The Benson signal., 1918-01-26
CHAPTER XlV-Continued.

"YOu won't even give me the poor
satisfaction Of knowing what you're
doing" he said.
"rd love to-" she said, Ito be able to
write to you, hear from you every day.
But 1 don't believe you want to know.
l think it would be too hard for you.
Because you'd have to promise not to
try to get me back-not to come and
rescue me if got into trouble and
things went badly and I didn't know
where to turn. Could you promise
that, Roddy?"
He gave groan and buried his face
in his hands. Then:
"No," he said furiously. "Of course
/ couldn't. See you suffering and
stand by with my hands in nay pockets
and watch" He sprang up and seized
her by the arms in a grip that actually
left bruises, and fairly shook her in the
agony of his entreaty. 'Tell me it's a
nightmare, Rose" he said. "Tell me it
isn't true. Wake me up out of it,
But under the indomitable resolution
of her blue eyes he turned away. This
was the last appeal of that sort that
he made.
''I'll promise" she said presently, "to
be sensible-not to take any risks /
don't have to take. ,Ill regard my life
and my health and. all, as something
I'm keeping in trust for you. I'll take
plenty of warm, sensible clothes when
/ go; lots of shoes and stockings
things like that; and, If you'll let me
Til borrow a hundred dollars to start
myself off with. 1t isn't a tragedy,
Roddy-not that part Of it. You
wouldn't be afraid for anyone else as
big and strong and healthy as l."
Gradually, out of welter of scenes
like that, the thing got itself recog-
nized as something that was to happen.
But the parting came at last in little
different way from any they had fore
seen.
Rodney came home from his office
early one afternoon, with telegram
that summoned him to New York to a
conference Of counsel in big public
utility case he had been working on
for months. He must leave, if he were
going at all, at five o'clock. He ran
sacked the house, vainly at first, for
Rose, and found her at last in the
trunk rOOm-duSty, diSheveled, SObbing
quietly over something she hugged in
her arms. But she dried her eyes and
came over TO him and asked him what
1t was that had brought him home so
early.
He showed her the telegram. "Ill
have to leave in an hour" he said,
'if I'm to CO."
She paled at that, and sat down
rather giddily on the trunk. 'You
must co." she said, "of course, And
Roddy, 1 guess that1l be the easiest
way. I'll get my telegram tonight
pretend to get it-from Portia. And
you can give me the hundred dollars,
and then, when you come back, I'll be
gone"
The thing she had been holding in
her hands slipped to the floor. He
stopped and picked 1t up-stared at it
with a sort of half-wakened recogni-
tiOn.
II f-found it," she explained, "among
some old things Portia sent over when
she moved. Do you know what it is?
It's one of the notebooks that got wet
that first night when we were put off
the street car. And-Roddy, look"
She opened it to an almost blank
page, and with a weak little laugh
pointed to the thing that was written
there: March Is, 1927"
'Your birthday, you see, and the day
me met each other"
And then, down below, the only note
she had made during the whole of that
lecture, he read: "Never marry a man
with a passion for principles"
'That's the trouble with us, you see,"
she said. eff you were just an ordi-
nary man without any big passions or
lnything, it wouldn't matter much if
your life got spoiled. But with us,
you see, we've got to try for the big
gest thing there is. Oh, Roddy, Roddy
darling! Hold me tight for just a
minute, and then III come and help
you pack"