Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1917-12-14
there was need for very little tablet

Ct'
tiol. of expression her meaning, and
this constant studying of her face
came to be as much a pleasure to him
as anything else that made up his
busy days.
Then, as spring came on, the con-
gresham became more than ordinarily
p~ensive. Even at the capitol it was
commented on that Pragg had some
cause to worry, and Mardy's most in
quiring and sympathetic look of IN
treaty did not draw his secret from
his lips.
One day when Mardy arrived in the
morning, she found the congressman
already at his desk-something entire
~ unprecedented-and Mardy seemed
to know when she first caught his
glance, that at last the time had come
for her to know his secret care.
81 have something to tell you" he
began, abruptly, not looking at her
though he usually studied her face
with such keen interest. 81 have Sc,
cured the services of one of the great
est of throat specialists-Doctor Spig-
genheim-perhaps you have heard of
him. He is coming down to Washing
ton as a special concession. He'll be
here this morning. I want him to ex-
anime your vocal cords, and see If
something cannot be done for them.
He says tits a marvellous case-that
your dumbness hasn't affected your
hearing or any of your other Senses"
Had the congressman been watch
ing Mardy's face then he might have
seer that she started and then turned
~perceptibly paler. She made no writ
ten reply Or acknowledgment of her
gratitude to her would-be ~benefacter,
and they were both uncommunicative
for the rest of the morning.
At Mardy's written request she saw
the great specialist alone, and then
alone, and then the congressman, hav-
ing handed the specialist his thousand
dollar fee, saw Mardy Alone.
The congressman looked pensive
and grave. Very tenderly and, trying
to conceal his w disappointment, he
told Mardy of the specialists verdict
that, strangely enough, Mardy's
speechlessness was incurable. This
time the congressman studied Mardy's
face, but it showed nothing save a
studied immobility.
They both tried to go back to the
work of the day, but unsuccessfully,
and then the congressman broke the
silence. 'Tl have to tell you what Is
worrying me-and torturing me-" he
said. "Ill tell you, and then you can
decide what we ought to do. Mardy,
I want to marry you. I had
thought of marrying before, and l
don't want to make you my wife I'M
less it is going to make you happier.
I am tortured with the doubt wheth-
er your infirmity wouldn't be such a
handicap In your life as my wife, with
all the social duties that 1t would be
bound to bring you, that we would
both be unhappy because of it. I had
hoped Spiggenheim would be able to
hold out hope, but he tells me there
is none. Mardy, what shall I do?"
There was a short pause, and then,
In a soft, low voice, Mardy answered
his question. "Forgive me-" Then
she went on talking rapidly and fluent
ly, and the congressman hung upon
each word as If hearing a woman talk
had always been the joy of his life.
81 came to Washington, hoping to get
a position In one of the departments,
but others more influential crowded
me out. Then I SAY your advertise
ment. My funds were exhausted, and
l couldn't go home and tell the family
/ had lost out. ! had promised to send
home part of my salary-and-well, l
pretended I was dumb, and everyone
in Washington thinks I am. I have
never spoken to anyone, though l do
talk to myself in my room at night,
SOS not to forget how. Then when
you spoke of Sp~iggenheim, I thought
you suspected me, and would despise
me for the deception and would dis
miss me If you thought 1 really could
talk. So-well, / told Spiggenheim the
truth and promised him a hundred dol
lars-all my savings-if he would tell
you tnc CdSC was hoPCiCoos
The congressman sat back in his
chair and let out a hearty laugh that
showed his melancholy had been for
ever dispelled, and for the first time
he heard the contagious tones OF
Mardy's laugh, which she had been
suppressing for months.
"One- thousand, one hundred dol
lars" he reflected "well 1t was worth
that ten times overland a hundred
times over, If I had it. l e thought
that it would take a throat specialist
to cure me of a lifelong melancholy
for, Mardy, I have been COM
pletely happy In my life until this
minute"
Disease Not Inherited.
An entirely wrong doctrine of hered-