New Britain herald., 1917-03-03

eyes brim with sudden tea4:s.. The first of 1t had been cheery, with en- tertaining little accounts Of the few poor bits of humor which the soldiers in the trenches extracted from their terrible every day round. Along to- ward the end . sudden x impulse seemed to have swept thes; writer's pen into . more .sombre, channel.
 1T have been thinking much, dear old frishd. he wrote. ''of the futility 'of human desires Life in the trenches is rathor conducive to that form of meditation. as you may imagine. You know. none better. how loved Margaret. how wanted to make her my wife--I often wonder whether if I had not delayed 70 long. fearing my fats too much. might not have won her. But thoughts like that are worse than useless.
 'TnsooAd, there has come to me clearer understanding of Margaret, - better insight into the golden heart of her. If she had never met the other man. or some one like him. I belisvs I could lnave made her happy. kept hef contented. But |: realize fully that having met him there could never be any other man for her but him. Her love for him is like . flame, trAnsecfming her. I could never have 0a1l0d forth such passion from her. I seA olearly now how foolish 1t was h me to have hoped 1t. There was nothing in the humdrum, common place brotherly affection which she thought gave her to arouse the rom- ance which know slumbers under thak calm, coM sxteEl0r of heEs. : -s EometisAes I 4uesy. too,i whether my love for Margaret had that fiame- like quality which characterizes her love for her husband. Margaret has always been so much a part of my life that my love for her began could not tell when. and grew and strengthened with the years. There never has been any other woman but ever come out of this living hell. which doubt. I do not believe there ever will be another.
 "And yet
 ''I have just been summoned for duty. Good by. dear friend, until the next time. Lovingly yours, Jack Bickett."
 sAnd Yet-'
 I laid the letter aside with . queer little startled feeling at my heart.
 Those two little words. land yet" at the end Of Jacks letter gave me much food for thought. Was it pos sible that before his death Jack had realized that hip love for me was not tho consuming passion he had thought 1t, but partook more of. the ffaternal affection that I had had for him.
 hoped for Jacks sake that this ,waS Q.
 ssA {
 ran through the rest of the letters rapidly. One. the third from the last, arrested my attention sharply.
 ''such a pleasant thing happened to me today" Jack wrote. "one of the unexpected gleams of sunlight that arc 50 much brighter because of the general gloom against which they are reflected.
 II was given weeks furlough last Saturday and went up to Paris with my friend, Paul Caillard. He had 8 friend in 8 hospital on the way there headed by Dr. Braithwait, the. cele-, brated surgeon of Detroit"
 caught my breath. As we'll as if had already read the words. I knew what was coming.
 At an unexpected turn In the cor ridor I almost knocked over little nurse who was hurrying toward the office. She looked up at me startled. out of the prettiest brown eyes ever saw, and then stopped. staring at me as if had been a ghost. I stared back, frankly, for her face was