Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1922-07-15
FOR VALUE RECEIVED By &c
e Euenng Public Ledger Nw Short Stories in the Series of Unpublished
Fiction bv the Best American Writers of the Day

"Come In" Miriam had said, and
far that remained the fullness of ex
PLANTATION between them.
Anita was thinking Of It today be-
cause Of the letter she had brought from
the village, the letter postmarked Cleve-
land and forwarded by the man who
took cases like hers.
You will remember that you were
warned,' her mother had written.
Your hiding yourself away now Is
nothing more than n pose. 1t doesn't
help things. You can get your divorce
here as well as wherever you are. and
you will come home at once, where you
belong. The sooner 1t is all over. and
we can forget the unfortunate af-
fair---'
Anita's lips twisted into n bitter
little smile; her eyes hardened. She
crossed the road to the grassy bank
under the apple tree, and leaned her
elbows on the fence, looking off across
the mellowing fields. Beyond n tremu
lous breath of green along the river !;
early -plowcd burrows cleaning where
the setting sun touched them: purpled
shadows under the hill, apple blow in
her hair, bluets and violets under her
feet, world pusing to new life--this
quietude, this peace, peace but for her
thoughts-her being here pose!
Oh, yes. they had warned her !.
Heavens, how hadn't they warned her
She had been won by the glamour Of n
uniform; they didn't know anything
about his people; he wasn't their Sort !!
He was poor; worse. he was visionary,
with those talked of inventions Of his ;
did she suppose she could be happy as a
poor mans wife, even though she did
have wee bit Of money Of her own?
And look at the way his lips set, and
that hard look that came into his eyes
when he faced their perfectly natural
opposition to the marriage. She had
always been headstrong, always wanted
her own way; did she think she could
get on with a man like that? Oh. it
was unthinkable; 80 the family had
warned her. And their warnings had
but added to her feeling Of release, her
joyous sense Of conquest, when she had
gone to her man.
Four years ago-and now It was all
over. Her mother had no better word
for it than to call it an unfortunate
affair, that marriage and the divorce
she was waiting for. No better word
for those four brimmng years of life.
Only that, for the first glad confidence
Of having found her mate for the
happy making Of the little home for
her pride In her Michael. That, for
the daily growing loneliness. the feeling
Of being cut off from her own world
for the slowly creeping reserves be-
tween them that had been swept away
at lessening intervals, by the reblos,
| soming of their love; that-for quarrels
ard kisses. for bitter words and re-
pentaut cheek to cheek, for the hour!
that he was away from her and his in
. CTcuSIHS uDSOIplIol III his "OIh uI'
| her unreasonable jealousy OF It for th'
crown!ng moments of their repledgeC
/ love-oh, for all Of it, everything.
Not great things; not even grea
things, but little things that totaled 81
disastrously high; and at last, for he
conviction that their marriage had bee
n mistake, that they were not meant 70
each other, that the only thing to d
was TO end II, TO end It.
Then. her flight: her communication
with him through the man who too
cases like hers; and, at last, Miriam's
NYOw for q month she had been here
~ where she had thought peace mus
dwell: been here watching spring come
watching Miriam. thinking. Sap risin:
birds on the wing; Miriam, working
anita, thinking. Miriam plowin.
Miriam at work in the garden, sowir
early peas. digging parsilps and takil
: . share TO the house next door an
, leaving them on the doorstep. Anita
watching, thinking. Miriam and h