The Washington times., 1923-11-08

brass sign fastened to the back of
his desk, facing the office. It
read: p. Baldwin-Insurance--
Notary Public. He arranged to
pay something every month to the
stenographer employed there, to
take care Of his meagre cores
pondence.
The Baby
He was encouraged by his pros.
poets and he hoped news Of them
might cheer his wife. Leila's con-
finement had been an easy one.
the baby was tiny thing-and in
three or four days the new mother
was sitting up. But Leila would
have nothing to say to him.
When Philip came to her room in
the early mornings and in the
evenings. to find out how she was
getting on, she treated him gloom.
lily. resentfully. What words they
exchanged were about how she
felt, the baby's looks and appetite,
the trained nurses idiosyncracies,
but nothing was said of them.
selves or Of the future.
A frank discussion of what they
would have to do might be post!
poned, but it could not be indeft.
nitely avoided. Philip was eager
to be on friendly terms with his
wife again, to get adjusted to
new order Of existence as quickly
as possible. There was no use in
Leila's bucking and grumbline
forever about the matter, he told
himself. They were broke" they
would have to alter their style of
living, and the quicker they set
about it the better 1t would be
TOR them. He was a long way
from guessing what was passing
in his wife's mind.
For days, and during dark
sleepless hours at night, she had
furiously rebelled at the prospect
lying before her. She fought des.
perately for an escape from the
walled prison which suddenly had
reared itself about her. All her
life she had schemed for a mar
riage of affluence, a marriage that
would give her the financial and
social security she craved. Lucy,
Wilbur-everybody-had told her
Philip was worth three or four
hundred thousand dollars. It was
not as much as she wanted. but il
was enough-and she had realized
the years were narrowing down
her chances for the kind of alIi-
ance she would have considered
ideal. She had talked to Philir
about his resources, and they had
seemed to her sufficient. Con their
travels he had provided for her
literally; there had been no stint
OF money, and she had put her
fears forever behind her. The few
months of easy entertaining she
had enjoyed upon their return had
been all she desired. She consid-
cred herself perfectly satisfied.
Poverty
And now to go back to self.
denial and penury-to begin all
over again, to know once more the
plnching and patching, the dread
fuf familiarity Of poverty! More
than all. the thought OF being
again a social parasite, a hanger
on a gatherer-of-crumbs from
society's table. was intolerabIc!
She could not-she would not go
back to it!
Her baby had brought another
complication. Mother love stirred
within her from the moment the
golden-headed little girl was laid
In her arms, and when, after the
third day the uncertain little lips
had found their way to her burst
ing breast. and she had felt their
tug and strain upon her store of
life-giving nourishment, her love
had famed into fierce tenderness
and yearning. The intensity of
her affection surprised her; she
had not foreseen it; her mental
attitude was upset. the old banker
ing for social preference lost some
OF its allurement. Pride asserted
itself; she would not be patronized
nor pitied.
CTo Be Continued Tomorrow