Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1923-04-17

WE understood her, and nodded, when,
II after taking turn two about the
Il room, he again stopped in front OF her,
his angry flush had subsidized.
He went upstairs soon after that, leaving
her still in her chair, swathed in furs, her
round anxious face bent in thought. He had
rarely seen her so troubled so uncertain OF
her next move, and he surmised shrewdly
enough that her emotions were complex
of anxiety for himself with Elizabeth, of pity
for David, and of the memory of Dick Llv-
ngstones haggard face
She sat alone for some time and then went
reluctantly up tie stairs to her bedroom. She
felt like Wallie that she had too much at
stake to decide easily what to do.
In the end she decided to ask Dr. Reynolds
advice, and in the morning she proceeded to
do it. Reynolds was interested, even little
excited, she thought, but he thought it bet
ter not to tell David. He would himself go
to Harrison Miller with it.
"You say he knew you?" he inquired,
watching her. Il suppose there is no doubt
about that?
Certainly not. He's known me for years.
And he asked about David.
81 see" He fell into profound thought,
while she sat in her chair trifle annoyed
with him He wondering how all this
would affect him and his prospects, and
through them his right to marry. He had
walked into good thing, and into very
considerable content.
81 see," he repeated, and got up "I'll tell
Miller, and we'll get to work. We are all very
grateful to you, Mrs. Sayre."
AS a result of that visit Harrison Miller
and Bassett left that night for Chicago. They
left it to DR.. Reynolds medical judgment
whether David should be told or not, and
REYNOLDS himself did not know. In the end
he passed the shuttle the next evening to
Glare Rosstter.
Something's troubling you, she said
you're not bit like yourself, old dear"
He looked at her. To him she was all that
ind 10nt
give got something to SETTLE" he said II
was wondering, while you were singing, dear,
if you could help me out"
"When I sing you're supposed to listen.
Well? What is it?" She perched herself on
the arm of his chair, and ran her fingers over
his hair. She was very fond of him, and she
meant to be good wife. If she ever thought
of Dick Livingstone it was in connection with
her own reckless confession to Elizabeth. She
had hated Elizabeth ever since
'"TIl take a hypothetical case. If you
guess, you needn't say. Or course it's great
| secret"
She listened, nodding now and then. He
used no names, and he said nothing of any
teThe point is this" he finished. "Is it bet
ter to believe the man is dead, or to know
he is alive but has cut himself off,"
There's no mistake about the recognl'
"somebody from the village saw him in
Chicago within a day or two, and talked to
him.
She had the whole picture in a moment.
She knew that Mrs. Sayre had been in Chlca-
go, and that she had seen Dick there and
| talked to him. She turned the matter over
in her mind, shrewdly calculating, planning
her small revenge on Elizabeth even as she
| talked.
I'D wait" she advised him. HE may come
| back with them, and in that case David Will
| know soon enough. Or he may refuse to, and
that would kill him. He'd rather think him
| dead than that"
She slept quietly that night and spent
rather more time than usual in dressing
that morning. Then she took her way to
the Wheeler house. She saw in what she
was doing no particular culpable thing. She
had no great revenge in mind; all that she
intended was an evening Of the score, be-
tween them "He preferred you to me, when
you knew I cared. But he has deserted
you" And perhaps, too, a small present
jealousy, for she was to live in the old brick
Livingstone house, or in one like it, while
all the village expected ultimately to see
Elizabeth in the house on the hill.