Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1917-09-11
lew. a beautifuI-really q wonderful

Jew, Deautlful-really wonderful
person to look at, but little unac-
countable, especially with the gorgeous
clothes she wore, in the circle of wom-
en- who did things" of which Rose
had become part. Rose took her time
about deciding that she liked her, but
ended by preferring her to all the rest.
But the fact that they had become
partners served, somehow, to divert
relation between them which might
otherwise have developed into first
class friendship. Not that they quar-
relied, or even disappointed each other
in the close contacts of the days work.
But at the end of the days work they
tended to fly apart rather than TO stick
together. More and more Rose turned
to Galbraith for friendship that real
ly understood; gripped deep.
There were long stretches of days.
of course, when they saw nothing of
each other, and Rose, as long as she
had plenty to do, was never conscious
Of missing him. But the prospect of
an empty Sunday morning, for in
stance, was always enormously bright
ened If he called up to say that it was
empty for him, too, and shouldn't they
go for walk or a ferry-ride some
wherei
All told, she learned more about
men, as such, from him than ever she
had learned, consciously at least, from
Rodney. She'd never been able to re-
gard her husband as specimen. He
was Rodney, sui generis, and 1t had
never occurred to her either to general
ize from him to other men or to ex-
plain anything about him on the mere
ground of his masculinity. She began
doing that now little, and the exer-
else opened her eyes.
In good many ways Galbraith and
her husband were a good deal alike.
Both were rough, direct, a little re-
morseless, and there was in both of
them, right alongside the best and
finest and clearest things they had, an
unaccountable vein of childishness.
She'd never been willing to call it by
that name in Rodney. But when she
saw it in Galbraith too, she wondered
Was that just the man of it? Did a
man, as long as he lived, need some
body in the role of-mother? The
thought all but Suffocated her.
One Saturday morning, toward the
end Of May, Calbraith called up and
wanted to know if she wouldn't come
over to his Long Island farm the fol-
lowing morning and spend the day.
She had visited the place two or three
times, and had always enjoyed 1t i'm
mensely there. 1t wasn't much Of a
farm, but there was a delightful old
Revolutionary farmhouse on it, with
ceilings seven feet high, and easement
windows, and the floors of all the rooms
on different levels; and Galbraith,
there, was always quite at his best. His
sister and her husband, whom he had
brought over from England when he
bought the place, ran it for him. Rose
accepted eagerly.
Galbraith met her with a dogcart
and a fat pony, and when they had
logged their way to their destination,
they spent what was left of the morn
ing looking over the farm. Then there
was midday farm dinner which Rose
astonished herself by dealing with as
it deserved, and by feeling sleepy at
the conclusion of.
Coming into the veranda about four
o'clock, and finding her, Galbraith sug-
gested that they go for walk. Two
hours later, having swung her legs over
stone wall which had a comfortably
inviting fiat top, she remained sitting
there and let her gaze rest, unfocused,
on the pleasant farm land below them.
After glance at her he leaned back
against the wall at her side and be-
gan filling his pipe. She dropped her
hand on his nearer shoulder. After
all these months of friendship it was
the first approach to a caress that had
passed between them. you're a good
friend" she said; and then the hand
that had rested on him so lightly sud-
denly gripped hard. "And I guess 1
need one"
He went on filling his pipe. ANY
thing special you need one for?" he
asked.
She gave ragged little laugh. 81
guess not. Just somebody strong and
steady to hold on to like this"
"Well," he said, very deliberately,
''you want to realize this: You say
I'm a friend, and am, but if there is
anything in this friendship which can
be of use to you, you're entitled to
everything there is in it. Because you
made It,"
Zone person can't make friend
Ship" she said. "But you are content
with it, aren't you? Like thls?"
He smoked in silence for a minute ::
then: 'Why, content is hardly the
word for it. When I think what 1t was
I wanted and what you've given me
misunderstanding 1 wouldn't trade
for all the love in the world"
"Pd like to believe it was a better
thing" she said, "but I'm afraid I
can't"
Neither could 1 when I was-how
old are neutrality-suspicious.. Perhaps
when you're fifty-one you can"
81 suppose So" she said absentIy.
perhaps If 1t were question Of
choosing between a love that hadn't
any friendship in it and a friendship
But it can't be like that! Can
it? Can't one have both? Can't man
love a woman and be her friend and
partner all at the same timer
81 can't answer for every man." he
said refectively. But I've notion
that nine out of a dozen, if you
could get down to the actual bedrock
facts about them, would own up that IL
they were in love with a woman
really, you know-they wouldn't want
her for a partner, and wouldn't be
able to see her as a friend. That's lust
a guess, of course. But there's one
thing l know, and that is that 1
couldn't"