Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1919-04-25

the doctor told me he had given me
q narcotic. He wasn't quite so CAL
lous as he seemed.
Frank came home early as he had
planned. He remained beside me dur
ing the late afternoon, talking cheer
fully and often expressing his an
Xiety for fear l was suffering. He
insisted upon having dinner served
in my bedroom, so Ellen brought in
larger table and we had our din
ner together l had to be helped d
great deal and Frank insisted upon
cutting my food and sometimes he
ted me mouthful or two. We got
into quite a gale of laughter before
we finished. AS Ellen cleared away
while Frank went for some evening
again that he must love me little
and the pain was nothing compared
to the Joy of finding out that he
still cared.
Annie came over in the evening.
There was an indefina BILE air of EN-
barrassment about her even when
Frank left us alone. Before she left
was to know the reason: Every
thing is going to come out right,
olive" she said as she bent over me
and kissed me- Crank is awfully
anxious about you"
I understood it all in a flash. Frank
had expressed sorrow for me and in
his attitude toward Annie the same
love for her he had at other times.
But [ knew Frank. l knew that this
mood would soon pass away and that
he would be the same as before
the same to me-the same to Annie
unless 1 could prevent it.
Annie remained only a few mo-
ments. Most Of the time we spent
talking of the class, and the work for
the next day, which was Saturday.
81 shall not come down tomorrow
That will give me until Monday to
rest" l told her as she kissed me
good night.
Don't you come then unless you
feel perfectly able to do so, although
we miss you dreadfully.'
1t was good to have every one so
kind, even though one had to suffer
a little pain to find it out. That
even my pupils missed me was a
comfort.
The next day my arm, although
stiff and uncomfortable, did not pain
me unduly. L suffered not at all
from the other burns. So when Mr..
Curry called UP and asked if L should
be able to keep my deferred appoint
ment at his office l was able to tell
him I would be there.
I ordered a taxi and. took Ellen
with me, more to please her than be-
cause I really needed any one. Yet,
/ had to admit that l was a trlfle
awkward and clumsy because of my
injured arm.
7 left Ellen sitting in the taxi
while I went up to Mr.. Currys Of
flee. Fagin was already there sit
ting awkwardly on the edge Of a
chair twirling his greasy felt hat
with his dirty thumbs.
This is Mrs. Lampheer, the lady
with whom Annin has 1iUp1 fnr @
time" Mr.. Curry said by way Of in
PRODUCTION after he had questioned
me about my accident.
"Glad to meet. you: ma'am," Fa-
without rising he almost fell off the
' @Now, Fagin, tell Mrs. Lampheer
just what you have told me-" Then:
II will explain first that Fagin has
confessed that Annie is not his child.
THAI, Mrs; Fagiin was a nurse in the
family when she was born and was
paid sum for taking care of her by
an old aunt Of Annie's mother. 1t
happens that the aunt was supposed
to be the only living relative of the
child and when she died interstate
and they thought there was no more
money coming to them the E a;
go ahead. Tell Mrs. Lampheer the
story just as you told it to me-"
For half an hour [ listened to his
story. He spoke haltingly and SEEM
ed Ill at ease. But that he was tell
ing the truth l was sure. When he
finished Mr.. Curry said 1 might go.
He promised me he would say moth
ing to Annie until he had seen me
again.
It seemed to me that I walked on
air when l left that office: And it did
not need Ellen's expression of sur
prise to tell me that my face mir
rored my feelings.
Chapter xXTTI
a SIDE from in our classes 1 saw
II very little Of Annie. L did
n not invite her to the house
but neither did I take any
steps to keep her away or to longer
keep Frank and her apart. Yet with
joy I saw his desire for her was
diminishing. 1 cannot explain how
L first became sure that this was
so but as 1 no longer heSitated to
mention her, in fact often talked of
her, it may have been simply the
intonation of his voice or something
equally simple that first told me he
was losing interest.
had Weakened to the needs OF my
husbands character and disposition.
Many Of the things l have mention
ed, more that 1 have not. may seem
1OO11SI anu IIldAC L IdIlh SOSIll pc
culiar man, which he was not in any
sense of the word. He was just what
mother had described all men as be-
ing-children grown up. l had found
in my business life that if I made a
mistake, miscalculated the powers of
those under me, or even my own the
best thing L could do was to right
about face and do something else:
So [ figured in my married life. 1
had failed to hold my husband. Now
nothing was too insignificant if by
paying it attention I could win back
the love I nearly had lost.
I speak advisedly when L say
nearly" because my burns had
shown me that he still felt a certain
tenderness toward me, an anxiety for
my comfort and well-being.
Now I never allowed Frank to be-
come bored. 1t is not as easy as it
sounds to prevent this once a man
has decided you bore him. But I
applied my business principles all
the time, but without talking of
them or letting Frank have the slight
est idea he was being managed.
I made his home as delightfully."-
making it unrestful. 1 practiced as
siduously. L took singing lessons as
[ planned. I played for him when
he wished music and when he talk
ed of songs he had heard L imme-
diately bought them and sang them
for him. ! invited people whom he
liked to dine with us and often
planned little outings, 1 kept my
husband amused. He was not bored.
Does all this seem terribly trivial?
Was it beneath my dignity as a wife
and business woman to cater SO to
the small likes of my husband? Does
it appear as if love so sought, so
intrigued for, was not worth the
trouble? If it does, remember L loved
my husband. / longed desperately
for his love in return. And SO moth
ing seemed to me small or insignifi-
cant that helped me to win it.
Frank was artistic. I took more