The Pulaskian., 1919-04-04
CHAPTER V!I-Continued.

The Windstorm the previous week had made a sickening devastation of her labors. The morning-glories alone were scatheless. A pink oleander dropped many broken branches from which miracles of perfect flowers were unfolding. The. prettiest blossom to Hardin YVES the gardener herself. She was vivid from eager toll. Hardin looked at her. 'approbatively. He liked her khaki suit, simple as 6 uniform, with its flowing black tie and leather belt. She looked more like herself to- day. She had bleached out, in Tucson. She had been letting herself get too tanned, running around without hats. Sunburn paled the value of those splendid eyes of hers. He could always tease her by likening them to topazes. His eyes ran over the pink and pur- |pe lines of cord-trained vines which made floral screens for her tent. Free Eof the strings overhead, they rioted over the ramada, the second roof, of living boughs. He acknowledged their beauty. They gave grace to bare ne |eessity; they denied the painting, thirsty desert just beyond.
 He remembered his own ramada. sGerty had hated it. had complained of sit so bitterly when she came home sfrom New York that he had had it pulled down and replaced by a V roof Sof pine boards, glaring and ugly. Gerty Twas satisfied, for it was clean; she no Slonger felt that she lived in a squaw shouse. Let the Indians have ramadas; Srhere was no earthly reason she should. zlie had urged that the desert dwellers Shad valuable hints to give them. But EThat was a remada to him, or anything Selse? Hardin turned to leave.
 4 She did not want him to go so soon. zShe pointed out a new vine to him. &She had brought it from Tucson; &Kudzu," they called it; a Japanese zrne. And there was another broken 8fose, quite beyond the help of stripped
 handkerchiefs and mesquit splints.
 q He followed her around the tent, her zprattle falling from his grim mood. He
 NVas not thinking of her flowers except zas a mocking parallel. The desert
 Storm had made havoc of his garden
 a sorry botch of his life. He and Elnnes had been trying to make a gar #uen out of desert; the desert had #louted them. It was not his fault. *something had happened; something &Qulte beyond hls power. Luck was Turning against him.
 4 lnnes, why, she was playing as with
 a toy. It was the natural instinct of #Woman to make things pretty around ger But he had sacrificed his youth, %As chances. His domestic life, too- zhe should never have carried dainty @ltue woman like Gerty into the des- Frt He had never reproached her for #saVlng him, even last time when he brought it was for good. The word Eurned his wound. Whose good? His Er Gerty's? Somehow, though they *Nrangled, he always knew it would zFufn out all right; life would run elnoothly when they left the desert. kout things were getting worse; his *noeth puckered over some recollec- [iohs. Yet he loved Gerty; he couldn't *peture life without her. He decided Rilat It was because there had never &'eeh anyone else. Most fellows had
 'au SWeethearts before they married;
 e had not, nor a mistress when she $elt him, though God knows, it would
 'use been easy enough. His mouth ' n lllto sardonic lines. Those half
 ,.eeu women! No one, even when
 .lsorce had hung over him. Oh, he %new what their friends made of each
 9ertys heightened flights; he knew!
 ut mat had been spared him, that lsar grisly spectacle of modern life
 ,lieh TWO people who have been lovers
 -'ag the carcass of their love over the
 ,HiS noor of curious gaping court. $ eiiuudered. Gerty loved him. Else,
 Hs had she come back to him? Why
 au sle not kept her threat when he luSeu 10 abandon his desert project
 lu turn his abilities into a more
 aonlaole dedication? He could see
 ,ace as she stared flushing up into
 ,nn sl'al nlpping cold day when he had
 an a luto her on Broadway. He remem- ~ ', ner coquetry when she suggest
 ,on 'nae there was plenty of room in
 of apartment! His wife! She spoke
 seeing his pictures in the papers.
 N ii'ta grown to be great man.o
 -iat piquant meeting. fhe week fol-