The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-02-24
SYNOPSIS.

lady wife, EmeIine, grew up in an tam osphere of constant quarreIing be- tween her mother and father. At IA Julia was planning to become an ac- Iress, and Mark Rosenthal of the floor above had fallen in love with her.
 But contact with society girls in an amateur play in winch she had pro- tess1onal part, made her long for the better things of life and when her mother left the city to rejoin her di- Vorced husband, Julia become as sistant to Miss Poland, wealthy but an eccentric phiIanthropist at her settle
 Max, meanwhile, had been con stantly urging her to marry him, and finally, jealous of Dr. Jim Studdiford, the young nephew of Miss Toland, he shot himself, falling dead at her feet fin the neighborhood house.
 Julia and Dr. Studdiford, some time later, became engaged but Julia con- fessed tha+ she could not marry him because she had made a mistake in her life, before she was Is years old. Jim was mortified but insisted that she marry him. As young Mrs. Studdi- ford Julia became great favorite in San Francisco society. A chance brought old thoughts to Jim and he demanded to know if Mark were the man to whom Julia had given her self. When she admitted it, he brooded for days over the old mem Ory.
 (Continued From Yesterday.)
 The hint of a frown wrinkled Ju- lla $ Forehead, her eyes were Sonbre with her own thoughts.
 Think what it would mean to Mother and to Bab, and to all of us,'' Jim pursued, as she did not speak. They've been worried about it-they care so much!"
 Yes. know!' Julia said quickly, and fell silent again.
 ''IS it your own mothers need of you?" the man asked after a pause.
 ''No,' Julia gave a cautious glance at the kitchen door behind her. 'fNo Aunt May is wonderful with her. MurieTs at home good deal, and Geraldine very near,'' she said. And pnore than that, this separation be- tween you and me worries Mother terribly; she doesn't understand it. Shes very different in these days, Jim, so gentle and good and brave ] never saw such a change! No, she'd love to have me go if it was the best thing to do-it's not that
 Her voice dropped on a note of fatigue. Her eyes continued to dwell on the child in the garden.
 I've done all I can do,' Jim said. "Don't punish me any more!'
 Julia laughed in a worried fash ion, not meeting his eyes.
 There you are." she said, faintly impatient, assuming that I am az grieved about it, assuming that am sitting back, su1king and waiting for Sou to humi1iate yourself! My dear Jim, I'm not doing anything of the kind. I don't hold you wholly re- sponSible for all thfs-how could 19 know too we'll that I myself am or was-to blame. All these years. when people have been blaming you and plying me, I've longed to burst out with the truth, to tell them what you were too chiva1rous to tell. For your sake and Anna's I couldn't do f nf JoJJt ma inc that it's made me a silent champion bf yours, just the samei But our marriage was mistake, Jin1,' she went on slowly and thoughtful1y. Ut was all very we'll for me to try to make myself over; I couldn't make you, never should have tried. Theoretically, I had made a clean breast of 1t, and was forgiven; but actually, the law was too strong. It's hard and strange that it should be so, isn't ite I don't understand 1t: never shall. For still 1t seems as If the punishment followed, not so much the fact, as the facts being made known. If I had robbed some one fifteen years ago. or taken the s1ame of the Lord in vain, wonder If it would have been the same? As for keeping holy the seventh day, and dlonouring your father and mother. and not ccveting your neighbours etoods, how little they seem to count! Even the most virtuous and rigid people would forgive and forget fast enough in those cases. It's all q pug kle." JuHa's voice and look, which had grown dreamy, now brightened suddenly. And so the best thing to do about it. she went on, 'secrns fp me to make your own conscience your moral law. and feel that what Srou have repented truly, Is truly for given So much for me" She met his eyes. But, my dear Jim, I never gould take it for granted again that knu felt so about it!"
 Then you do me injustice" said Jim. flor I swear--
 "Oh. don't swear.' she interrupted ''I know you believe that now, as s7ou did once before But I know hou better than you do yourself. Jim. Your attitude to me is always gen erous, but it's always conventional. loo. You never would remind me of all this I know that very well. but always, in your own heart, the reservation would be there, the re- get and the pityl I know that I am a better w Drnan and a stronger wonl- an for all th1s thinking and suffer sng; you never will believe that. Let us suppose that we began again. Don't you know that the day would come when my opinion would clash with that of some other woman in Society. and you knowing what you know of me, would feel that I was not qualified to judge in these things as other women are? Let us sup bose that I wanted to befriend maid who had got herself into trouble. to take some wayward girl into my house for a trial; how patient would Sou be with me, under the circurn- Etances?"
 .'Of course, you can always think sup perfectly hypothetical circum- Btauces!'' Jim said impatiently.
 Marriage is difficult enough" Ju- Ga pursued. ''But marriage with handicap is impossible! To feel that there is something you can't change. that never will change. and that stands eternally between you, No, snarrtase isn't for us. Jim, and we