The midland journal., 1915-10-29

their neighbors at that other table.
Harry Lyons, I'll collapse If this
goes on an hour longer" The hand
some woman had her hands clenched
in her lap.
"You mean you'll have this whole
room full Of people see you make a
Ounce of yourself, If you're not care
full" said the man, with quiet sar-
casm
What do / care for this room full
of people? Pm sick of them and Of
everything. We've made a complete
mess of our lives"
And who made the mess, | won
der? How many women know when
they are well of? l dare say most
people who would see you living in
this big hotel with nothing to do but
dress up and come and go as you
please would think you were having
things pretty easy, and yet you talk
of collapsing. You have had homes.
but none of them suited, and now
with the finest suite in the best hotel
in town you are less contented than
ever
We'll you have thought of nothing
but making money and have left me
nothing to do but spend it,"
when we had our first home out
in Woodlawn / had to hustle to meet
the payments, but it was too quiet
and the days were too long for you;
then moving from one apartment to
another and taking up with swifter
set Of people at each move, we've
finally landed where we are, with not
single real friend about us just be-
cause we haven't been real ourselves.
I'd have been glad enough to be at
home many a night that we have been
gallivanting around"
ooh, of course, woman always ex-
poets to be blamed when things go
wrong; since Adams time men have
been entirely consistent in that one
way"
Just at this point an elderly gem
tleman diner called the head waiter
and sent him to the orchestra leader
with a message written on visiting
card. A moment later, the singer,
responding to an encore, smiled in the
direction of the elderly gentleman
and in her clear voice began to sing
Home, Sweet Hame."
Mabel was fascinated with the fate
of the handsome woman who had
been quarreling with her husband
At the first few words of the song
her eyes had scared expression,
then a faraway, Infinitely sad one,
and gradually her head sank lower
until her chin rested on the roses at
her corsage. The man lighted three
cigarettes and threw them aside in
an incredibly short time When the
singer reached that line about "An
exile from home, splendor dazzles in
vain," the woman's head came up
quickly and she looked appealingly
at her husband
Then she attempted to rise, but
grew white and swayed, the man just
barely managing to catch her as she
fell. Many diners rose, but the hus-
band held his wife with one arm and
ACAA OuI lAC OInCI To
those about him. Again the tense
ness extended to all the people near
him. Just as the singer concluded the
song, the woman raised her head and
without seeming to know that any
one but her husband was near, said
in pitifully tired voice. "Our exile
is over, Harry; let's go home"
Mabel and Alfred were perhaps the
only ones who knew all that she
meant. When they were putting on
their wraps afterward Alfred saw
tears in Mabel's eyes, but neither of
them spoke until they reached the
sidewalk.
"I've seen enough of glitter tonight:
let's not go to the theater," said
Mabel And when they reached her
little home in an old-fashioned fiat
Alfred told of his promotion and Sc
cured her promise to help him build
a home like which no place would
ever be found.