San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1924-04-27

she would ever be able to get those
words out of her ,brain-her heart.
Nigel was dead; the brief chapter
of his life was written and finished
A kindly comrade had sent back his
few little possessions; they still lay
on the table in the pretty drawing
room across the hall--a few letters,
a pocket-case, broken pipe.
A clock on the shelf struck eight.
| Mary sat up in bed, and looked
through the window at the drenched,
weeping world. ~
Someone tapped softly on her door.
She reused herself.
The little maidservant entered.
.'Oh, please, miss, the mistress is
not in her ROOM"
Mary smiled involuntarily.
81 expect she is in the dining
room-or she may have got up early
and gone out"
But. oh, please, miss. her bed
hasn't been slept in; it's all just as /
turned it down last night"
For a moment Mary sat very still,
then she threw back the bedclothes.
She put on her dressing gown and
crossed the narrow hall to the open
door of Dolly's room.
|. She looked round the room with
dread in her eyes.
1t was quite tidy. Nothing had
been disturbed, but on the mantel-
shelf-she felt suddenly weak, as if
she must fall. for there, propped up
aainst the clock, was q letter, d.
rected in Dolly's flourishing hand.
MARY
Her own name stared at her across
the gray light of the room: she went
over and took it down with a shak-
ing hand.
From the doorway the little maid
watched her with scared eyes.
She broke the seal, and read the
first few lines-there was no begin
ming.
Il know you will hate and despise
me for what / am going to do, but /
can't see that it matters.
Nobody cares what becomes of me
except Robert, and he has. always
loved me. He is going to leave Eng
land today, and l am going with him.
| ought to have married him instead
of Nigel. We shall be married in
London this morning.
You can tell people what you like.
Goodby, and thank you for all your
kindness to me. l suppose ] haven't
deserved it. DOLLY.
up. s.: You may have everything
have left. The furniture is good
sell it if you don't want it."
The voice of the little maid reused
Mary from the depths of horror into
which she seemed to have fallen.
She brushed her hand across her
eyes; she tried to force herself to
speak. even to smile.
"It's ala right-Mrs. Bretherton
has gone away. She-she couldn't
bear to stay here now-now-" She
broke off,
Presently she went back TO her
own room. She dressed mechanically i
her brain left numbed and dead; shel
wanted to think-to act. but she could
not force herself.
She went to breakfast, and forced
herself to eat. Her one great aim was
to prevent people knowing the truth
to save his memory-the memory of
the man she had loved.
Later in the morning she forced
herself to tell the little maid co,
herent story-that Dolly had gone
abroad to try and forget, her loss and
sorrow; that they would hear from
her soon that she-Mary-was short
ly going out to be with her.
The day passed like dream. She
was afraid to go outside the flat; she
was sure that if she met anyone she
knew her face would give away the
secret she was so jealousy determined
TO guard. In the evening she sat alone
and listened to the angry sting of the
rain on the windows.
1t was past 8 o'clock when someone
rang the door bell.
Mary sat listening with strained at
tention.
rs Mrs. Bretherton at homer"
Mary had never heard the voice.
She rose to her feet with a sense of
coming disaster, and walked to the
door.
A tall man stood in the narrow hall.
He wore a thick travelling coat, the
shoulders of which cleaned wetly in
the hall light. Across the dividing