?"
''Well?" she demanded breathlessly.
Barcus produced folded yellow pa
per from his coat pocket and prof
fered it.
Read that. It was handed to me
as best man, just before the cere-
mony. Seeing it was addressed to
Alan and knowing he was in no frame
of mind to be bothered by kilograms,
I slipped it into my pocket and forgot
all about it temporarily. When I
came to find it, took the liberty Of
reading it. But read it for yourself"
The typewriter lines of the long
message blurred and ran together al
most indecipherably in Judith's vision.
None the less, she contrived to grasp
the substance of it's meaning.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU WIRE ME
SOONER" it ran: MARRIAGE TO
ROSE IMPOSSIBLE. REV. MR.
WRIGHT INFORMED ME- YOUR
TO JUDITH LAST |
WEEK HAD GONE TOO FAR WHEN
INTERRUPTED. JU-
DITH LEGALLY YOUR WIFE.
WOULD HAVE ADVISED YOU |
SOONER HAD YOU LET ME KNOW |
WHERE TO ADDRESS YOU. HOPE
TO HEAVEN THIS GETS TO YOU |
BEFORE TOO LATE
The message was signed with the |
name of Alan's confidential man Of
business in New York
When Judith looked up she was
alone in the room, but for the silent |
patient on his couch.
Slowly, almost fearfully, shs crept |
o his bedside and stood looking down
INTO the face of her husband