Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1916-01-13

was ueiHdnueu Ol Her. oeuge uiC
most of the talking. He told stories
as only he could tell them. He touch.
ed seriously on important questions OF
the day. He was witty, brilliant
pert. sas'.
'... 'am IN rt,r 3,
has o.d Fuyi.IU-u. was atsu
with the thought of the honors that
he might win but for his accursed
slavery.
Once, she knew, there had been
some talk of making him some sort
foreign consul or ambassador; but
I'd mysteriously fallen through.
explanation had been vouch-
None had been asked for.
a ined his cocktail and the
le .ner wines, contentng himself
wit vater-a great deal of it. And
he ate little. But he smoked inces-
santly-lighting cigarette after Gig
arctic, beginning at the salad course.
Geraldine left them just before cof-
fee and waited in the music-room,
playing lightly-something of Greig's.
A fit of restlessness was upon her.
She thought of the book the money
that Merrol had said it would bring
her, and the promise of release that
that it held. To be free of him-this
cultured, charming tinsel man of alb
horrent weakness To be able to live
her own life-unhampered! 1t was
too llluring to dream of-much too al
Turing to come true! If it could!
She was eighteen. Her life was be-
fore her. She was still lovely. All
things were possible. She might meet
a man who could compel from her the
all-absorbing love of which she knew
that she was capable. There might be
children!
Her fingers dropped from the key
board. She rose, crossed to the Win
dow, and looked out. The cold, white
waste, shining in the moonlight, was
like her own life-like her heart.
Spring and summer had been succeed
ed by this dreary desolation. But
there might be reawakening!
GERRY, dear!" called Morris, inter
rupting. won't you sing for us?
Ive been boasting outrageously, and,
naturally, Connant doesn't believe
me-"
She came back slowly to the piano.
"Sing?" she cried. "Sedge, l sing
so poorly!"
She detested to sing before stran-
gers.
"Im sure you do not!" said Con-
nant politely. "Please, Mrs. Morris" 4"
She took her place before the piano.
"What shall it be?" she asked,
Struggling.
Sedge had been turning over the
music in the rack. He opened a
double sheet before her.
"This," he said. 1t was Tosto's
"Beauty's Eyes"
A stormy look flashed into her face
-rebellious, defiant, humiliated-and
faded. She began to sing. Her voice
was very low and soft and sweet.
She kept the accompaniment down
or it would have drowned her out.
But there was something strangely
moving in the tone and quality. Her
husbands eyes dwelt upon her visit
fully, proudly adoring. At the end
he breathed little sigh of content.
"Thank you," he said And she saw
tears glittering in his dark eyes. Be-
tween them it had significance, that
song, for about it were twined recol-
lections of the days of his wooing.
Again, as she looked up at him,
Geraldine wondered if there were not
Sill chance of his pulling up. And
when Connant's cordial applause had
broken the spell she laughed at her.
self, marveling that she could be mis-
led by his penitence. And when he
chose song called 81 Love You" to
follow, she sang it unmoved, we'll
aware of his plea for her forgiveness
in this. His pretty conceits no longer
touched her. She had learned the
debths and quality of his regard.
When she had finished the second
song and had played Chaminade's
"Flatterer" without prompting from
him, she rose and excused herself to
Connant, insisting that he would have
business to discuss with her husband,
and, escaping to her own room, curled
up on the couch, desk-pad ON her
knee, her bank-books in pile beside
her, and began to estimate how much
her mother required by the year, how
much Scott required, and Agnes.
If only the book would enable her
to meet these demands, she herself
could manage on what was left. She