Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1924-09-06

Alone in London
to be allowed to go alone, [ thought; and
she asked me if 1 could make a few in
quiries for her-about the list of passen-
gers. She wanted to know if her friends
were saved. l asked her to tell me their
names. First of all she said that a Mrs.
Nigel Bretherton was her friend, and after
wards she corrected herself, and said that
she was a Mrs. Robert Durham. 1 didn't
think much of it at the time-it was before
came into your office, sir-but afterwards
when there used to be letters and business
to do for Mr.. Bretherton here, it struck me
as being strange coincidence"
'Yes-and you never this lady
agan?"
Eyes, 1 did, and she told me that her
name was Mary Furnival. II went to see
her once" He looked apologetically at Da-
vid; perhaps he guessed something of the
true story. But afterwards she said she
going away to stay with friends for
time; she wouldn't let me know her ad-
dress, though I asked for it. But saw it
saw it quite by chance on label tied to
some Of her luggage.
He stopped once more Both men looked
UP eagerly.
David Bretherton spoke for the first
time.
"And what was the address,"
"The Red Grange, Selmont, shire
But-but that isn't ALL sir. There was
name above it, and the name was Mrs Nigel
Bretherton.''
Mary Furnival had never been so utterly
wretched in all her life as when she found
herself back in London once more and quite
alone.
When she woke the first morning in the
small, stuffy room which she had rented
from landlady of former days, she lay
still for a moment, listening to the rumble
of passing traffic with feeling of utter
forlornness.
1t was so different to the Red Grange.
She had only to shut her eyes to picture the
big, sunny bedroom, the dainty furniture
and rose curtains, the wide sweep of lawn
and garden outside the window.
Oh, to be back there again! To know
that when she opened her eyes she would
find that this last night had been nothing
but dream-a bad dream from which she
had Weakened forever!
But there the ugly little room with
its venetian blind in which several Iaths
were broken, the bright-coored oeographs
IN their cheap frames, the painted chest of
drawers and rickety washstand
This was her home now. She had only
been an interloper in that other. She had
never really had any right there 1t was
only what she deserved-to be turned out
of her paradise
She knew that she would have to look
out for work again at once. She had spent
most of that quarters small income on the
few things she had had to buy before If
tO
Work! Office work and drudgery! How
she had grown to hate the very sound of
1t in the past happy weeks!
But Mary was no weakling After the first
moment OF anguish she faced the future res
olutely. She had managed to keen herseIf
before. Well, she would do it again, The
only possible thing was to shut out the past
bolt and bar the door of her heart against
memory, and be prepared for whatever
might come.
She spent the first day tramping from Of
flee to office in search of work. but the re-
suit was discouragng. In spite of the war
and the consequent shortness of men, there
seemed no place for her. Many times her
name and address were taken.
We will let you know if we hear of any
thing"
The same old answer, the same old excuse
with which she had 50 often been put off
before.
she got back to her room at night tired
and dispirited. The day had seemed endless
Her feet ached with tramping the pavements
Surely it was only in a dream that she had
ever walked the velvety lawns Of the Red
Grange and driven with David
She had kept her thoughts resoluteIy from
him 50 far, but now, alone and wearied the
memory of him came surging back to her
How he must hate her now if he knew
everything. And, of course, he did know
Monty Fisher would have told him How
he must hate her!
She spread her arms the little round
table, and laid her head on* them.
The Red Grange! 1t sounded to her very
much as the name Fairyland must to a child
AS something wonderful and unreal, some
thing of which one only hears and never
dares hope to see.
And yet once she had been there Once,
for few short days, she had had her peep
at paradise. Nothing could take that from
her. She would always have the memory to
hug to her heart.
1t was on the second day that she met
Dora Fisher and she came back choking
and afraid. Something in the other girls
insolent beauty had set fire to the shuddering
jealousy in her heart.
David would marry DORA In spite Of all
he had said, she believed that he would.
Dora would go back to the Red Grange as
happy wife, whilst She Always the world
had turned cold shoulder to her-always
her place had been in the shadows.
She hardly gave serious thought to
Dora's last words. She did not really be-
lieve that David was thinking of Furnishing
her for what she had done
And, after all, what had she done? De-
Ceive him-yes But he was in no way the
loser for it, unless one counted the few
happy drives she had taken with him, the