Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1923-01-04
CHAPTER XVIII
Norman Hears the News


| I was determined to forget entirely our
quarrel of the morning, and when Norman
returned that night met him with smile.
We were out on the porch waiting for Mary
| to announce dinner, when l told him my
news about Ediths arrival He seemed pleas
/ ed, but not much impressed and when
told him that Herbert was moving out to
| Hilton and that l had asked him to dinner
on Saturday night he frowned suddenly.
Eve asked the Benedicts for dinner on
Saturday.
! I crushed back the impulse to tell him
that he had no right to do that without first
consulting me, and fastened to respond:
That's all right, we'll have regular
party
But his face did not tighten, and leaning
| toward him put my hand impulsively over
4 his.
What is it, dear, are you displeased about
anything?'
,tOnIy that don't see how we can have
| any kind of a time with Livingston here. He's
such stick, and the Benedicts won't be in
1 terested in him. I hate them to think that
we haven't any interesting friends
! drew back quietly, So that was it, Nor
| man wanted to make an impression on Vivien
Benedict and our friends were poky and I'M
interesting, For the first time let him see
! that was angry, and as I rose to my feet
| said almost maliciously, tits too bad Alice
Wilson isn't in town; she's the only one of
our friends who might be interesting to the
Benedicts."
turned away and went into the house
before he could answer.
Dinner was CHASTITY. 1t seemed of late that
Norman and I were always miles apart in
our thoughts. But afterward he slipped his
arm about me and drew me to him.
I'm sorry, dear. l know / had no rigFA
take that attitude. No doubt Edith will
more than make up for Herbert's stoginess,
and we ought to have a good time"
But although l did not draw away from
him, there was no response in my heart. I
knew that Norman had not made conces-
sion because he was sorry for what he said
about Herbert, but because he wanted me to
be nice to Vivien Benedict. For the first
| time in my life deliberately faced the self
ishness that went to make up the greater
part of his nature Always before | had
excused him, but now, although 1 loved him
no less, I realized how little 1 could ever
hope to sway him. He would always do as
he liked; his love for me would make no diff
ference in his friendship for other women
and | could either accept that fact or batter
my happiness away on the rocks of separa-
ton. At the thought my heart turned cold
within me. Life without Norman; why, even
the thought of it unbearable. I could
never leave him, no matter what happened
L would cling to him, unless the time came
when he wanted to put me out OF his life,
and then my own life would be ended for
there would be no incentive to go on living.
This abject surrender in my own heart
made me- draw back in shame from the touch
, of his arms. I murmured an excuse about
| having to Mary about something, and
stole up the back stairs to my room.
There in the darkness curled up on the
window seat and tried to regain some of my
peace Of mind If life could only be as SIM
pie as it had seemed before my marriage
to Norman, then had been sure of him
and of my ability to hold him, and now the
way ahead seemed dark and perilous. Sup
pose the time came when Norman's interest
in woman would carry him away from me
entirely Suppose he should some day ask
his freedom of me! There was every reason
to suppose that in the future even that might
happen!
~