New Britain herald., 1918-12-04

peC1ally tn1S one, WhlCn n1lSnI W6l' b0 the last time we should ever see eacn other. l have always had a rather vague feeling that the mental atmoS- phere surrounding the young phySl- elan is charged with something akin to dynamite, and that l never could be quite certain when it might eN- plode.
 What Dr. Petit Planned. His coming on this particular day 1 irritated me, also. for it was Satur- day. and l was hurrying through my duties in anticipation of ono of Dicky's week k-ends-Saturday noon 1 until Sunday evening-Which he was , allowed because the camp was so near 1 home Of course, we were in daily | expectation that the squadron to l which he belonged would be ordered l abroad, and these hours at home were l precious boons, longed for, planned 1 for, from one week to another. l al- ways had all the creaking household machinery out of sight when Dicky came home, and gave every bit of my ! time to him and to his comfort. But knew there was no avoiding ' this intervew. Dr. Petit had prac- tically saved my fathers life, and had l brought Dicky back to health when all | the odds were against him. l owed | him 8 debt of gratitude, to say noth- | ing of the bill which he had never pre- sented, and of which I knew l must speak, although infinitely dreaded to do so.
 | Good morning, Mrs. Graham" pr. | Petit rose as I entered the room, and stood almost as stiffly as if he'd been
 "at attention.''
 l Good morning." crossed the room and held out my hand in greet 1 ing. His hand, which clasped mine in return, was icy in it's chilliness. 1 !"You're going this afternoon, I un- l derstand," I said perfunctorily after he'd refused a chair.
 I'm going now," he returned al-
 most solemnly. T have already said 1 goodbye to your father-you know he | doesn't wish to come over here until
 the end of the next week when his ! Jap's month will be up, also the lease
 of the house-and I watched for your
 mother-in-law and the baby so that I
 would have no goodbye after yours.
 I talked with MT. Graham last Satur-
 day, told him that I would probably
 not see him again, and I want to get
 away now before he comes I am in
 no mood today to talk pIatitudes to
 your husband or anybody else"
 Ahead of Schedule.
 His face had darkened with a feel
 ing which I couldn't read. There was
 something elemental, primitive, about
 the man as if he'd cast off all the fet-
 tering, softening trides that hedge a
 Y
 no answer only locked my hands 3
 trif1e more tightly. I had no idea what he would say next
 Look herei" he said roughly a mo- ment later. 'I want you to answer
 me a question truthfully. Is one of your reasons for going to work 8 . Quixotic idea that-pardon me fo1 ! even speaking of it, but I must-that you're indebted pecuniarily to me sor l professional services?''
 That isn't my reason for going tc york; I answered steadily. ''I meant to go anyway, but our debt to you is one of the things I hope to discharge as soon as possible
 He uttered 8 sound which Inigh1 have been curse or a groan ther walked impetuously over to me, anC put his hand on my shoulder with { grip that hurt.
 T was afraid of this'' he said 'Now listen to me. Don't you know
 can't you see, that it would torture mt
 beyond endurance to know that VOL
 were toi1ing to get money to pay m, T for what was only d pleasure and z I duty? Your father was in the serv I ice, your husband an aviator. botI serving their country. And you would take away from me the privilege O
 giving what little skill I possess il
 their service! Won't you promise m.
 never to speak or think of it a again 9
 His face was bent toward mine, i'm pa,ssioned, pleading. What would hay
 been my answer in other circun
 stances I don't know. But above tn
 sound of his last words had pane
 trated the whir of a motor outside
 and through the window I saw Dick
 leap from @ touring car which ha, evidently given him lift fron camp, bringing him home ahead Q
 his schedule.