The midland journal., 1917-04-20
CHAPTER xlx-continued.

III
"You are not child any longer, Sid
ney. You have learned a great deal
In this last year. One of the things
you know is that almost every man
has small affairs, many of them some
times, before he finds the woman he
wants to marry. When he finds her.
the others are all off-there's nothing
stead of the sham"
"Palmer was very much in love with
Christine, and yet"
"Palmer Is cad"
81 don't want you to think I'm max
ing terms. I'm not. But If this thing
went on, and I found out afterward
that you-that there was anyone else,
1t would kill me-"
''Then you care, after all"
There was something boyish in his
triumph, in the very gesture with
which he held out his arms, like child
who has escaped whipping. He
stood up and, catching her hands, drew
her to her feet. "You love me, dear"
'I'm afraid I do, Max"
'Then I'm yours, and only yours, if
you want me-" he said, and took her in
his arms.
He was riotously happy, must hold
her off for the joy of drawing her to
him again, must pull off her gloves
and kiss her soft bare palms.
81 love you, love your he cried, and
bent down to bury his face in the
warm hollow of her neck.
Sidney glowed under his caress-was
rather startled at his passion, little
ashamed.
'Ten me you love me little bit.
Say it."
'T love you," said Sidney, and flushed
scarlet.
But even in his arms, with the warm
sunlight on his radiant face, with his
lips to her ear, whispering the divine
absurdities of passion, in the back of
her obstinate little head was the
thought that while she had given him
her first embrace, he had held other
women in his arms. 1t made her pas
Eive, prevented her complete surren-
der.
She broke the news of her engage
ment to K. herself, the evening of the
same day. The little house was quiet
when she got out of the car at the
door. Harriet was asleep on the couch
at the foot of her bed, and Christine's
rooms were empty. She went upstairs
to the room that had been her moth
er's, and took off her hat. She wanted
to be alone, to realize what had hap
pened to her. A year ago her half
promise to Joe had gratified her sense
of romance. She was loved, and she
lad thrilled to it.
But this was different. Marriage,
that had been but vision then, loomed
large, almost menacing. She had
learned the law of compensation: that
for every joy one pays in suffering.
Women who married went down into
the valley of death for their children.
One must love and be loved very ten
derly to pay for that. The scale must
balance.
Harriet was stirring, across the hall.
Sidney could hear her moving about
with flat, inelastic steps.
That-was the alternative. One mar
rled, happily or not as the case might
be, and took the risk. Or one stayed
single, like Harriet, growing little
hard, exchanging slimness for lean
uess and austerity Of figure, fiat-chest-
ed, thin-voiced. All at once it seemed
very terrible to her. She felt as if she
had been caught in an inexorable hand
that had closed about her.
Harriet found her little later, face
down on her mothers bed crying as If
her heart would break. She scOlded
her roundly.
'You've been overworking," she said.
you've been getting thinner. Your
measurements for that suit showed it.
I have never approved of this hospital
training, and after last January"
She could hardly credit her senses
when Sidney, still swollen with weep
ing. told her of her engagement.
'.But don't understand. II you care
= for him and he has asked you to marry
him, why on earth are you crying your
eyes out?"
81 do care. I don't know why cried.
1t just came over me, all at once, that
r. 1t was just foolishness. 1 am
very happy, Aunt Harriet"
Harriet thought she understood. The
girl needed her mother, and she, Har-
riet, was a hard, middie-aged woman
and a poor substitute. She patted Sid
uey's moist hand.
4 guess understand" she said. "Tll