Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1921-12-12
CHAPTER XXVI
The DrepS of Love

The Dregs OF Love
when Mark had finished speaking !
leaned against the gate, feeling as n
every bit of life and hope had gone out
Of me. e0'' 0u'
Ihere was something SO final in the
Shakiness of his voice; something that
seemed to tell me that if-.as he had
Safd-he was sorry, it was only because
ne knew he was hurting me. and not In
the least because he was hurt himself
IN my heart voice seemed to BE-
urging me to go away and leave him.
TO summon all my pride to my aid.
longed to be able to tell him that |
qua not really care. that I had only
oegn acting, but what was the use?
~ l had not cared, should l have
stayed out in the pouring rain in Tho
hope of seeing him?
Ana then, as l tried to speak. he
broke out again:
lou must 80 home. It's madness to
stay here. You'll catch your death of
my word of honor that I will come ONE and and
see you in the morning"
he spoke as If I was a sick child
VINO needed humoring, and perbaps he
was right. but the very gcntleness Of
ms voice hurt me unbearably, and !
proke OUT Ike fury.
1our word of honor. You haven't
nny hohor l never wish to see YOU
usain. thought you were a gentle.
man ! wouldn't believe Mr.. Cham.
p pton "nen ne said the things he did
soout s you. | thought you were the
oest man IN the world, but now I hate
you. | hate myself because I ever
thought | cared for you. I hate myself
because l let you kiss me ."
eally He caught my wrist in n
grip that hurt, but I went on madly.
!! snow you how little 7 care for
you ! II marry the first man who asks
me. If he's as old as Mcthuselah. III
marry him, or if he's as ugly as sin"
Sally-for Gods sake ="
struck at the hand holding me.
Leave me alone. Take your hand
away. l hate you to touch me-"
he let me 60 then, and there was n
heaVy silence, broken only by his quick
breathing; then he said again hoarsely ::
Let me take you home-I beg of
you"
l was shaking from head to foot
with passionate anger and pain. Ny
voice was all queer little staccato notes
as | answered:
Yes, to get rid of me-that's all
>"iS iva ouppOSe you re going
to marry your cousin, that's the truth,
and you're too much of a coward to tell
me. Well--1'm sorry for her. that's
all. ] don't like her: never did, but
she's too good for you anyway. Any
woman in the world would be too good
for man like you ="
Sally - He spoke my name now
with cry with a note so strange
that 1t seemed to check my headlong
PASSION. and for moment I forgot
everything except how cold and wet and
tired I was.
Then I said in a quiet little voice
that did not sound in the least like
mine:
I'm going home now. Good by"
He did not answer, but as | turned
away ! knew that he was following,
and though l never once looked around
| knew that he followed me to the
farm, and stood waiting to see me safely
indoors.
Mrs. Albcrry opened the door, and
she gave a loud cry of horror when
she saw my wet, draggled condition.
"Oh, my poor dear; my poor dear :"
she said, and her voice was SO kind
and motherly that ] felt as If l must
throw myself into her arms and sob
out all my misery but l set my teeth
and turned away.
please leave me alone" l said, and
she stood back, and l went on up to
my own room and shut the door
lay awake all night. unable to close
my eyes, unable to shed tear, my
hands clenched tightly, saying over and
over again In my heart, II hate him
l hate him !"
think did hate him think, had
1t been possible to do him any mad
sort of injury I would have done it
that night.
When the morning came I dreaded
having to face the Alberrys as II moth
ing had happened. I took as long as
l could over my dressing. I went slowly
downstairs. feeling as II that one night
had changed me from a girl into an
old woman. | was just at the bottom
stair when I heard voice in the
ing of my heart-for 1t was Marks!
Why had he come? am ashamed
to confess that, In spite of all that
had happened, the frantic hope leaped
through me that perhaps he had not
meant what he said-that he had come
to ask me to forgive him, and con-
fess that had he done 30 | would have
forgiven him.
l stood there clinging to the balus-
ters, trembling In every limb, waiting
for tho door to open and for Mrs.
Alberry to call me; but the minutes
passed, and then ] heard his voice die
away, and presently his step In the
yard outside.
He had gone. l rushed up to my
room and saw him walking away down
the road with the same easy tread
and easy carriage that / had always
so much admired. He held his head
just as high as ever. He did not look
as II he had spent tortuous night of
wakefulness.
Il watched with burning eyes till he
had disappeared; then l went dcWn to
brel fast. n,