Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1917-10-30

and that Mrs. Mulhany ran after and
caught me. When she asked me from
whom 1 was running I answered My
SELF
isn't that cowardly, Margaret? You
can't run away from your thoughts,
and others need you, dear" she replied
in her usual sweet way
woke with a start to hear Robert
saw Margaret" and then ask for wa
ter.
CHAPTER CIV.
" OU are better?" I said as L
held the glass to his lips, al
though he WINGED when l raised
his head.
IT am all right but for this internal
pain in my head, and even that is bet
ter. 1 think 1 will go to sleep again.
| There's no need to worry or to stay
with me. Put bell where 1 can reach
It, and I'll ring 1t If I want anything.
'T shall be on the couch" 1 told him,
land shall hear if you stir"
He made no objection and soon drop
ped off to sleep again. This time 1
neither dozed nor dreamed, but lay rig
i'll, thinking of Robert, of Mrs. Lawson,
and of what the future might hold for
me. And more than all 1 thought Of
Who was she? Yet in spite of my Curl
| osity I determined to say nothing of
the episode to him. / would not share
him with another to that extent. While
he was i'll he was mine.
AS DIR. Morton had predicted, Robert
was all right in a few days. And In
those days 1 felt that he belonged to
me more nearly than he had in years.
His dependence. so unusual, made me
very tender toward him; almost forget
full of all that had gone before.
1t seemed so strange to have Robert
at home. To know he was in the house
an entire day. He fumed and fretted,
| said 1t was nonsense, and all that, and
finally insisted on sending for Miss
Bailey. He dictated some letters and
| had his mail brought to the house IN
spite Of the doctors orders.
When the stenographer came in she
| laid pile of letters on the library ia
bic. 1 glanced toward them, and right
on top lay an envelope with the same
delicate handwriting 1 had once before
| noticed. Just as before, Robert picked
1T up, slipped IT into his pocket without
reading it. Then he attended to the
others. When he had finished and dis
missed Miss Bailey 1 remained in the
library with him until dinner was
served, hoping he would read the letter
he had slipped into his pocket. But he
showed no intention of doing so, else he
had forgotten it.
My face burned as an idea came to
me.
would go to his room after he went
to sleep for the night and if the letter
was still in his pocket l would satisfy
myself as to his correspondent You
may wonder that my pride did not pre-
Mt vSg;l1
so long as 1 could keep 1t from becom-
ing known I cared nothing any more for
myself so long as I could satisfy my
Jealous suspicious.
SO about midnight I stole from my
room into Roberts. 1t was a wonder
full moonlight night and as he slept
with the shades up and windows open
had no trouble finding his coat, and,
70 my delight, the letter.
l made my way quietly back to my
own room. For a moment l stood turn
ing the letter over and oven. The lon
ger 1 held it, the more positive 1 be-
came that it contained the proof of
Roberts faithlessness.
Does 1t all sound horribly cheap and
sordidf 1 know it must, but 1 am tell
ing a true story, my own story, full of
little joys and sorrows. But there waa
through it all a jealousy of my hus-
band which made the joys less, the sor-
rows more keenly outlined
1 have often wondered if other wom-
en- in my place would have done very
differently? If they would have had
more faith, more trust, fewer suspic-
ions, and so have been happier? At
times l had valiantly tried to believe,
hut the neglect, the loneliness had been
hard to bear-too hard. l imagine that
no matter how many friends a married
woman has. how many comforts, she is
lonely if her husband is not with her,
Il she is not sure of his love.
So now as 1 stood turning the letter
over and over a flush of shame swept
over my face, but it did not deter me
from taking the thin, closely written
sheet from the envelope and reading
There was neither date nor beginning.
I stared at the page for q moment then
read:
st have had everything life has to
give. BY every standard of the world
should have been happy. But listen
to the truth as l shall tell it to you:
The only real happiness I have ever
known has been in anticipation-an-
ticipation of the things expected
would bring happiness and did not.
My beauty that has been so admir-
ed. l have hated it; but now I shall
take care of it. since it means so much
to you.
Love there has never been until
met you-what has been falsely call
ed love and given me has been chiefly
a hindrance and an interruption in my
career. Love a best is, think, ter
rible thing, but, as / knew it, a horror.
1T was a torment and an eXaction
which took all, but gave nothing. That
is why l long for considerate, under
standing comrade rather than for 4
lover, ora husband
That was all. There was no sigma
ture, nothing to show from whom it
came But as 1 read it over and over
each word was burned upon my minds