The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1918-05-02
A Misunder-
standing
o0
Copyrtght, 1915. by the Mcclure Nevspa-
per syndicats.)
b WILLIAM o

(copyright. 1913. by the Mcclure NsWsps.
. psr syndicate.)
"But you are not listening"
Helen Fairfax turned her eyes back
to her lover with a murmured "For-
give me-" They were earnest eyes,
shining with q tremulous love-light,
and she was a clever girl, with keen
mind and keener intuition, and he had
grown into the habit Of talking to her
freely of his life, his profession. in a
way that surprised himself.
But tonight her attention wandered.
Tonight Of all nights! Tomorrow he
was to sum up his great case. Surely
a woman should share the self-denial
Of a mans destiny. Was Helen, after
all, like other women-given to moods,
absorbed in the subjective-when the
veil was lifted? They had been en-
gagged six months; each day had been
a fuller revelation of her nature. Was
this the nearer view7 All, no-banish
the thought. Helen was Helen-there
was no more to be said.
He took up the lines Of the argu-
ment Of his case and stated them to
her, clearly, concisely, as though she
were a man. This time her eyes did
cot wander from his face; they deep
ened, their pupils growing larger as
she gazed. How splendid he looked!
How alert; how alivel
How could she keep at this wide dis
lance. How incidental and how futile
sounded all that rapid flow Of words!
When would he have done, that she
might throw herself upon his breast?
"Don't you think sol" he asked her.
suddenly.
ooh. Harold, I did not hear what
you were saying"
"Not hear what I was saying7
Haven't you been following? I never
needed your cooperation more. your in
tellectual sympathy more. than I do
tonight. You know how hard I have
been working on this case; you know
what a notable case it Is. You know
also, that the eyes of the legal world
are upon me. MY summing up tomor-
row will be a crisis in the beginning
Of my career. Could you not follow
me-help me by your sympathy-your
i~nterest?"
He waited to see the flash Of pro-
test in her eyes, for some little lance
that she would thrust to cross his own,
but instead she nestled her head into
the curve Of his shoulder and whisp-
cred: "Forgive me, I am moody to-
night; very moody and absent-mind-
3D."
1--WE have no right to be moody nor
absent-minded, dear" he answered
seriously. "where another's interests
are involved. It is a sign of weakness.
And there is something besides love.
A strong woman should keep wen love
at bay when a man has work to do
not lure him nor tempt him with it.
I do not like to say it, sweetheart, but
Il love you-and the wounds of a
friend are faithful. I am disappoint-
ed at your failure to sympathize with
my work tonight"
Two big tears welled in her eyes, but
she said no word. Had Harold Ford
been a hero, a knight Of chivalry, he
would not have stopped In his quest
until he had found the source of those
two tears; he was, however, only a
very busy man Of today. Not that the
two are altogether incompatible, but
that the combination is rare, and Har-
old did not happen to be both in the
fullest sense; Furthermore. he was
deeply absorbed In an immediate prac-
teal affair. It was striking II, and
time for him to leave her. Though he
said no more, and his goodnight salu-
tation lacked nothing outwardly, there
was a mental reservation which, to
the psychic Of Helen, robbed 1t
of its fullest bliss.
"Six o'clock tomorrow, dear" he re-
peated as he went out the door. "Six
o'clock tomorrow" she answered..
Did her voice CULVER. or was it fan
cy? He was conscious of saying to
himself as he passed down the steps:
Are all women alike. I wonder-af-
ter all-Gtears and moods?"
The following afternoon, in the gath
ering dusk, he mounted the steps
again. His attitude had changed. The
stress and irritation of an absorbing
effort had given place to a bouyant re-
action. He had won his case, and won
1t in so brilliant a way that the tri-
umph was the smallest part of his self
congratulation? Even the Judge had
said words to make a young lawyers
heart take courage. But what were
the words, what was the triumph, what
was anything. until he had shared it
with Helen? He could see her in the
gathering dusk, as he waited. her eyes
glistening delight! He could hear her
vibrant "Harold!" Poor child, had he
been harsh last night? All. no, only
impatient for a moment-and frank
to make her the utmost that she was
capable of being. If he had uninten-
tionally hurt her, he knew q potent
balm to heal with, to make her rejoice.
Why was the servant so ~eternally slow