White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1935-08-15

bottom he was braggart-small, cow
ardly, purposeless-a ship without q
rudder.
Endowed with good looks and a
devil-may-care charm, he had called
her his star and pleaded his need Of
her, and she had mistaken pity for
love and believed that to help guide
his houndering craft into port was a
heaven-sent mission.
Alas, she had over-e estimated both
her own power and his sincerity. ia
son had no real desire to alter his
conduct. Instead, day by day he
slipped lower and lower and, unable
to aid him or prevent disaster, she had
been forced to look on.
Her love for him was dead, and her
self-conceit was dealt huuniliating
blow.
Sometimes she reproached herself
for the tragedy and, scrutinizing the
past, wondered whether she might not
have prevented it. Had she done her
full part; been as patient, sympa-
thetic, understanding as she ought to
have been? Did his defeat lie at her
door?
With the honesty characteristic of
her, she could not see that it did. She
might, no doubt, have played her role
better. One always could if given a
second chance. Nevertheless she had
tried, tried with every ounce of strength
in her-tried and failed!
Well, it was too late for regrets now
Such reflections belonged to the past
and she must put them behind her as
useless, morbid distractions. Her back
was set against the twilight; she was
facing the dawn-the dawn with its
promise of happier things.
She had paid for her folly-f in
deed folly it had been. Now with
optimism and courage she looked fear
lessly forward. That was why, as she
caught up her hat, a smile curled her
lips.
The house did look pretty, the day
was glorious. She was a-tingle with
eagerness to see what it might bring.
Calling Prince Hal, she stood before
him.
''Take good care of the house, old
man." she admonished, as she patted
his silky head. "I'll be home soon"
Obeying her he lay down with paws
extended, the keeper of the Home
stead.
While she paced the platform at
Sawyer Falls, the nearest station, Mar
cha fidgeted. She had never seen any
Of Jason's family. At first desultory
correspondence had taken place be-
tween him and his sister, Margaret;
then gradually it had died natural
death-the result, no doubt, of his in
dolence and neglect. When the let
tiers ceased coming, Marcia had let
matters take their course.
She had written Margaret a short
note after his death and had received
a reply expressing such genuine grief
it had more than ever convinced her
that her course had been the wise and
generous one. What troubled her most
in the letter had been it's outpouring
Of sympathy for herself. She detested
subterfuge and as she read sentence
after sentence, which should have
meant so much and in reality meant
so little, the knowledge that she had
not been entirely frank had brought
with it an uncomfortable sense of
guilt. 1t was not what she had said but
~, L. i
her.
Marcia Howe was no masquerader,
and until this moment the hypocrisy
she had practiced had demanded no
sustained acting. Little by little, more
over, the pricking of her conscience
had been forgotten. Miles of distance,
years of silence separated her from
Jason's relatives and it had been easy
to allow the deceit, if deceit it had
been, to stand.
But now those barriers were to be