The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1928-10-20
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represented the rooms expensive
furnishings seemed to vanish. 1t
was wartime again, and she was in
France.
The rain was falling drearily on
the matched roof of a shabby inn
on the outskirts of a little village.
Gathered about table, in a room
lighted by guttering candles, was
a group of men and girls wearing
muddy uniforms.
The room reeked with the stuffy
scent of wet clothing, and cigaret
smoke hung like a Sullen cloud
above the long table that was spread
with a supper of ragout of beef,
bread, cheese and vim du pays. But
there was champagne, too, golden
and sparkling, in the thick, none
too-clean glasses. There was cham
payne to toast the bride-to-be!
Lila was the bride-to-be!
The morrow was to be her we'd
ding day, and the party tonight was
in celebration of the great event.
Jack Farquahar's brother officers
were hosts.
Lila, who had been transferred to
France and was driving an ambu-
lance in the war-zone as coolly as
she had driven her car through the
streets of New York, had invited
several girls of her division to be
present.
The supper was rather impromptu
there was to have been a more
formal dinner the next day, after
the wedding, but, with the darkness
and its accompanying storm, had
come a message from headquarters,
ominouS as the night itself.
Several regiments were moving UP
and some of Jack Farquahars
brother officers would not be there
on the morrow; hence the hasty
gathering.
Lucky chap!" they said to Far
quahar. while we are in the
trenches, you will be honeymooning.
Well, boys, here's to our bride"
Lila heard one of the girls be-
side her whisper:
O6aC1!
She shuddered. She knew the
sector to which these gay laughing
men were going. 1t was a death
trap.
There were rumors that her am
bulance corps was moving up very
shortly. But there was time yet,
time to live for a little, and to love.
She remembered how handsome
Jack Farquahar had looked that
night. Reckless, laughing, the gay.
est of the gay. She remembered the
flash of his gray eyes, the grace of
his 1.-THE body, the debonair, jaunti-
ness of him, for all his worn, wet
uniform and muddy boots.
She could almost feel the warm,
first clasp of his hand. 1t sent
thrill through her to remember that.
She felt disloyal to Herbert and
put the memory from her.
But there was no forgetting the
denouement of that evening. Jack
was on his feet to reply to a toast.
She could see his face in the flicker
ing light of the candles.
For an instant, it wasn't laugh
ing. There was reckless challenge
in his manner, but his voice, quiet
and steady, out through the silence
and held them speeches.. NFor he
said, looking at her:
Lila, will you drink this toast
with me, not a toast, but as a
pledge? Will you stand here, with
your hand in mine, and swear before
these good and true friends of ours
that, when this war Is over, you
will marry me; that you will keep
yourself for me, no matter what
transpireS, NO matter what time in
terveneS, no matter what circun-
stances separate us2"
II 4
I'm the silence that followed the
Il officers and the girls stared at
one another. The Pickering light