Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-12-20
The Secret of
MARGARET YORKE
By Kathleen Norris

| terrupted. Now, with an angry CLINT in
the shrewd old gray eyes he turned to
| Shirley. Don't worry yourself to say
one more word on the subject, Mrs. The
obald," he said sternly. Mrs. Peters
and are warned, and thank you
kindly"
Shirley, smiling but scarlet, subsidized
and busted herself with her needlework,
tossing her head and slightly struggling
| her shoulders.
Silence reigned for a while in the
sunshine and quiet of the porch. Shir-
ley. deep in her being laughed con-
temptuously. The fight was not lost
yet. This old couple might begin to
think over what she had said, and to
worry about it, in spite of themselves.
| And for all I know" she reminded
herself, sit is true!" She presently got
up and Sauntered away In the sunshine,
and after a while Margaret came out
tousling Jim's wet, clipped little fair
head under big towel.
And as she sat down and turned her
| glowing, thin, beautiful face toward the
old couple she noted with surprise and
pleasure that their manner toward her
was more than ordinarily affectionate,
almost parental, and her bright color
rose and her own manner became its
sWeetest-grateful, responsive and happy
Stan, with a possible guest, was ex-
PONOCO III Ii WAS apOuJ
8 o'clock when Margaret, with Jim, wan
! dered out toward the front porch to
wait for him
| Shirley was lying down; Margaret sup
posed the old couple to be resting, too.
| Tony was coming up in the farm
wagon. He had had to make a special
trip into town today: Margaret could
see that he had mail; he always wedged
| letters Vlsibly into the upholstered seat.
| She took the letters from him with q
smile, running them through her brown
fingers. Peters, Peters, Crittenden, Crit
tenden, Crittenden. Something for
Shirley, forwarded from Burlingame,
newspaper for Stan. And. yes, tele-
gram for Miss Margaret Yorke.
She opened it slowly, and the bright
day flashed and shook, and her mouth
filled with salt water, and her hands
turney icy. Slowly the Keeling green
hills settled into place; this was Just the
familiar farm-tle barn roofs in sun
shine, the sheds and fences, and the
great trees in new foliage
MY God" she whispered. She put
the yellow paper back into its envelope,
| locked her hands in her lap and sat
back, trembling. her eyes closed, every
particle of color drained from her face.
Jim came over to her, touched her.
curious and family alarmed And sud-
denly she opened her eyes, strained her
young arms about the childs little body,
laid her ashen face against his bright
hair
My darling-my own boy" she said,
'Margar, 1 read the whole page, nine
words" Jim said, gently and anxiously.
Il read one word with seven letters
in it,"
She looked at him as if she did not
hear him, yet with painful intensity
1T was baskets, Jim further stated
expectantly.
"That is wonderful, my darling"
Margaret said then, not moving her
eyes. But when he had gone back to
his book, she opened the telegram
again, and spread it on her knee, and
read, over and over, the brief strange
words
Party in whom you are interested
died this morning, Roosevelt Hospital,
fully tomorrow. Arranging my AFFAIRS
to leave at once for California to pro-
tect your interests"
1t was signed merely with the let
ter ",rr"
The giddiness had passed, but Mar
garet felt dazed and weak.
1t was over: the bitter struggle that
had broken her heart, that had eaten
away six of the sweetest years of her
life, that had taught her to fear and
to hate.
He was dead: the man she had mar
ried on that bewildering and exciting
day six years ago. The man whose
incoherent words, whose thick breath.
whose insistent arms, had sickened her
again and again.
Margaret, here alone, in the peaceful
Spring afternoon on California farm.
leaned back in her chair and shut her
eyes. She would think no more. He was
dead. He had not known-how should
he?-what girls heart and soul could
be. She could forgive him now: he was
dead. The only person who shared with
her the memory of that terrible day
of the next day-and the next, was
dead
She read the telegram again. Died.
in Roosevelt Hospital this morning at
8:15. He had grinned at her timidity.
he had Knocked her, disbelieved her.
crashed through all the reserves of body
and soul-but he was dead now. The
recollection that still brought the hot
blood to her proud face, the recollection
of him laughing at her tears, the
memory of her own dazed senses, only
three days, four days, a wife, was strong
upon her IN this hour of release. The
bitterness of her own helplessness and
despair in those old days rushed over
her again.
Continued in Tomorrows star9