Norwich bulletin., 1915-12-01

It was the last evening aboard be- fore the ocean liner would arrive in harbor. AS usual. the passengers were gay at their best, each one trying to outwit and surpass the others in the brilliant conversations and stories which were current in the grand sa- loon. The fair ladies in beautiful, fluffy gowns gave a frothy, light hearted touch to the scene, while the .sedate and dignified black of the mems evening clothes seemed to hold in ball. ance the scales of Friveiity and Seri ousness. In the farthest corner of the room stood a group whose laughter and witticisns seemed to excel. At the first strains of music the party broke and swung into the dance. Only one couple remained; the woman stood looking a moment unseeingly at the throng of dizzy dancers, while the man thrust his hands into his pock- cts and sank into a chair wearily.
 Something is wrong, Edward; your laughter and gayety was too thin a cloak to deceive me. Can be of any assistance to you?" Verna Huntly sat down beside her companion as she spoke.
 Everything is wrong; you know it. I am bound for America, but why? It has no claims on me now, for I cast aside all when I deserted Louise"
 Verna leaned forward and laid a SO1l, JOWCAlCQ 1dNlQ uPOn HIS dIIIl Louise is your wife: she will never forget that. Go to her and she will forgive you"
 But, Verna, I cannot goI she is so innocent. I have done wrong, but could never tell her a falsehood; and thing"
 You poor boy; just go to her and stay with her. Show her you still love her and she will ask for more"
 "Oh, but I am afraid he said brokenly
 'fBut don't be. for she will be sat- isfied. I know, for I have loved" she said as a final appeal.
 Edward sat a moment, looking into space; then shaking his head sadly, he looked at Verna and said:
 Its no use. l am coward, guess, " and, rising he walked slowly out of the room.
 It was raining on deck, but he want ed to be free from the forms and af- fected ceremonies of society. He was angry with himself and felt that the world must hate him. He felt walled able something which filled his soul with depression. His steps Jagged and his breath came quick and heavy as he slowly circled the deck. As he reached the bow of the steamer for the second time, a sudden Iurch of the ship hurled him against the rail. The sharp blow, coupled with a strong gust of wind which struck him full in the face, brought him foreefully from his apathy and made him conscious of the flashes from a distant light house. Unthinkingly he counted the flashes; two long ones-a pause-two short ones-a pause-and then one long red flash. He started forward to count again, his breath coming in gasps. Yes, 1t was Sandy Bar lfgh: -'thome."
 He watched it until it was lost from view: then sinking his face into his hands he saw visions of former days. As a boy he saw himself playing on the rocks at the root of that selfsame Lighthouse. He thought how often he had run the light himself He saw his father slowly climb the narrow stairs, ever faithful to his task He saw his mother cooking and sewing, always singing at her work. He grew up and brought his pretty bride home she was the orphan daughter of the wealthiest shipowner in the nearby