The Celina Democrat. (Celina, O. [Ohio]) 1895-1921, 1917-06-01

what he suspected. So week age
today, got her to go with me to O
specialist" Her voice got little
harder and cooler. 'Mother'll never be
well, Rose. Her heart is getting fab
by-degenerating, he called it. He
says we can't do anything except tC
retard the progress of the disease. II
may go fast, or 1t may go slowly. That
attack she had was just a symptom
he said. She'll have others. And by
and by, Of course, a fatal one."
Still she didn't look around from
the window. She knew Rose was cry.
ing. She had heard the gasp and
choke that followed her first announce.
ment of the news and since then, ir-
regularly, muffled sound of sobbing
She wanted to go over and comfort
the young, stricken thing there on the
bed, but she couldn't. She could feel
nothing but dull, irresistible anger
that Rose should have the easy relief
of tears, which had been denied her.
Because Portia couldn't cry.
"He said," she went on, "that in this
climate, living as she has been doing,
she'd hardly last six months, but that
In bland climate like southern Cali
fOrnia, if she's carefully watched all
the time to prevent excitement or over
exertion, she might live a good many
years.
$50 that's what we're going to do.
I've written the Fletchers to look out
place for us, and I've sold out my
business-tOOk an offer that l refused
a month ago. AS soon as we hear from
the Fletchers, We'll begin to pack.
Within week, hope"
Rose said a queer thing then. She
cried out increduously: "And you and
mother are going away to California
to live And leave me here all alone p
"All alone with the whole of your
own life," thought Portia, but didn't
say it.
Il can't realize it at ALL" Rose went
on after little silence. ut doesn't
| Seem-pOssible. Do you believe the
specialist is right? Can't we go to
someone else and make sure?"
"What's the useT said POrtia. "Be-
sides, If l drag mother around to any
more of them, she'll know"
Rose looked up sharply. Doesn't
she know"
mo" said Portla in that hard, even
voice of hers. II lied to her, of course.
You know mother well enough to know
what she'd do if she knew the truth
about it. Don't you know how it's
always pleased her when old people
could die-'in harness. as she says"
The ordeal, or the worst of it, was
over. Rose was dropping fOrlornly
forward, one arm clasped around her
knees, and she was trying to dry her
tears on the sleeve of her nightgown.
The childlike pathos of the attitude
caught Portia like the surge of wave.
She crossed the room and sat down on
the edge of the bed. She'd have come
still closer and taken the girl in her
arms, but for the fear of starting her
crying again.
EYES," Rose said. "That's mother.
And l guess she's right about it. 1t
must be horrible to be half-alive-to
know you're no use and never will be.
And you've gone through this all alone
without ever giving Rodney and me
chance to help. don't see why you
did that, POrtia."
''Oh, saw it was my job" Portia
said, in that cool, dry tone of hers.
1T had to be done, and there was no
one else to do it. So what was the
use of making a fuss?"
"Well, there's one thing" Rose said.
II believe it'll do you as much good as
mother. Getting rest. And a
nice little bungalow to live in-just
you and mother. II sort of
wish l was going, too"
Portia laughed-a ragged, unnatural
sounding laugh that brought look of
puzzled inquiry from Rose.
"Why, nothing" Portia explained. |
"It was just the notion of your leav-
ing Rodney and all you've got here
all the wonderful things you have to
do-fOr what we'll have out there.
The idea of your envying me is
worth a small laugh, don't
you think?"
Roses head dropped lower. She
buried her face in her hands. II do
envy you," she said. There was a
dull, muffled passion in her voice. "Why
shouldn't envy you? You're so cold
and certain all the time. You make
up your mind what you'll do and you
10 it. I try to do things and just
make myself ridiculous"
you've got husband" said Portia
n a thin, brittle voice. "That might
count for something, should think"
"Yes, and what good am l to him?"
Rose demanded. "He can't talk to
ne-nOt about his work or anything
ike that. And can't help him any
way. I'm something nice for him to
make love to, when he feels like do
ng 1t, and I'm a nuisance when
make scenes and get tragic. And
hats all. That's-marriage, guess.
you're the lucky one, POrtia."
The silence had lasted good while
'efOre Rose noticed that Portia had