New Britain herald., 1916-02-01
Jacks Farewell Note.

Only something Of the utmost 1m- portance I knew cou1d have induced my brother-cousin to write to me. He was too careful Of my welfare to excite Dicky's runreasoning Jealousy by letter, unless there was desper- ate need for it.
 Finally I sat down in an arm chalr by the window, and breaking the seal, drew out the letter.
 Dear Cousin Margaret 1t began.
 I thought involuntarily of the last letter Jack had sent me, the one an nouncing his return from the WlldS of South America, and asking me to dine with him and celebrate his re- turn after a years absence.
 That letter opened with the line, Dear Little Girl" and closed with, Always yours, Jack
 But when he had written the first letter, he had not known that l had married during his years absence in n land so wild that he could neither send or receive letters.
 He had come back to civilization to tell me something of which l had never dream med-so like brother and sister had we been-that he loved me and wished me to be his wife.
 l Qlu IOL 1lhe LO IoIil0IuOCI piS iO~ on his face when, after he had told me, I had made my belated cohies- sion-that I was married.
 I turned to the letter again.
 Dear Cousin Margaret:
 T have decided suddenly 10 go across the pond and get in the big mix-up. You perhaps remember that I have spoken to you frequently of Coi r6 who has hapn with me in many a ticklish bit of work. He was with me in South America, and like me heard of the war for the first time when he got out of the wilderness. He is Frenchman, you know, and Is going hack to offer his services to the en- gneering corps.
 And I am going with him, Mar garet. I think I can be of service over there, and Caillard is the best friend I have. As you know you are the only relative have in the world, and you are happily and safely mar ried, so I feel that I am harming no one by my decision.
 eff Anything Should Happen X "We sail tomorrow morning on the It will be impossible for me tc come to your home before then. So this is good-by. When I come lack, if I come back, I want to meet your husband and see you in your home.
 And now I must speak of a little matter of which you are ignorant now, but of which you must be told before I go. Before your mother died I had made my will, leaving her everything I possessed. for you and she were all the family I had ever known After her death I changed her name to yours. If anything should happen to me my attorney William Faye, 149 Broadway, will attend to everything for you. He is also my executor.
 Most of what I have would have come to you by law, anyway, Mar saret, for you are my nearest of kin'-isnt that the way the law puts it? But you might have some un- pleasantness from those Pennsylvania cousins of ours, so I have protected you against such a contingency.
 And now, Margaret, good-by and God bless you.
 Your affectionate cousin, Jack"
 I finished the letter with a numb feeling at my heart. It seemed to me as if one of the foundations of my life had given way.
 When Jack had left me after that miserable reunion dinner where he had been hurt so cruelty by the news of my marriage during his years absence, he had said-ah, how well I remem bered the WOrds-"I shall not see you again, dear girl, unless you need me, if you ever do. I can't be near you without loving you and hating your husband, whoever he may be, and that is a dangerous state of affairs. But wherever l am, a note or wire to the Hotel Alfred will be forwarded to me, and if the i'm possible should happen, and your husband ever fail you, remember, Jack is waiting, ready to do anything for you"
 I had not expected to see Jack for months, perhaps years, but the know iedge of his faithfulness, of his near ness, had been of much comfort to me. And now he was going away, probably to his death.
 NIadgc Goes to Telephone.
 The most bitter knowledge of all was that which forced itself upon D1y mind. Jack was going to the war because he was unhappy over my marriage. He had not said so, of course, in the letter which he knew my husband must read, but I knew it. The remembrance of his face, his voice, when I told him of my mar riage, was enough. I did not need written words to know that perhaps ] was sending him to his death!
 I think I must have moaned aloud at the cruelty of it all, for in a moment I felt katie's hand on my shoulder.
 "Oh, Missis Graham, dear Missis Graham vot de matter? You seeck ?'' She glanced at the letter in my hand. Somebody dead? You feel bad?''
 This was intolerable. In her warm hearted affection for me she was quite capable of mentioning my