The Glenwood post., 1923-06-28
then few to the pursuit Of whatever
pennies remained.
CHAPTER vii

II was a regular thing for Mra
PenHeld to be called to Number Al.
Mrs. Sanders lived there, alone ex-
cep. for roomer; and during the few
months since she had come to The
Custard Cup, she had summoned
Mrs. Penfield several times when over
wrought nerves had brought her to
climax of suffering. Her neighbors
had little patience with these attacks
Because of the weeping and lamenta-
tions which were the outer symbols
of her distress, they had nlcknamed
her Sobsuds. And she knew it.
Sensitive to an attitude which she
interpreted as unsympathetic. Mrs.
Sanders turned for comfort to Mrs.
Pentield as the only one Of her neigh
bors who could soothe her into equl-
ubrium.
1t was Monday, and Mrs. Penfield
was In the midst Of washing; but
when the summons came. she made
all haste to respond, her office being
that Of the physician who Is called in
an emergency.
She found Mrs Sanders in her small
living-room, pacing rapidly back and
forth, beating the air with her
clenched fists.
They exchanged no word Of greet
ing. Mrs. Penheld entered casually,
as If she had happened to think of 1t
in passing. Mrs. Sanders gave her q
glance Of recognition, but said moth
ing.
TITS colder today" remarked Mrs.
Seems mite like fall If you amt
In the sun. What do you say If l
make us some tea to drink while
we're chattingr'
Mrs. Sanders did not reply, but the
taut muscles in her face relaxed the
merest trife. Mrs. Penfield went into
the kitchen and poured boiling water
over the hops she had brought She
found tray and arranged her serv-
Ice daintlly, as If the occasion were
purely social. She was profoundly
sorry for Mrs. Sanders, whose nerves.
she understood, had been shattered
by grief until at times they became
uncomfortable. She filled bag with
hot water and went back.
Keep your hands on this when you
can," she advised briskly. "You can
hold 1t in your lap while we're drink
ing this here tea Yes, know the
teas hot, but you can sip 1t. My, 1t
tastes good, don't it?"
Mrs. Sanders finished her tea and
put down the cup. '1m sorry" she
whispered, with quivering lips, "but ]
couldn't stay here by myself. ! got
to thinking and L Oh!-" She
sprang to her feet, tossing the hot
water bag to the floor. and took up
her pacing again. She was small
woman, with thin. white face and
gray eyes that at the moment were
burning with rebellion.
''Oh. can't stand it; can't stand
It," she cried aloud. beating her
hands together. II get to thinking,
and it"
Mrs. Penfield had risen, too. "Yes.
l know" she interrupted quietly. ut
shuts off your breath, and your blood
runs cold. 1t makes creation seem
big and cruel and against you"
Mrs. Sanders wheeled and fixed
her with strange look, as If she
could not believe that 1t was her
neighbor who had spoken. Eyes, like
that, but it's so much worse being by
myself. It's different with you. You
got the children. They keep you
going"
"Yes, they kesp me going"
$50 you see what I mean. I'm all
alone-all alone"
"Yes."
"An alonel" repeated Mrs. Sanders,
her voice rising to shrek. "Oh, it's
awful. never been alone before. I
hain't told you how twas. but-two
years ago-1 lost my husband-my
mother-then my brother. 1t left me
alone-absolutely alone. I don't get
over 1t. Sometimes" Her words
sank. Sometimes / think shall go
crazy-that may end It"
Mrs. Penfeld regarded her calmly.
"Guess most Of us feel that way, first
or last. But it's only selfishness talk
ing to U.S. Easiest thing we can do Is
to CO."
Mrs. Sanders stopped in her pacing
The keenness Of her establishment
drove the tension out OF her bearing;
she was suddenly limp from the shift
ing Of emotion.
"You!" she exclaimed.
Mrs. Penfield gave her a smile that
had nothing in 1t Of amusement. "I,"
she confirmed. "My dear. you didn't
s'pose. did you, that the Lord had
singled you out to see II He could
break a string in your hearth"
But you'll I'd never thought as
you"
Mrs. Fenfield's face settled into
lines that Mrs. Sanders had not seen
before-into the rgidity Of forced
control. II don't speak Of It," she
said jerkily. II can't. 1t hurts more.
Amt nobody here knows.
had pretty home once. My-my
husband was contractor; he had n