Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1917-11-02
ONE WOMAN'S
STORY

I "A
said, so whoever had writ
ten the words loved Robert. Would
she dare write him so did he not re-
turn it? Then she had also said that
her beauty meant much to him. and
for his sake she would care for it.
j, / felt the world receding under my
feet. 1t is one thing TO be suspicious,
jealous, and quite another thing to have
your suspicious proven, your jealousy
intensified by what appears to be alb
solutely certainty.
My mind went in leaps and bounds.
wondered if Robert had gone so far
as to want to marry her, to divorce me.
l could scarcely believe, even with the
letter before me, that he would go so
FAR. He loved the children dearly, that
/ knew; but 1 also knew that when
II came to a mans great, passionate
love for a woman, sometimes even they
cannot hold him.
Then another thought assailed me
a hideous one.
Had Robert known of Harper Garlic
toms infatuation for me and closed
his eyes in hope that IL would lead to
something that he might divorce met
I hated myself for my foolishness, yet
my lips curled as 1 thought with what
horror 1 had received the declaration
OF his love.
The gray light of morning crept into
the windows and still 1 sat there try
ing to adjust myself to the truth
as I thought I now saw IL. 1 no longer
could let doubt creep in and comfort
me; now I must face the certainty that
Robert loved. and was loved-if not by
Phyllis Lawson. then by some other
woman OF whom 1 knew nothing. And
what mattered il who il was?
Suddenly I realized that morning had
come. The servants soon would be
getting up. l crept noiselessly back
TO Roberts room and replaced the let
ter in his pocket. 1 almost wished he
would wake and ask what 1 was do
ing. Then 1 would demand to know
who this woman was who wrote that
until she had met him she had never
loved. But he slept peacefully on. and
as l glanced at his strong. handsome
face. 1 felt the tears. ooze from my
eyes.
L had almost lost him by the acciI
dent l had really lost him as surely
as II he had died. And it was with
the feeling that he was dead, dead to
me. that I looked at him. He stirred,
and 1 hastily left the room. He mustn't
wake and find me weeping over him.
L threw myself onto my bed and
dropped off into a dreamless sleep.
The sleep of utter exhaustion. 1 did
not waken until Martha called me to
breakfast. l was so utterly worn out
with my emotions my sleep had done me
but little good. and l was pale and
tired looking when 1 carried in Roberts
breakfast. He was going to the office
for a little while, later, but the night
before had made him promise to take
his breakfast in bed. He still looked
/ far from well. and L was anxious.
Robert remarked upon my paleAess
and feared he had caused ii by the
care / had given him. / forced myself
/ to answer naturally, and while he ate
| his breakfast 1 read little snatches from
the morning paper, anything l thought
might interest him. couldn't talk
| connectedly. my thoughts were too In
tent on the happening of the night, and
! 1 was afraid he would notice my abb
straction.
Il will not give him up!'
over and over / said it as with dry
| eyes and clenched hands 1 paced back
and forth after he had gone. ! had
been tempted just before he left to
/ fling my knowledge at him, to endure
| his scorn. But had restrained myself.
| If 1 let him know that l knew what
| was in that letter l could not live
with him under the same conditions
we now live. 1t would be impossible
/ for both of us. and l was not ready to
/ take an inferior place in his home. So
/ 1 would keep my knowledge TO my
| self. but watch him closely. At the
| same time l would make my scarcely
| formulated plans for caring for myself
more nearly operative. l must be pre-
pared.
| Like all women l Immediately plan
\ ned to meet the worst that could hap
pen. instead of looking for the best.
/ Ii is a sort of hysteria i'm which women
wounded in their low ~eand pride take
/ comfort.
'Oh. don't pity her she takes her
! happiness in being miserable" Myrtle
\ said once when | was expressing sor-
row for a woman who always appear
\ ed unhappy. So now | took sort of
/ fierce joy in dwelling on my misery, and
\ found a certain amount of comfort In
/ thinking of my unhappiness.
Like all women who give way to
self pity I could see no compensations.
l Instead OF taking comfort with my
/ children. my home, my friends. l was
/ constantly wondering how long II would
/ he before I should have to let Robert
l go; how much longer l could keep my
! knowledge of his unfaithfulness-as l
| called il in my thoughts-from him.
l Yet I knew that most of my acquain-
/ tances envied me. / had two beauti-
/ full children. a lovely home, an accom-
! pIished. intelligent husband, and an al
/ iowapce sufficient for all reasonable de-
/ sires.
/ But I Ionged so passionateiy tor my
/ husbands love. the assurance that he
| was faithful that all these things SEEM
ed as nothing in comparison.