The Tomahawk., 1919-11-20


| of 1t, because we haven't any, but
someone else's fear Of it-your sons.
And, oh, dearest woman in the world,
know what your son is to you, and it
frightens me! Let me explain a little
don't think he'll change-at twenty
one or twenty-five so many things ap-
pear solid and permanent and terrible
which forty sees are nothing but dis
appearing miasma. Forty can't tell
twenty about this; that's the pity of
It'll Twenty can find out only by get
! ting to be forty. And so we come to
this, dear: Will you live your own life
your way, or Georges way? I'm going
a little further, because it would be
fatal not to be wholly frank now.
George will act toward you only as
your long worship of him, your sac
rifices-all the unseen little ones every
day since he was born-will make him
act. Dear, it breaks my heart for you,
but what you have to oppose now is
the history Of your own selfless and
perfect motherhood. = I remember say
ing once that what you worshiped In
your son was the angel you saw in him
and I still believe that is true Of
every mother. But in a mothers wor.
ship she may not see that the will In
her son should not always be offered in
cense along with the angel. I grow sick
with fear for you-for both you and
me-when I think how the will against
Us two has grown strong through the
love you have given the angel-and
how long your own sweet will has
served that other. Are you strong
enough, Isabel2 Can you make the
fight? I promise you that If you will
take heart for 1t, you will find SO quick
ly that it has all amounted to nothing.
You shall have happiness. and, in a
little while, only happiness. You need
only to write me q line-1 can't come
to your house-and tell me where you
will meet me. We will come back in
| month, and the angel In your son
will bring him to you; I promise It.
What is good in him will grow so fine,
once you have beaten the turbulent
will-but it must be beaten!
"Your brother, that good friend, Is
waiting with such patience; I should
not keep him longer-and am saying
too much for wisdom, fear. But, oh,
my dear, won't you be strong-such q
little short strength it would need
Don't strike my life down twice, dear
this time I've not deserved 1t.
':EUGENE."
Concluding this missive, George
tossed it abruptly from him SO one
sheet fell upon his bed and the others
upon the floor; and at the faint noise
of their falling Isabel came. and, kneel'
ing, began to gather them up.
"Did you read it, dearf'
Georges face was pale no longer,
hut pink with fury. 'Yes, did,"
"Au of it," she asked gently, ~ she
rose.
"Certainlyi"
She did not look at him, but kept her
eyes downcast upon the letter In her
hands, tremulously rearranging the
sheets in order as she spoke-and
though she smiled, her smile was as
tremulous as her hands. Nervousness
and an irresistible timidity possessed
her. III wanted to say, George" she
faltered. II felt that if-h some day
it should happen-I mean, If you came
| to feel differently about It, and Eu-
gene and I-that is If we found that 1t
seemed the most sensible thing to do
I was afraid you might think It would
be little queer about-Lucy. I mean
if-n she were your step-sister. OF
course. she'd not be even legally re-
lated to you, and II you-if You cared
for her"
Thus far she got stumblingly with
what she wanted to say, while George
watched her. with . gaze that grew
harder and hotter; but here he cut her
of. II have already given up all idea
of Lucy" he said. NATURALLY,
couldn't have treated her father as I
deliberately did treat himI could
hardly have done that and expected his
daughter ever to speak to me again" !"
Isabel gave q quick cry Of compass
sion, but he allowed her no opportunity
to speak. You needn't think I'm
making any particular sacrifice" he
said sharply, 'though I would, quickly
enough, If I thought 1t necessary In .
matter of honor like this. I was inter.
ested in her. and I could even say /
did care for her; but she proved pretty
satisfactorily that she cared little
enough about mel The truth Il, we're
not congenial and we'd found that
much out, at least, before she left We
should never have been happy; Ghe
was superior al the time, and critical
Of me-not very pleasant, thatl I
don't think she has the very deepest
nature In the world, and"
But Isabel put her hand timidly On
his arm. "George, dear, this Is only ;
quarrel; all young people have them