Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-01-12

easy, Missile, but I'm counting on you
You have plenty Of spirit. You are not
Stella Colfax's daughter for nothing"
Eddie went back at the end OF six
weeks, went rebellious and protesting
After Eddie had gone she went IN 70
see Wesley She sat down beside the
bed He was not asleep. He lay there
staring up, a shrunken, lonely inquire
She was not even certain that ne
realized she was there.
Are you comfortable, Wes?"
He nodded slightly.
You know that Eddie's gone? He
came In, but you were sleeping"
She had leaned toward him. and now
she saw that he was grasping with his
one good hand. He moved it slowly,
painfully, until 1t touched her shoulder.
Then he patted her. Her throat
frightened. She caught the wavering
hand and held it between both Of hers.
1--WE are seeing this out together,
Wes," she said huskily.
One day that spring Missile heard
J from Eileen that Eleanor Phelps had
borne a child, a daughter. She realized
then how complete was the break be-
tween Kirby and herself. A man
might marry a woman while carrying
another image in his heart, but when
that woman became the mother of his
child the image faded. She felt that
this was tragic matter for her, the
sort of thing at which the gods
| laughed, but when that afternoon while
Wesley slept she got out an old pic
/ ture Of Kirby and looked at it she
was shocked to find that it aroused in
her no emotion whatever; that this
man, between whom and herself there
had been a basic attraction so strong
that she had wrecked her life for him,
was now nothing to her. She saw no
irony in that, however, no mockery.
Tout passe, as Eileen would say.
Eileen had picked up bit of French.
But she had no time for brooding;
the problem of Wesley began to obseSs
her. There was no resignation in him.
He would lie for hours, brooding, and
she wondered If his mind was affected.
But by spring he was better, mentally
and physically. He was still irritable
and somewhat sullen, but he was GER
tainly sane, and he was able to be
moved into a wheeled chair.
She was able to write to Eddie:
"Father is really wonderful. He was
not quite normal when you were here.
but he is so much better. He is even
and he is learning to write with his
left hand. He feels that the war may
go on for a long time. He has so
many friends, all clamoring to see him
and hope they can soon. He is much
more patient and"
Patient! Wesley!
He was increasingly dependent on
her, hated to have her out of his sight,
and in return for that dependence she
she thought, as they sat together shut
in that room, that they were like two
derelicts. flung together by chance and
clinging each to the other in a sort Of
desperate loneliness.
One day he found that he had some
motion in the right leg. The arm had
been improving for some time. There
was strange look in his face when
he told her.
Have you ever faced the fact, Missile,
that I may get well AGAIN."
II pray for it every night" she said
simply.
He looked at her.
why? You never cared about me-"
ST could have cared, Yves. could
have loved you very dearly. But you
didn't want me to-"
And now you're only sorry for mel"
She considered that.
NO" she told him honestly. ct do
love you, Yves. think there is a kind
Of devotion that comes to people who
are together for long time. Devotion
and tenderness. Even If things had
been all right between us, think per-
| haps that is where we would be now"
She felt that he had something to
say to that that with this new hope
Of recovery he wanted to reassure her,
| to promise her a better life and a
happier one. But he had never learned
| to put his tenderness into words. His
| passions, yes; his tenderness, no.
One evening she read to him for an
hour or so after he had been put to bed.
| She did not think he was listening,
| but she knew that the sound of her
voice soothed him. When at last she
closed the book he reached out his hand
to hers and carried it to his lips.
you have been q saint from heaven
added softly, MY girl My dear girl
They were the last words he ever
spoke. He had another brain hemor-
rhage in the night. and two days later
he died without recovering conscious
ness.
She sent every one away that night
and sat with him. He looked young
again and very peaceful. She did not
cry. She sat quietly beside the bed
her hands in her lap, and watched
him.
Where was he? Alone in some outer
darkness, frightened, waiting for a
light? Confused, perhaps, not real
izing what had happened to him. Per-
haps not even very far away. She
looked around the room. Suppose he
was there, wanting help, needing re-
assurance, depending on her still?
She spoke, not TO the bed, but to the
room.
1T will be all right soon, Wes," she
said. Just little while now and you'll
be all right. And I'm standing by,
dear" And after minute she added
that, my dear, wherever you are"
I Suddenly she was stricken with grief
for him, for herself. They had come
was the GROWING irony of her life that
now she could grieve for him. ono
more she. did not see it so. She wepi
for their lost years, for pity, for DESC
lation; that life should separate people
and only death unite them. His sins
against her she forgave freely. They
seemed unimportant now. The weak.
nesses of the body, the sins of the flesh
they were, seen in the light Of the spirit
as it came from God so it went back t.
God, clean.
Toward morning she heard Eddie
sobbing, and went In TO him.
Why should you cry, Eddie darling
He Is SO well and strong now, so-likt
himself"
HE was such man, mother"
Better than ever Not burdened will
his body, that's ALL"