The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1930-07-25

last night. The doctor thinks she will,
| and so does Doctor Grey. He's with
| her now. But / don't see how she
can survive that struggle. But one
| thing is settled for us, for ever" He
| pulled her tear-wet face up from his
| knee, and looked at her with blazing
eyes. "You and / will have to be
enough. No child is worth such en-
| guish. No life is worth-death. No
children-for u.s.
She hid her face against him. Her
arms held him close.
II don't care, If only you will love
me-"
He pressed her to him but his eyes
had flown to the windows Of the hos
pital, and she felt a tremor pass
through his big frame.
Ernestine stayed in the hospital I'M
til the baby was month old. Will
borrowed the money from Mr.. Poole
and paid the hospital bill, paid the
nurse and the two doctors, the day
she was to be discharged. Loring pro-
tested in vain. The removal to the
expensive private hospital had been
his suggestion-it was he who got the
nurse, who got the two doctors; he
had planned to meet all these ex-
penses. But Will was deaf to him.
He was going to pay Ernestines hos
pital bill, he declared, if he had to rob
bank. What business was it Of Lor-
ing's? 1t was Wills wife-Will's child.
Legally the debt was Todd's. There
was nothing that could be done about
it, but the argument increased the bad
blood between the men. Ernestine
wanted to go to her own home, she told
Lillian. Mamma was hurrying back
from Europe. The house at the lake
was closed. Lillian demonstrated with
Ernestine's determination to go back
to the house out in Mayfair.
"But what will you do?" she asked,
and her face grew red. "Will isn't
even working"
"Yes, am" said Will. II started
today. Mr.. Poole is going to open an
Independent studio, and l am going to
work for him. He's got hold Of the
copyrights to his old strip and we are
going to syndicate it ourselves. 1t
will bring us in a lot of money. I'm
to get fifty dollars week to begin
with and Wen be all right"
Lillian's dismay was increased, not
diminished, by this news. The COM
bination of Will and Mr.. Poole was
worse than nothing, it appeared to her.
II don't know what mamma will
say" she protested feebly, but neither
Ernestine nor Will seemed to be
moved by that.
1t was wonderful day when Ernes-
tine went home. All the way home in
| the taxi Will held the baby in one arm
and Ernestine in the other, and his
| face was shining with joy when at
| last they stood in their little kitchen,
she weak and trembling in his arms.
He was starved for her, but he kissed
her gently, got the rocker and filled
it with cushions and placed it by the
open kitchen door. She sat there and
watched him prepare supper.
"Will," she said, when they had
eaten, and he had closed the door
against the fall dusk, you're like you
used to be. You're like you were that
day We met upon the street, when I
first fell in love with you. Tell me,
what is it,"
"The new job, guess. I'm crazy
about it, Ernestine. In the first place,
to be working again is good-and to
be working for John Poole.-And then,
Ernestine, I think we're going to do
it, believe we'll make a success
big one."
His enthusiasm was boundless.
While he washed the dishes he talked
to her, and then they put the chill
dren to bed, and he drew Ernestine
onto his knees.
"Tell me, Ernestine-it was an I'M
godly business-but you aren't sorry,
are you? Now that you're both home
again-you're glad we've got her
aren't you?"
They sat looking at the baby. Will
pressed his cheek against Ernestine's
| shoulder.
'Tell me-" he implored her.
Ernestine understood his need for
assurance. He was still suffering from
| the humiliation Lillian and Loring had
heaped on him.
"They said-I shouldn't have al
| lowed-allowed," he exclaimed sharply
at the word. Il never thought
| about it."
"We're married, aren't we?" asked
Ernestine, and as his bright look ques-
toned her she shook her head little.
THAT'S ALL" she said. THAT'S the
answer. I'm your wife-I love you-of
course I'm glad"
He kissed her passionately. It
seemed so long since she had been in
his arms like this-clOse, close.
"Oh, Ernestine," he said, II don't
| deserve you. The future is uncertain.
But If ever a wife deserved a good
husband, you do. But, sweetheart, it's
hard. it's been harder for you than
| for me; don't think I don't know it.