The Washington times., 1924-04-07
CHAPTER XXI.
Worlds Judgment.

CHAPTER XXI.
Worlds Judgment.
So it ei1ded-Chickie's first step
on the road back. 1t came as she
was beginning to find the sun
golden again; q flower along the
way.
And this exposure was more
terrible than the first because it
was prophetic. It foretold with
ruthless candor, her future.
She need have no doubt now
as to the worlds attitude.
She had broken the law. She
had loved and brought her child
here without. permission.
Did she think this slight mat
ter? Did she think she could
erect q little stone above the
dead baby's grave; make up
name for It; push her own hurts
far down under valiant smile
and then come back? Put out
her hands to Life and say: "Oh.
Life, it's done and past: let me
try again-please"? Did she
think she could reach out her
hands like that as though ner
hands were clean?
she did. For Chickie's heart was
q soft and glowing thing. It had
never seen the evil Of her sin as
the world saw It; never felt itself
all shame and degradation be-
cause of having loved. Oh, it
had fine, eager pulses made for
Joy. They could throb yet.
So her heart had hoped, even
when her mind. so deeply hurt
in its young pride, was beaten.
1t had hoped on as vivid hearts
will, but now 1t too was schooled;
it, too, had learned.
Thine world did not want it;
the world would not have it.
Chickie lay on her bed, her face
hidden in the pillows. 1t seemed
that thousand tons were
upon her, pressing and pressing.
She could never rise; shake them
free.
Again and again she went
though the scenes: Edith Pot
ter confronting her with that
cold, enraged look, then walking
up and stripping the basket from
Chickie's arm. AS though
thing whose presence had defiled
their home; whose coming was
an outrage to friendship.
The memory burned. It was
a great scarlet wound that
spread until there was neither
fight nor pride left in Chickie's
thoughts. She saw herself as all
of them were seeing her.
Oh-she could hear Myra King
with the high color blazing in
her cheeks, her small eyes
squirting: hear Myra say: Can
you imagine 1t! Passing herself
off for one Of us! She was per.
fectly notorious-every one got
to know 1t. A child? Why-of
course. Died-that never was
cleared up-the whole thing q
mystery. All the papers had 1t.
Just fancy coming down here
and palming herself off the
way she did! Almost got away
away with it!
And Chiclie could see In her
tortured imagination the indignant
yet gloating eyes. hear the eager
questions.
when? Just imagine that!
Well-if 1t were years past, one
might understand! Did you ever
know Of anything so brazen?
Why. one would think butter
wouldn't melt in her mouth! 1t
wouldn't be so bad If she'd been
humble about 1t. but breeding
around pushing herself into
thingsw
There was no end to It. Her
thoughts found new terms for
the condemnation; brought new
images Of stained and brazen
thing before her until she grew
frightened and cowed at the
thought Of herself, until it SEEM
ed that going there. being what
she was, made her shame mon.
strous: made her utterly lost.
Never-she could never raise
her head again; never beat off
thC WCA6hl Va tAAlc JOu6 IlCuS. II
was a yoke. She grew limp
under its weight.
She dreamed Of Luis Lamarck,
awakened with a rude. ugly ter
ror: feeling the mans sleek
eyes going over her. She had
dreamed that as he placed his
hand on hers, Edith standing at
the car, called. Don't Luis!
Don't touch herr Luis had
smiled; his hand had felt along
Chickie's arm.
The next morning she had
scarcely strength to dress. She
sat at her window until noon:
leaving the bed unmade; her hair
uncombed. She was afraid to
think.
(TO Be Continued Tomorrow