The Western outlook., 1915-10-30

that he had boyishly dreamed to lay
at the feet of the woman he loved with
an old-fashioned knightliness of heart
happy little surprises of their daily
comradeship that had lowered their
uphill path of toll and struggle; the
joy and pride that they had taken Ii,
their children; their pleasant neigh
borhood interests and intimacies. But
now that he knew that the purple and
fine linen of life were necessary to Lee
titia's happiness, that she had bitterly
felt their lack, every mishap suddenly
seemed part and parcel of his failure
to satisfy her, and Inundated he hid
his fears deep down in the depths of
his sensitive, hurt soul.
And more and more chill grew the
air that swept down from the snow
covered enthusiastically the mer-
curry fell and rose again-fen and
rose.
The smuggling pots were put In
readiness. An extra supply of crude
oil laid in. A dozen times night Dig
by was up, his head out the window.
Then with the unexpectedness OF
the long expected the blow came. In
an hours time, the mercury dropped
ten degrees. And the sun was still
shining a pale, .sickly shine.
"A killing frost tonight" was the
bulletin of warning read in dumb ST.
lence throughout that fruit-growing
world.
But it was a brave world. No
thought of supinely giving up until
driven to the last ditch. War had
been declared. That was all. The
fight was on.
In the darkness of night and the
death grapple Digby's garden of gold
en- beauty and promise was suddenly
transformed into hell Of ghoulish
ugliness lurid with leaping flames,
belching forth black clouds of smut
ty smoke.
His face dull, blank white, hunt
ed look in his eyes, hour after hour,
the master of the garden worked like
a demon possessed-and knew that all
his labor, all his expense, was In vain.
At last, just as the hooking bright
ness of dawn was flushing the dark
ness of the eastern sky, Digby, leaving
the fires in charge of his hired man,
staggered back to the house and, steal
ing in like a thief in the night,
dropped exhausted upon the living
room floor.
At the sound Of the stealthily-open-
ing front door, Letitia, who had spent
sleepless hours lying dressed on the
foot of the bed, sprang eagerly up and
lighted her candle.
Then suddenly strange, sickening
sensation went through her entire be-
ing.
Something someone had fallen.
She ran into the hall, and, holding
out her candle, peered into the black
depths below.
"Digby!" she tried to call out, but
her throat closed and she could not
articulate.
She had no recollection of going
down the stairs, but an instant later
she found herself in the living room,
her shaking candle held over the I'M
conscious form at her feet.
The pale light from the candle &C
oentuated the white haggardness of
her husbands face, the black smudges
of SCOT that gave it a weird uncanni-
ness.
"Digby!" she cried, frantically shak-
ing him by the arm. "Digby!"
There was an answering tremor In
the crumpled body. A stir Of move
ment. Slow lifting of the heavy eye
lids. A deep-drawn sigh.
She set down the candle and ran for
water-a glass of wine Kneeling by
his side, she gently forced her arm I'M
der his shoulders, raising him into a
sitting posture, his head pillowed
against her breast.
Another failure, Letitia," he fall
tered at last. ''All-our oranges-are
gone"
What difference does it make about
the old oranges!" she cried ioyously,
tears streaming her cheeks. What
difference about anything, so we still
have each other! Oh, Digby you gave
me such fright! thought you were
deadI"