Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1920-10-19
Evening Public Ledger

tine comes bnck--if she ever does" nh.
added deliberately.
You mean that you think she won't?"
ne questioned sharply.
II mean that hope she won't"
lence.
You'll find II duli--alono at UPTON
ffiouse;" he said presently IN mors
Yes" Gladys was Inundated to know
how near she was to weeping: she would
rather have died than let Kettering know
now desolate she felt.
You don't care for motoring do YOU ?"
he said suddenly. "Or I might come along
ana take you out sometimes"
Il do, love t."
amazement.
But you said" he began.
~ Know what said II was only an
other way OF expressing my disapproval
of-of-weH, you know!' she explained
oh" he said grimly: suddenly he
laughed. We'll, then, may cali and
taks you out sometimes? We shall both
be-lonely," he added with sigh. And
even II you don't like me-"
He waited. as II expecting her to con-
tradict him. but she did not, and II was
impossible for him to know that through
tne darkness her heart was aching, and
ner cheeks crimson because-fwell, per.
maps because she liked him too much
ioi SoHipiete happiness.
Jimmy and Christine travelled to Lon
Jimmy had done his best to make his
wlfe comfortable; he had wrapped a
rug round her. though IL was n mid
night he had bought more papers and
magazines than she could possibly read
seeing that ehe was disinclined to talk
ne mad finally retired to the other end
OF the carriage and pretended to be
asleep. ~
He was dying for a smoke; he would
M nave given his soul for cigarette, but
ne was afraid to ask for permission; eo
ne cat there in durance vile with his
arms folded tightly and his eyes half
closed, while the train sped on through
the night toward London.
Christine turned the pages Of her mag.
azines diligently. though It is doubtful II
she read a word or saw a single picture.
She folt very tired and dispirited: Il
was as IL she had been forced back
against sss her will to look once moro on
cheerlessness Of the church and vestry
had frightened her, ana when Jimmy
nad asked Sangster to lunch with them.
me thought of Sangster gave her a
gleam OF comfort: she liked him, ana
she wondered how soon she would see
him.
And then she thought of Kettering
and the last words he had said to her
on the steps at Upton House, and a little
sign escaped her. She thought Jimmy was
asleep she put down the magazine and
let herself drift. There was somethInp
about Kettering that had appealed to her
as no other man had ever done, some
shihg manly and utterly reliable. which
she found restful and protecting She
wondered what he would say when he
heard that she had gone back to Jimmy,
and what he would think.
She looked across at her husband his
eyes were wide open
quickly. "'"'l
mo, thank you," She seized upon the
magazine again; she flushed in con-
s.n,,y ,Iye ben been wondering, @ said Jimmy
when we get to town. think you'd be
more comfortable in-in my rooms IL
you wouldn't mind going there. but"
she interrupted hastily, "Pd much
it is-any place viii do" care ~HeFe
4. She spoke nurriedly. as II she wished
the conversation ended.
Jimmy looked at her wistfulIy, she
Sas was so,, SO pretty, much prettier than he
sense Of loss. A thousand times lately
he found himself wishing that Cynthia
Farrow had not died not that he want
ca her any more for himself. not that il
any longer made him suffer to think Of
her and those first mad days Of his en-
gagement, but SO that he might have
proved to Christine that the Fact of her
being In London and near to him affected
him not at all that he might prove his
lnlatuation Tor her to be a thing dead
Now he supposed she would never be-
lieve him He looked ut her pretty pro-
file. and with sudden impulse he rose 10
his feet and crossed over to sit beside
her.
II want to speak TO YOU" he said
when she made a little movement az n
touch YOU" W
There was a note Of bitterness in his
voice Once she had loved him to be near
her--a few short weeks ago--and she
would have welcomed this Journey with
him alone. but now things were so
utterly changed.
fnsak Ss .ss % yGS ypr.5 aSt about
once, and then I'll never mention her
again. can't hope that you'll believe
what I'm going to say. but-but I do
beg or you to Try to believe that I am
she's dead. II she hau lived II would
make no difference to me now; II she
were alive at this moment she would be
no more to me than--than any other
woman In the world"
Christine kept her eyes steadily before
her: she listened because she could not
help herself. but she felt as il some one
were turning knife In her heart,
THE night-the night she died"
Jimmy went on disconnectedIy. IT was
going to make a clean breast of-of
everything to you, and ask you to for
give me and let us start again. I was,
pom my honor I was, but-but Fate
stepped In, / suppose. ana you know
what happened. When I married you
I'll admit that-that I didn't care for
you as much as-as much as I ought to
have done, but now"
But now" Christine interrupted
steadily, though she was driven by in
tolerable pain-"now It's too late, I'm
not with you tonight for any reason ex-
cept that-that think it's my duty, and
because l don't want your brother to
know or to blame you. We've can't
ever be anything except ordinary friends,
suppose we can't get unmarried can
we?" she said with a little quivering
laugh. "But--but at least we need never
be anything more than-than friends"
Jimmy was very white Christine had
spoken so quietly, 30 decidedly, they
were not angry words. not even de'ibsr-
ately chosen to hurt him; they sounded
Just final!
He caught her hand.
"Oh, you don't mean that, Chris
tine; you are Just saying II toto
punish me, just to-to-pay me out. You
don't really mean it-you don't mean
that you've forgotten all the old days
you don't mean that you don't care for
me any more-that you never will care
for me again. I can't bear it., Oh, say