The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1916-02-10

Goodbye, my SOM" laughed Brooke.
You look considerably better. than
when came in upon you, last night.
Cheer up. old mani" He lowered his
voice. She isn't worth thinking
about. woman like that will say
anything. Put her out Of your mind,
and go and see your Eva
shut up" said Crawley, frowning.
81 wish you would keep that to your
self, Brooke. / was mad last night.
Forget all about it."
The two men had been alone for a
few moments. Diana Brooke was de-
spatching telegram to her dress
maker. She came up at this moment.
$50 you can't persuade him to come
with us, Godfrey" she inquired
archly.
mo. my dear; he's obdurate.'
We'll, goodbye, then, Mr.. Crawley.
] am so glad to have met you. Do
come down again soon," she smiled
bewitchingly.
1T is awfully good of you." the man
murmured.
they shook hands. He nodded
Brooke's back was turned for the
moment.
At last Crawley escaped in taxi,
and told the cabman to drive him to
4OA Grosvenor road, and sank back
in the cab and literally gasped with
relief. The strain had been fearful.
He had barely slept an hour all last
right The position had been intol
cradle. The very fact of being under
Godfrey Brooke's roof was unbearable.
He had sat up until about half-past
Of h,I
left them together in the coy smok-
ing-room of The Laurels, and had
listened to Brooke's eulogies of his
wife.
What wonderful woman she was
In Brooke's eyes, and what pearl
among women. How he loved her!
How blindly he worshipped her. With
what dog-like devotion he regarded
her. And. withal, with what sublime
trust! Every word and look Of
Brooke concerning her went to Craw.
ley's heart like knife-thrust in an
old wound. He waf a man of very
highly strung imagination. and the
midnight talk with his old friend had
caused him almost physical pain as
we'll as mental torture Brooke, was
full of plans for the future, and in
every plan Diana had her place and
"Ah, Crawley, old man." he said,
emotion trembling in his voice, its
great thing to have a home. I'm a
born wanderer-a gypsy. ! don't sup
pose shall ever settle down any
where for long. But for all that,
like to feel I've got a little place
somewhere on the face of the earth
to come back to when I'm tired.
How | used to- long for IL last
summer when | was out there in the
C,ngo sweltering under that precious
sun! Yes, Crawley, there's something
in every mans heart that responds
to the idea of home. My ain fireside,'
with a good, pure woman waiting
there for you. That's what's kept
me going. and what will again. /
haven't any doubt
These words repeated themselves
in Crawley's mind with peculiar IN
sistance%
He Tries to Think Of a Way Out.
What a hopeless muddle it all was,
All last night he had tried to find a
way out Of it-a way that was hon. !,
orable and right. He blamed himself
far more than he blamed the woman.
and yet, at the same time. he realized
that he was not altogether fair 10
himself
How could he possibly have known?
Even now the thing seemed incred-
ible and unreal, and there were mo-
ments when the sense of unreality
was so forcible that he expected to
awake and find himself sitting before
his fire In his Grosvenor road rooms
II was about halfpast one when he