Middletown transcript., 1917-03-31
By MARY |
ROBERTS |
RINEHART |
| was safe. She would never wither for

was safe. She would never wither for
him.
Where before she had felt the clutch
Of inexorable destiny, the woman's fate
now she felt only his arms about her,
her cheek on his shabby coat.
"I shall love you all my life," she
said shakily.
His arms frightened about her.
The little house was dark when they
got back to it. The Street, which had
heard that Mr.. LIE Moyne approved of
night air, was raising it's windows for
the night and pinning cheesecloth bags
over it's curtains to keep them clean.
In the second-story frame room at
Mrs. McKee's, the baritone slept heav-
lily, and made divers unvocal sounds.
He was hardening his throat, and so
slept with a wet towel about it.
Down on the doorstep, Mrs. Mckee
and Mr.. Wagner sat and made love
with the aid of a lighted match and the
pencil-pad.
The car drew up at the little house.
Katie had heard it, and now she came
heavily along the hall.
"a woman left this for Mr.. K" she
said. IF you think it's begging let
ter, you'd better keep it until he's
bought his new suit tomorrow. Almost
any moment he's likely to bust out"
But it was not begging letter. X.
read it in the hall, with Sidney's
shining eyes on him. 1t began alb
ruptly:
I'm going to Africa with one of my
cousins. She Is a medical missionary.
Perhaps I can work things out there.
If 1 caused death, 1 did not mean to-.
You will think that no excuse, but it is
true. In the hospital when l changed the
bottles on Miss Pages medicine tray, I
did not care much what happened. But 1t
was different with you.
You dismissed me, you remember. had
been careless about sponge count. l
made up my mind to get back at you.
You remember the packets of gauze
Sponges we made and used in the operat-
ing room? There were twelve to each
package. When we counted them as we
got them out we counted by packages
On the night before 1 left, I went to the
operating room and added one sponge
every here and there. Out of every dozen
packets perhaps, I fixed one that had
thirteen. The next day 1 went away.
Then I was terrified. I was so fright
ened that went down sick over it. When
1 got better, heard you had lost case
and the cause was being whispered about
1 almost died of terror. Then 1 left the
city. 1 couldn't stand it. I was afraid
to read a newspaper.
I am not going to sign this letter. You
know who it is from. And am not going
to ask your forgiveness or anything of
that sort. I don't expect it. But one
thing hurts me more than anything else,
the other night You said you'd lost your
faith in yourself. This is to tell you that
you need not. And you said something
else-that anyone can come back" I
wonder!
K. stood in the hall Of the little house
with the letter in his hand. Just be-
yond on the doorstep was Sidney, wait
ing for him. His arms were still warm
from the touch of her. Beyond lay the
Street, and beyond that lay the world
and a mans work to do. Work, and
faith to do it, good wOman's hand in
the dark, a Providence that made
things right in the end.
"Are you coming, K.?"
Coming" he said. And, when he
was beside her, his long figure folded
to the short measure of the step, he
stopped humbly and kissed the hem Of
her soft white dress.
(THE END)