The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1919-06-16

I before 1 left. 1t may be months be-
fore am back in New York Father
shall have to return, but 1 will say
until Spring, and then we may go to
| Europe, so you see 1t is final.
Write me. Write me soon. Perhaps
If you go abroad again next summer We
may meet then. Now that you are not
going to be my sister-in-Iaw. want you
sim to be my friend.
THE porter has just come through with
| the last call for dinner and father IS
waiting for me to go in with him.
LOUISE"
When Helen laid down the letter her
first feeling was one OF sick disappoint-
ment that all her plans for bringing
them together had so dismally failed
Then she felt glow of pride in Louise's
strength and answering pride. She had
not weakly waited in the futile hopes Of
some future reconciliation. She had the
courage to go away, to put half the con-
tinent between herself and Bob, to prove
to him that this time it was final.
Helen had never seen Bob lose contr IL
of his temper, yet, he was Warrens
brother, with much of Warren's dispo-
sition., and she could picture something
OF his violent rage. What a scene it must
have been-that final clash between those
two. With all her love of the dramatic,
the emotional, Helen's mind fingered
around the possibilities of that scene.
Then she turned back to the letter.
What should she write Louise? 1t was
!, always hard for her to write letters and
to answer this would be particularly
hard.
She felt she ought to answer it at
once. The appealing write me-write
me soon" she could not ignore. With a
shrinking dread of the task she forced
herself to the desk. AS much she
cared for Louise and longed to talk .
J.
Dear LOUISE cannot tell you how
surprised 1 was to get your letter. 1 did
not dream that you were on your way
to Florida
Mono. that was too conventional, too
strained and stilted.
Louise, dear, my heart goes out to
you in aching sympathy. oh. 1 know
know something of what you have suf-
fered."
This, too. she tore up in disguest-it
was too effusive. too gushing.
Dear Louise: 1 hardly know how to
write you. You must know how dis
tressed was by your letter. Yet, if you
find that your happiness lies away from
Bob am glad that you had the
courage
An insistent ring of the doorben with
poised pen Helen glanced expectantly
Nora to answer. She hoped fervently that
it was not a CALL for she was in no
mood for callers that afternoon.
Then she heard a strange heavy step
I'm the hall, step like Warren's. 1t was
Bob.
For a moment he did not speak. De-
liberaesly he put down his hat and stick,
but kept in his hand a small package.
Helen waited breathlessly. She did not
even greet him. There was something
his manner, too. grimly tense for any
trivial word of greeting.
'Helen"-his voice was harsh-''do you
know where Louise is?'
She shook her head.
't5ave you heard from herr"
NO falteringly.
That's not the truth, but it doesn't
matter. I'm not trying to get in touch
with her. We're THROUGH. l only
want her to get these letters. VIII you
see that she does?"
''Why-what are they?"
Her letters, she asked me to return
them. I sent them yesterday but the
messenger was told that Miss Whitmere
and her father had left that morning.
Their apartment was closed. Now, win
you send them to her?'
Helen nodded.
ST would destroy them with bitter