The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1919-10-30

q man who could write such q letter
as that!" He stopped, faced her, and
spoke with more s%elf-control: "Well,
what are you going to do about it,
mother?"
George was right about his mothers
being proud. And even when she
laughed with a negro gardener, or even
those few times in her life when peo-
pie saw her weep, Isabel had a proud
look-something that was independent
and graceful and strong. But she did
not have it now: She leaned against
the wall, beside his dressing table, and
seemed beset with humility and with
weakness. Her head dropped.
"What answer are you going to
make to such a letter." George de-
manded, like a Judge on the bench.
"I-I don't quite know, DEAR" She
murmured.
"You don't?" he cried. "You-"
"Wait," she begged him. "Tm So
confused"
Il want to know what you're going
to write him. Do you think if YOU
did what he wants you to 1 could
bear to stay another day in this town,
mother? Do you think 1 could ever
bear even to e you again if you
married him? I'd want to, but you
surely know I just-couldn't!"
She made a futile gesture, and
seemed to breathe with difficulty. 81
II wasn't-quite sure" she faltered,
"about-about it's being wise for us
to be married-even before knowing
how you feel about it. I wasn't even
sure 1t was quite fair toto Eugene.
l have-I to have that family
trouble-like father's-that I spoke
to you about once" She managed a
deprecatory little dry laugh. "Not
that 1t amounts to much, but I wasn't
at all sure that it would be fair to
him. Marrying doesn't mean so much,
after all-not at my age. It's enough
to know that-that people think of
you-and to see them. 1 thought we
were all-oh. pretty happy the way
thugs were, and I don't think it would
mean giving up a great deal for him
or me, either, if we just went on as
we have been. II see him almost
every day, and"
"Mother" Georges voice was loud
and stern. "Do you think you could
go n seeing him after this"
She had been talking helplessly
enough before; her tone was little
more broken now. "Not-not even
see him?"
elbow could you?" George cried.
"Mother, it seems to me that if he
ever set foot in this house again
oh! I can't speak of it! Could you
see him, knowing what talk it makes
every time he turns into this street,
3nd knowing what that means to me
Oh, I don't understand all this-I
don't! If you told me, a year ago,
that such things were going to hap
pen. I'd have thought you were in
sane-and now I believe 1 ami"
Then, after a preliminary gesture of
despair, as though he meant harm to
the ceiling, he flung himself heavily,
face downward, upon the bed. His
anguish was none the less real for
its vehemence; and the stricken lady
came to him instantly and bent over
him, once more enfolding him in her
arms. She said nothing, but suddenly
her tears fell upon his head; she saw
them, and seemed to be startled.
ooh, this won't do" she said. GIVE
never let you e me cry before, ex-
cept when your father died. !
mustn't"
And she ran from the room.
4 little while after she had
gone, George rose and began solemnly
to dress for dinner.
He sat gauntly at the dinner table
with Fanny to partake of a meal
throughout which neither spoke. Is
abel had sent word mot to wait" for
her, an injunction it was as we'll they
obeyed, for she did not come at all.
But with the renewal Of %sustenance
furnished to his system, some relax
alton must have occurred within the
high-strung George. Dinner was not
quite finished when, without warning,
sleep hit him hard. His burning eyes
could no longer restrain the lids above
them; his head sagged beyond con-
troll; and he got his feet, and went
lurching upstairs, yawning with ex-
haustion. From the door Of his room,
which he closed mechanically, with his
eyes shut, he went blindly to his bed,
fell upon it soddenly, and slept-with
his face full upturned to the light.
... 1t was after midnight
when he.woke, and the room was dark.
He had not dreamed, but he woke with
the sense that somebody or something
had been with him while he slept
somebody or something infinitely COM
passionate; somebody or something in
finitely protective, that would let him
come to no harm and to no grief.
He got up, and pressed the light on.
Pinned to the Ove Of his dressing ia
bile was a square envelope, with the
words, "For you, DEAR" written in
pencil upon it. But the message in
side was in ink, a little smudged here