Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1917-02-27
n the night that l told Tom Fla
hartv | did not love any one

T n the night that l told Tom Fla
harty l did not love any one
enough to marry him, he had LETT
me on my front doorstep with simple
firm handclasp. He had been unable TO
speak. There was no doubt about l.
Tom cared for me sincerely and deeply
NV telling him of the state \of my at
fections was a deep blow to him. he
was far too manly to protest at the time
But his love for me was too deep for him
wholly to be able to conceal the wound
l had given him. The quietness and dig
nifty of his attitude made me realize the
more his true fineness in spite OF MS
superficial crudities.
That night l lay upon my bed long
while thinking. Finally, L cried. Almost
/ wished that l could feel for Tom all he
wanted me to feel. / was wise enough
now TO realize that the mannerisms OF
someone we love do not matter. These
are so easily changed. 1t is the heart
that beats beside ours through life
which really counts.
After this momentous conversation
with Tom felt, too, that 1t was kinder
for me not to go to his home so often
not for u few months anyway. Almost
without realizing it L had dritted into
a habit of dining with the Flahartys
three or four times week. To tell Tom
that / did not, and could not, love him
and then continue to see him so often
seemed unfair Accordingly, / gave up
a companionship which, as a matter OF
fact was the only real interest in my
life at that time l must say the Fla
hartys were most generous about the
whole affair. Helen, whose desk was
beside mine in the insurance company,
apparently sensed the situation, al
though never once did she reproach me.
On the other hand, her understanding
and fine feeling precluded her urging me
to go home with her to dinner when
told her, somewhat vaguely, that L did
not think l could do So"
AS a matter of fact, my evenings
without the Flahartys became very lone
ly. Once or twice l even went to NOV
ing picture show by myself, so heavy
did time hang upon my hands. l kept
pegging away at my work, of course, and
for several weeks 1 asked for and recetv-
ed work that l might take home with me
and do evenings. 1t passed the time
for me after the dinner hour. Also my
clothes were now beginning to be shabby,
so that / would soon need the extra sum
1 could thus earn. y
Gradually, in spite of myself, l be-
gan to be very depressed. There was
not much incentive even to make myself
attractive with the few feminine artl-
fees at my command. l arose, went
straight to work in the morning, ate din
ner by myself. and returned to my room
to work at night. l was growing white
and considerably thinner.
1t was on a night when 1 was actually
looking my worst the event occurred
which was to turn the tide of my life.
Ny eyes were heavy and circled from
too close application to my labors. l
felt crumpled and dishevelled after
long day at the office. After dinner in
noisy, cheap restaurant 1 was making
my way home when, as l dragged my
self SLOWLY along the street, l raised
NV eyes and encountered those of--How-
ard Boyd!
My lips parted. 1 realized at once
that he knew me. Howard-whom 1 al
ways had liked better than any of the
men 1 ever had known. That he whom
l had hurt must cruelty and from whom
1 had parted in anger would care to
speak to me 1 could not believe. He
could see from the expression on my
face that l recognized him, but that l
did not intend to bow. Some foolish
bride kept me from this first advance.
But apparently 1 never had realized en-
tirely the true fneness of this boy. He
stared at me only a moment. Then he
was bside me, his hand outstretched.
why, Dr. he said, gently, how tired
you look!"