The Yale expositor., 1915-07-22

before you do.
HUH" contemptuously. an be-
lieve that when see it,"
He ate his grapefruit in grumpy
silence, the paper propped up before
him. His cereal he pushed away
with an irascible, whats the matter
with that cream? Looks like it's
| blued!"
"He didn't leave nothin' but milk
this mornin', sir. That's the top of
the bottle" volunteered Emma, as she
came in with the bacon and eggs.
Helen poured the coffee and served
Warren with two eggs and three
pieces OF bacon, and herself with one
egg and two pieces OF bacon.
"Why in thunder can't | ever get
bacon cooked the way want it? This
stuff's burnt to crisp" rapping il
with his fork. -s''ssE,s,n.sS3--
Dear, she does cook yours less
That doesn't look very we'll done"
"You mean that's the way you want
it-burnt to a shriyel. How much
nourishment do you thinks in that? II
l didn't get good square lunch-rd
not go far on this breakfast"
"Why, dear, you know l want you
to have everything just as you want
it." ..'.---'--..-s-'.'.-,
Huh, l know that bluff. You taRe
mighty good care to have things your
way. You want your bacon like dried
chips, and your boiled eggs hard as
bullets-so I've got to stand for the
same kind of fodder"
Helen did not try to meet this TRADE
with argument Instead she rang for
the maid.
Emma" as the girl came to the
door, after this don't cook any Of the
bacon so much. I'll take mine the
same as Mr.. Curtis. Cut it thicker
and don't crisp it."
But even this effort at Cancellation
Warren ignored. Having gulped down
his second cup of coffee, he took up
his paper, pushed back his chair, and
STROBE out into the hall.
For a moment Helen's hurt resent
ment kept her from running after him.
He was getting into his overcoat. She
heard the rattle OF his cane as he took
it from the rack-then the opening OF
the hall door.
"Warren!" She darted after him
but the door had closed.
Even then she felt he would come
back to kiss her good-by, with an
ironical, Thought I'd gone, eh?"
The seconds passed. She opened the
door. He was not standing before the
elevator. The hall was empty.
Shall put this cloth in the wash,
ma'am-or will it do for lunch?" as
Helen. heartsick, passed the dining
room.
"Yes-oh, no, It doesn't natter"
running to the front room window.
A delivery boy with a basket, a
couple of girls hurrying to work, a
stumbling old man in wind-whipped,
threadbare coat-except for these the
street was empty. Warren had al
ready turned the corner.
1t was foolish to feel so wretched,
she told herself with passionate reas-
surance. She had done nothing to irri-
tate him. II was not her fault. She
|
But Helen had the feminine trait
of magnifying the thing that dis
tressed her by the simple process of
brooding.
| BY noon she had visions OF Warren
leaving her altogether, and of herself
facing a loveless and destitute old
age. The impulse to do something"
to avert these threatening calamities
was irresistible. She could no longer
keep away from the phone. She must
call him up before he went to lunch.
His stenographer answered.
Eyes, Mrs Curtis, Mr.. Curtis Is
right here. Just a moment!"
"Hello!" 1t was Warren's voice,
curt and hurried.
"Oh, dear, couldn't help calling you
up" quiveringly. Tin awfully
sorry about that bacon.
'Eh, what's that?"
Tim so sorry about the bacon"
Talk up, I can't hear you," impa-
tiently. wait minute, Miss Middle
ton" to his stenographer, who was
evidently tipping Now, what is it?"
Something in the curt, matter-of-
factness of his voice helped restore
Helens sense of proportion.
"Oh IL" floundering desperately
for something to say, II can't find the
name of the laundry. I thought maybe
you'd have IL down there"
oh" in impatient disgust, II can't
bother about that now. Colonial
Cumberland, some such name. Look
II up in the book. BY the way, / met
Stevens in the subway; they want us
to come to dinner Thursday. See If
I've got a clean white waistcoat."
Helen turned from the phone with
hysterical desire to laugh. Would
she never learn? II was always like
this-she was always anguishing over
something to which Warren had not
given a thought.
Did other women wear themselves
out in Just such futile hours of USE
less vouth- wasting worrv7 Were the