The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1925-08-17
CHAPTER LXxIV.
Two Men

ing hers; its pressure touched
her heart. He saw by the
pallor of her face that she was
overwrought; that she was not going
to speak, vet he said: You have not
told me the truth, Helena. Has any
fault been found with your work at
the hospital?'
''No-none-'
Something has happened, though.
Are you going to force me to believe
in your good reasons without telling
them?'
She set a Pickering smile against
his warm. insistent look: Yes
well you see, my dear friend David,
you have done so much for me al
ready-perhaps you don't know how
much. So you do this, too. Can't
you? 1t is the greatest kindness
you can do to met really is"
She sat with her hands clasped in
that attitude of sad, gentle acqui-
escence that had once so stirred the
hot, impetuous youth Of one man;
the warm exultant passions of an
other and now was waking to flame
the spirit of David Ramm.
He kept hold of her hands-he
kept looking at her face as though
there dwelt here before him a pallid
gold and white the spirit of beauty.
That image of her profile, palely
cut, went into his mind like an
etching.
1t was before him hat night when
he read the book and learned or
thought he learned why she cried.
She was once the girl, Eliza with the
transparent and beautiful dream of
love ineffably pure and enduring.
And she cried because her dream was
lost; so pitifully and irrevocably lost.
He could see her closed eyes with
the tears on her lashes. In this new
light he wondered about her and
about the man she had loved 1t
occurred to him sharply that she
might still love this man. Perhaps
this was the reason she wept, and
this was the reason she asked for
solitude.
The thought made him vaguely i'm
patient . and he wondered where
the man might be, what sort he was,
forsakine her SO. For it came to him
now with a certainty that Chickie
had given to this other in trust-so
the man was bound in any kind of
honor to marry her
a moment later he dismissed this
idea-killing to be doomed to a mar
riage of this kind-far better to be
deserted if the love had not en-
dured-
So she was not regretting the
man, but the lost ideals. This ex-
planned the poignant sadness often
on her mouth. Watching her now
he read into all her expressions this
wistful regret.
But it did not explain the sudden
and drastic decision she made. And
kept She was determined about II
and would not even ride win him.
He said to her: You're a foolish
little thing! Oh. you're a silly
little fanatic-aren't your"
She thought by this that he was
making very light of it and she was
oddly dismayed.
How long is the exile to last?"
She said with a studied f1ippance.
"Oh. this. you know, is the day of
indeterrninate sentences. So L can't
just tell"
But when a man is sentenced he
always knows for why. When am
I to be told the nature of my Of
fense?"
She colored so painfully that he
did not insist. He would wait his
time. He would learn-wen, he
wanted to know about her.
TIN manner. commonplace
enough. yet remarkable, the
facts he sought were given
him He was called out of town on
a consultation. And it happened
that the afternoon he was leaving
he met Chiclie at the hospital he
told her Of this.
The simple announcement came
with the force of, a blow She was
\ instantly confused and etamnered:
FOh-yes-are you? Will you be
gone long?"
Three of four days, perhaps. I've
arranged to look over some research
Of a classmate of mine. He's done
some good work"
She said family: THAT must be
DIR. Robert Emerson. isn't it?"
ssves-do V1o,, kro<r him 7''