Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1916-04-13

| ~ LAO SiDOW. GCIIy
"Who told you to bring that?" Then
he felt ashamed of his petulance. ITS
| all right, George" he said, more gent
ally than he had spoken for many a
day, "but I don't want 1t. Take it
away"
He sat for long time and at last
came to a resolution. Alix loved roses.
He would send her enough to bank her
room and he would follow them home.
He went up the avenue to his florists
and stood outside trying to decide
whether it should be one mass Of blood
red or a color scheme. Suddenly the
plate glass caught a reflection and
threw 1t in his face. Gerry turned.
A four-wheeler was passing. He
could not see the occupant but on top
was large, familiar trunk marked
with a yellow girdle. On the trunk
was a familiar label. He stared at
it and the label stared balk at him and
finally danced before his mazed eyes
as the cab disappeared into the traffic.
Gerry stood for long while,
stunned. He saw a lady bow to him
from carriage and afterwards he re-
membered that he had not bowed back.
Somebody ran into him. He looked
back at the flowers massed in the
window, remembered that he did not
need them now, and drew slowly
away. Two men hailed him from the
other side of the street. Gerry braced
himself, nodded to them and hailed a
passing hanson. From the direction
Alix' cab had taken he knew the sta
ton she was bound for. AS he arrived
on the platform they were giving the
last call for the Montreal Express.
He caught sight Of Alix hurrying
through the gates and followed. As
she reached the first Pullman, some
body raped on the window of the
drawing room. Gerry saw Alans face
pressed against the pane. He watched
Alix stop, turn and climb the steps
of the car and then he wheeled and
hurried from the station
Where could he go? Not to his club
and Alan's. His face would betray
the scandal with which the club would
be buzzing tomorrow. Not to his big
comfortable house. 1t would be too
gloomy. Even in disaccord, Alix had
impaired to its somber oak and deep
shadows the glow Of buoyant life.
When she was there one felt as though
there were flowers in the house. Gerry
was seized with great desire to hide
from his world, his mother, himself.
He pictured the scare heads in the pa
pers. That the name of Lansing should
be found in that galley! 1t was too
much. He could not face it,
He bought morning paper full of
shipping news and, getting into taxi,
gave the address of his bank. On the
way he studied the sailings' column.
He found what he wanted. The Gun
ter due to sail that afternoon for Bra
zil, Pernambuco the first stop.
At the bank Gerry drew out the
amounted to something over two thou
sand dollars. He took most Of it in
Bank of England notes. Then he start
ed home to pack but before he reached
the house a vision of the servants,
durried after helping their mistress
off, commiserating him to each other,
plying him to his face perhaps, or in
the case of the old butler, suppressing
great emotion, was too much for
him. He drove instead to big de-
partment store and in an hour had
bought a complete outfit. He lunched
at one Of the quiet restaurants that
divide down town from up. The peo-
pie about him were voluble in French
and Spanish. Already he felt as if
his exile had begun.
The Gunter was to sail at three from
Brooklyn. Gerry crossed by the ferry.
He did not get out Of his cab. Over
his baggage, piled outside and in, he
caught a glimpse of the suspension
bridge. Years and years ago his father
had led him across that bridge when
1t was the eighth wonder Of the world.
Gerry gave a great sigh at the mem
DRY. He had not invaded Brooklyn
since. AS the cab threaded the in
terminable and reeking length of Fur
man street he looked out and felt him
self upon an alien shore.
He had avoided buying a ticket
As the Gunter warped out, the purser
came to him. II understand you have
no ticket"
"No," said Gerry, drawing a roll Of
bills. "How much is the passage to
Pernambuco?"
The purser fidgeted. "This is irreg-
ular, sir"
'Is it?" said Gerry, indifferently.
II have no ticket FORMS" said the
purser, weakening.
81 don't want ticket" said Gerry.
TT want good room and three square
meals day."
Long, quiet days on quiet sea are
master sedative to a troubled mind.
Gerry had great deal to think
through. He sat by the hour with
hands loosely clasped, his eyes far out
on the ocean, tracing the course of his
married life and measuring the
grounds for Alix' arraignment. Gerry