Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1917-10-30
By Carolyn
BeeCher
ONE WOMAN'S
STORY

not worry MI. DLdy ION ny lellAHS MIN
of my call I haven't been very well,
and he might think it was because of
that 1 came in, and worry"
II shah not mention it, Mrs Dray-
ton" the girl replied respectfully
enough, but l imagined l detected a
peculiar CLEAN in her eyes as she turn
ed again to her typewriter.
Two things were in my mind as /
walked slowly along.
Pearl Bailey, the handsome stenog-
rapher, was in love with Robert, and
resented Phyllis Lawson's intimacy
with him; and he had probably dis
charged Miss Perkins because she OBJ
jeCted to doing Mrs. Lawson's work.
But why was a man like Robert in
teresting to a girl like Pearl Bailey?
Was it because Of his unusual per-
sonaIity, his dignity, his seriousness?
He was unlike the men of her own
class. OF a sudden 1 knew that as
far as she was concerned my fears
had been groundless. She would D ot
so fear offending Robert, would not so
dislike doing Mrs. Lawson's work if he
had shown any .fondness for her
'Hextra! Hextra!" my thoughts were
interrupted by the shrill call of news
boy, "Hextra! all about the train
wreck"
Mechanically 1 motioned the boy.
With no special interest I bought a
paper.
Wreck on the c. and n. Local. Many
prominent citizens injured. Among them
District Attorney Drayton."
1 read no further. Ny knees trem-
bled so I could scarcely stand. Robert
injured-perhaps killed. Just as I turn
ed to retrace my steps 1 met Tim Null
hany.
amt. +,l- Ii, H--
Drayton You mustn't give way, he may
need you. Yes, he is alive" he an
swered my look, and taking my arm he
turned back with me.
I didn't try to answer, but hurried
along, dragging on Mr.. Mulhany's arm
to hurry him. l was almost running
in my anxiety to reach Robert.
The doctor met US at the door.
81 have Just left him, Mrs. Drayton.
1 will come back within an hour Other
poor fellows need me. He is uncon-
scious, and will be for some time, I'm
afraid
Cold with dread I went in to my
husband lying so still on his bed.
CHAPTERtCXIII.
THOR an hour 1 crouched beside The
= bed, my eyes glued upon Roberts
- face. Would he ever wake again?
A desperate appeal for help was in
my heart, but it found no expression
on my lips.
The doctor came in. He carefully
examined him.
at feel positive he will be all right,
although he may be unconscious some
time longer" he told me, as 1 touched
him on the arm to attract his atten-
ton. L couldn't speak. "It was a close
call, though"
Was the doctor right? Would the
splendid figure lying so inert and help
less again resolve itself into my strong,
virile Robert, self-sufficient, and mas
ter of his faculties? Or might the
doctor be mistaken? Ought 1 to have
some other doctor, too?
The door had scarcely closed behind
DR.. Morton before 1 was on my knees
beside the bed, unconscious that l was
praying, but in agony begging God to
spare my husband, to give him back to
me.
While l was still on my knees, my
gaze on Roberts face, his eyes opened
and he looked at me Understandings,
then smiled faintlys
I'm all right now, Margaret, but
] guess it was a close shave. Some
thing hit me on the mead, but I'll be
as good as new tomorrow" he whs-
pered, then closed his eyes wearily.
Not II you talk, Tim Mulhany TOLD
him. He had entered noislessly. He
took and pressed Roberts hand which
lay outside the covers. I'm going to
stay with Mrs. Drayton for a while.
But you must keep quiet. The doctor
almost tried to keep me out"
Robert turned restlessly on his pill
low, and | made no objection when
Mr. Mulhany took me gently by the
arm and led me to the door. In truth
l was beginning to feel faint from the
effect of the fight and shock, and I
knew l would better leave the sick room
until / overcame the feeling.
Tim helped me into the library,
brought me a drink of brandy, then re-
turned to Robert. He had been gone
but a few moments when the telephone
rang. / waited, but as no one came ]
answered it, A woman's voice asked
after Robert:
'Is he badly hurt?" her voice trem-
bled with anxiety, and caused every
nerve in my body to CULVER.
mo. not badly" 1 answered, with
difficulty controlling my voice, and
instinctively trying to disguise it.
Then may l speak to him, please?'
the voice, still tremulous, asked.
who is it?" l returned, MI Dray-
ton is in bed. unable to talk through
the phone"
Never mind, l wish to speak to Mr..