The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1920-09-11

ly. but she felt that she must go
quickly, before the smile got twisted.
Il shall come up Friday" he said,
land Jerry murmured an abrupt
Good night" and fled.
In her room, she threw herself in a
chair, pulled off the big hat and ran
her hand YEARLY through her thick,
dark hair AS she sat there, she had
an air as of one doing thing siren
uously, something that was not easy
to do-there was purposeful intent
ness about her-but after three or
four minutes, this abruptly left her
she relaxed and leaned back. He was
gone now-it was too late-something
came into her throat and made it
ache. Perhaps there was nothing in
this new program of theirs harder
than this-to refrain from going to
the window to watch his tall form go
swinging down the street, to wait for
him to turn at the corner, where he
always looked back to wave gay sa-
lutte. Would he look back tonight?
He would know why she was not
there. 1t was such a little thing-she
told herself impatiently-it was alb
surd to mind it so.
1t was all so absurd anyway. How
had she ever let herself get into such
a position? Then as the memory of
the last six months swept swiftly over
her, she realized how all too easy it
had BEEN Her meeting with Laurie
here, where they were both strangers.
Alone in a strange city, what more
natural than that they should be
friends, how could she have helped
loving him? He was SO big and
splendid and such a fascinating com
panion. She had known hosts of
friends and acquaintance all her life,
but never had she known such an
ideal companion, one whose every
mood fitted to hers. They had never
for an instant grated-for them there
| was no such thing as dissatisfaction in
the world when they were together.
Very gradually there had dawneG
| on her the danger of such a friendship
and then, just as the voice of pru
| dence was beginning to make itsel
heard love had swept down, blottins
out everything except the fate of his
presence. Defiantly she had taken the
happiness that Fate had brought he
knowing we'll that it was not to last
| She had Rugged to her breast this
| new-found joy and lived gorgeously
| gloriously, while it lasted. But thu
| spectre had come nearer and neare
until now it sttod between them, gaun
and terrifying.
! Jerry was a Catholic, not very fe1
vent, perhaps-her eager joy in lif
had carried her far from the tende
piety of convent days, but Catholi
she was and would be, there was NJ
faintest doubt of that.
And Laurie, with all his charming
good nature, his seeming pliablenesss
On one point was adamant. He wa
a staunch Presbyterian, like his fatt
er, and his family, his children, mus
of necessity walk in the same path.
| They did not discuss it-there wa
nothing to discuss. There were tw
facts, hard immovable, obvious
what was there to say, except gooG
bye?
| The bitter hopelessness of it rush
ed over Jerry again as she sat Their
staring absently at the little pin
Kewpie over her mirror. Nothing t
do, nothing to say-just goodbye
And she didn't want to say goodbye
she couldn't.
i She got up and walked restlessl
across the room and back; it SCENE
impossible to sit still and just SUI
fer. She laid her arms on the ia
dressing-table and dropped her hea
upon them. Vaguely she felt that sh
wanted to cry-but no teaa's cam'
She could not weep. Duly she VOL
dered why she was not crying he
eyes out-she had wept over sue
: silly things often, and now when sh
felt dreadful, she was not crying {
all.
After a little, she got ready fe
bed, but she did not sleep. She la
tossing rest1essly, conscious of
| strange, dull weariness Life SCENE
t to have grown suddenly so stupid an
dreary she could not think of a thin
. which sho would ever enjoy doir
S again. It was not just that she woul
e miss Laurie-she would be unable
enjoy anything else. ALI the thin,
she loved best would be the wor
: to bear. Music-that now spoke on
of his love and tenderness. The glo
of outdoors, of water and sun al
l. hills-what would they be witho
v him-without the dreams of him tn
y made everything radiant?
81 She sat up-she was tired and sic
l. but she did not want to rest Lyil
o down was not rest, any way. 81
d turned on the light and from the l
e tie table by her bed took a well-wo
6 copy of Rupert Brooks's poems. s,
ting back among the pillows, s.
J. opened the book at random and t
p first lines her eyes fell on were: