Vashon Island news-record. [volume] (Vashon, Wash.) 1919-1954, 1922-06-30

where together couple Of nights
n week.
There were times when it seem
ed to Art that Martha was more
irritable than of old. One night
he mentioned it to her, and soil
citously inquired whether she
were not sort of tired out from
going out 50 much lately.
"lcs", she fared, "when | do
try to have little amusement,
you want to know if it not tir-
ing me, and making me cross.
Who wouldn't get cross. All you
think Of me is whether | get the
meals on time. You make me
sick"
Art, who had no thot of start
ing such an outburSt, took refuge
in, " Now, now, Martha, you know
did not mean that, 20 ahead, |
and have all the good times you
can. "
That night when Martha met
al, she said, ooh, | am so sick
Of all the things | have to do. 1t |
is just like you said. Nothing
do suits Art, and Arthur has been
gone over week now and hasn t !
even written me letter. I'd |
| like TO ditch the whole thing -
Martha-dear'', AL spoke
softly, as if he were afraid Of
frightening her mood away,
"comc with me, I'll make you
happy. III stay with you always, !
and amusc you, please come. ?"
And Martha, as is the age old
way Of women, believed that he
meant it, and said she would go
to the ends of the earth with him.
For fear she would change her
mind if he gave her too much
time, AL suggested that they go
the very next hight. She hcsitat-
ed. and he encouraged her with, !
But think how nice it will be
never to have to listen to Art 5
fault-fnding any more, or do any |
work at adjust be my queen.
She gave in, and AL left her ut
her own door, with a promise to
be at the depot at nine the next |
night.
The day dawned earlier than
usual, it seemed to her, and it
was absolutely endless. Some
how she whiled away the time,
trying to be as decent as possible
to Art. Once or twice she felt a
twinge Of remorse at leaving Art
to shift for himself, but she steel
ed herself against such feelings
by recalling AIS oft-repeated
statement, that if Art cared for
her, he would not leave her to
her own devices.
At four O'Clock Art left, and
she feverishly went about the bus
mess of packing. There was
very little of it to do, for she was
just taking one suitcase. She was
done long before the time to go,
and she sat down to try to read
a story. But the story could not
hold her attention, and much to
her disgust she found herself con- !,
|tinually thinking Of Art. She re-
called the time when they were
first married. How good he was
to her in the days after Arthur
came. How proudly he sent her
home to show off the finest baby
in the world" She smiled to
herself as she recalled the first
time they had ever spanked him.
1t had taken them both to do it,
and neither of them put much
heart in it. But she shook off
these foolish thots. Of course he
was cute baby, but then that
was no sign she should permit
herself to be neglected by every
one now.
Martha glanced at the clock.
1t was time to go. Hurriedly she
gathered up her grip, and went
out. She locked the door, stuck
the key under the mat, and brave
ly started without so much as
backward glance. When she got
to the step, she thot maybe she
should take one final look at the
house she would never see again.
She looked back, and noticed
white CLEAN in the mailboX.
Probably it was a bill, she would
MT look. Still, it might be
something she wanted. She took
lit out. Curiosity gripped her,
and she fshed out the key, unlock
ed the door, and went in. When
she turned on the light, she knew
by the sprawly writing that the