The Washington times., 1932-12-05
CHAPTER 80


Passing down the corridor to
the room which had lately been
set aside for her own use as a
study, she went in to get some
books. The room, once a guest
chamber, was next door to her
mothers. AS she entered it she
heard sounds from the other
side of the wall-Quiet, hopeless
weeping.
Joyce's heart turned over.
Why? She was afflicted with
q sense of basic unfamiliarity,
she was a stranger in this house,
q stranger to the women with
whom she lived. Were they as
alien to one another as she to
them? Or did they meet on
some common and, she felt, in
imical, ground? That was the
thought to which she was be-
coming accustomed. Was the
mutual ground a battlefield, sod
den with secrets, with the she'd
ding of spiritual blood which
cried from the soil with an un-
vanquished voice?
She went to her mothers
door. hesitated and then, with
out knocking, entered, painfully
embarrassed but determined.
Elizabeth lay across her bed.
Her hands clutched at the
counterpane, her thin shoulders
were convulsed. She had not
heard Joyce's step, her own low
eobbing deafened her.
Joyce sat down on the bed,
touched her timidly.
Mother? What is it? Are
you ill?"
With, it seemed a superhuman
effort, the sobbing ceased. Eliz-
Abeth turned on her side, her
swollen eyes, redeemed, child
ishly pathetic, met her daugh-
ter's.
A Such a Coward!
dn't hear you-it's moth
L d1 4 miserable headache. I
ln pain" she exclaimed, try
ing TO smile. "It makes it worse
to ely about it, I know, but I'm
such a coward"
Joyce put her hand on the
hot forehead. Yes, there was
fever there. disturbance. It
might be true, then.
I'm so sorry. Can I get any
thing, any one?"
':No-thank you, dear"
Joyce rose, bent over her
mother, kissed her. AS she
turned to go, the slender arms
held her a prisoner.
"Joyce!"
Elizabeth had raised herself,
was sitting on the edge of the
bed, a disheveled creature, her
gentle, old-wordly charm blotted
out. She spoke hoarsely, yet
in the merest whisper.
Tell me. I'm your mother.
Do you love this boy, Joyce, do
you love him?"
Joyce looked down at the
strained face from which all re-
semblance to the woman she
knew had vanished. She slipped
from the relaxing arms until she
reached her knees, and so,
looked up, their positions re-
versed.
II think so. I'm not sure"
EliZabeth's hands, on the
girls shoulders now. frightened
and held, shook her, uncon-
Sciously.
"But-you understand, don't
you'll You must be sure!"
Howl"
Elizabeth drew back.
80 that nothing else mat
ters," she stammered, except
the man. Nothing in all the
world"
"Is it ever like that really?"
Joyce asked her. And if it is,
is it right that it should be so?
Nothing else mattering? But
other things must matter-ter-
ribly."
Just Passion
AS her mother was silent,
Joyce added, forgetting the
situation, thinking things out
courageously. Nothing else mat
tering-that's just passion, isn't
tt?"
AS if she had pronounced a
spell. the hands fell from her
shoulders, the tense figure
quieted and Elizabeth Sheldon
sat still, hushed, controlled.
Her face had yelled itself. She
spoke with a quick, harsh in
tensity.
'Is there anything else?"
Joyce rose, looked down.
THAT" she answered, sis
what I am going to find out"
AS if everything had been
said between them she passed
from the room, gravely, unhur-
ried. Elizabeth sat still, her
hands braced flat on the bed as
once, long years before, they
had been braced on a berth in
o ships cabin.
That is what I am going to
find out
Cold terror iced in her veins.
She felt as If she were dying.
She had not found out. Not she
X Il
Spring was late this year
reluctant, reticient, it tiptoed
through the city, laughed in the