The Fayette falcon. (Somerville, Tenn.) 190?-current, 1915-06-11

the Londoners
were at last aroused.
The mournful sound of a distant fife
and drum, then a hearse with a flag
draped coffin and three closed car
riages passed slowly by. These sad
little professions were becoming daily
more frequent.
She went into the bedroom. AS she
gazed moodily across the narrow
courtyard, a woman's form was sud-
denly outlined against the drawn blind
If lighted window. Her every move
ment was clearly silhouetted.
Helen watched her, fascinated. With
lenched hands she was walking up
Ind down the room. Then she dropped
Ito a chair, her face buried In its
Cushioned seat, her shoulders culver
ing with conclusive sobs. There were
abandonment and abject grief in every
line of her slender figure.
Something that looked like a news
paper lay on the floor beside her.
aelen's thoughts leaped to that daily
column Of killed and wounded.
At any other time she would not
have followed the impulse that now
came to her. But the war had broken
down many barriers. A common dan
ger and sorrow had brought people to-
gether; ordinary conventions were
brushed aside.
The next moment Helen was hurry
ing down the hall to the apartment
opposite. It was some time before her
timid ring was answered.
WHO is it," asked a tremulous
voice, the door opening few inches.
MRS. Curtis-from the apartment
next door," faltered Helen.
The door opened wider, the woman
still shielding herself behind It.
I'll know you're in trouble" Inn
pulsively. Il saw you through the win
dow-the curtain was down, but !
could see your shadow. Don't think
me intrusive, but / knew you were
alone-and l couldn't help coming"
The wOman's only answer was to
turn back into the room and throw
herself sobbing on the couch. Helen
followed, constrained and awkward.
After all, what could she do-what
could any stranger do?
ITS someone-in the war;" gently,
drawing q chair beside her.
The head on the pillow nodded.
Helen took one of the hot. clenehed
hands in both of hers. She could
think Of nothing to say, nothing that
would not seem meaningless.
A small desk clock licked harshly.
There was a sound Of Goals settling In
the CRATE. A faint creak Of the chair
as Helen stirred.
Then the woman sat up and looked
at her duly.
''oh, it's not what you think" reck.
lessly. tits not my husband or my
brother-or anyone whom can grieve
over openly. That's why I'm alone.
don't dare have anyone with me-any-
one that might know"
Helen felt tightening In her
throat; she did not attempt to speak.
''He was brought home yesterday
wounded-fatally, the papers said
That's all l know. l can't go to him.
can't even telephone-they'd know
my voice" She looked unfiinchingly
at Helen, "He's-another woman's hus'
band"
Helen did rot start or draw back;
her hold on the hot hand frightened.
This morning l drove by in cab
The blinds were down, but there was
no-crape. I'm going again tonight
oh. it's torture-not knowing"
Abruptly she rose and took from a
desk drawer Q leathercased photo
graph. II was q strong, clean-cut face
Of a virile Englishman.
There was nothing the whole world
couldn't have known" her burning
eyes were on the picture. And yet
now that he's dying I'm almost sorry
there WASN'T" defiantly. Can you I'M
derstand that?"
Helen nodded.
"Oh, we're more natural, more prfm.
tive in times like thesel That's why
| can tell you this. And yet" slow
-Iy, IF he should get well-it would
be Just the same. Oh, we've made
such q waste OF our lives-such pitt
full waste! II was all my fault, but
I've paid for IT," bitterly. I've paid
for cee foolish. hysterical moment
with six years OF torture.
six years" breathed Helen.
I'VE were engaged she steadied
her voice. oh. II was such trivial
thing We quarreled overt And he
he took II seriously. He threw NJ