The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1936-12-04

Ill V1EkLl1d 1cT1u1lC Val
The winter dragged itself away. In
late February David appeared so thin
and worn that the family physician
suggested his going to Atlantic City for
"Of course he must CO." Grace told
the doctor.
David looked at her in surprise. But,
dear, you will be lonely without me-"
Her great eyes widened. why" she
said, you were not thinking of going
alone, David. were you? We will 60
together, of course"
But I had not thought of that" DR..
Lincoln said slowly. Il doubt if you
are equal to the trip, Mrs. Howell"
"Of course I am equal to the trip!"
Grace declared. g! certainly would not
added defiantly, "he would not want to
go without me, DR.. Lincoln"
The doctor smiled sympathetically.
We'll, suppose we wait a few days and
see how you both feel about it." he
suggested.
David followed him to the front
door. The physician spoke gravely. II
am sorry that you cannot get away
alone, but your wifeis travelling is out
Of the question. Frankly, Mr.. Howell,
I am not satisfied with her condition.
She may get along all right-but she
must keep quiet for the next two
months. I see no reason for immediate
alarm, but I cannot allow her to make
such an effort as even a short trip
would entail. I wish, however, that you
could go away for a few days."
David tried to smile. II would not
think of leaving her." he said. I shall
be all right"
When he returned to the living room
Grace glanced up suspiciously. What
was the doctor saying to you?" she
questioned. WAS he trying to persuade
you to go away without me?"
HE was telling me that you ought
not to exert yourself to go anywhere,
and I was telling him that I would not
go unless you went with me-"
She smiled with satisfaction. II am
glad you told him that" she approved.
David had a sensation of mental as
phyxiation. Not only was he bound to
this pathetic creature by the silken
cords of her love and by pity for her,
but also by remors because he did not
love her.
However, pity car be a convincing
substitute for love. And it gives one
keenness of vision. So when, one eve
ming, Grace remarked that she might
ask Mary Dallas to come and sit with
her the next afternoon David agreed
that it would be a good idea. But he
called up Mary the following morning
from his office and asked her at what
time she was going to leave his house
to return to her home. Grace would be
unhappy if her cousin were present
when her husband arrived. But he
did not suggest this to Mary.
"You see," he said instead, "Grace
Is especially sensitive and nervous now,
and I think it is better that she sees
only one of us at a time. So I would
rather not arrive until you have left"
II understand" Mary answered calm
ly. IT shall plan to leave her at half
past five"
1t was as if he and Mary had a
secret between them, the man unused,
morosely. Yet Grace had had a
secret from him.
with all her j~ealousies and her sus-
picions, she has always been more hon.
est than l." he reflected. II have lived
a lie to her. It has been to spare her
pain. But she could not tell a lie,
much less live one, to me. I must try
to seem to be what she wants me to be
land I shall! be sure not to see Mary
this evening""
He need not have made any plans
AOf t1le cVSAll1S. rOT IIldG 1lOOl LIE re-
ceived q hurried telephone summons.
Grace had been taken suddenly i'll.
The doctor met David in the hall as
he reached his home.
"She has had a convulsion," he said
briefly. II have been afraid of that. I
have sent for a nurse"
David steadied his voice to ask, us
she suffering?"
The doctor shook his head. mo. She
Is unconscious"
The physician might think her I'M
conscious, the husband reflected as he
sat by her bed. But when he took her
hand her fingers closed on his and
held them fast until the nurse I'M
clasped them.
Grace Howell died at midnight. Not
until then did David leave her side.
"A devoted husband" unused the
nurse looking with compassion at his
bowed figure as he left the room.
David had been at Atlantic City for
a fortnight when he got a letter from
Mary Dallas. He had spoken to her for
a moment on the day of the funeral.
She had held out her hand with the
gaze he had seen twice before in her
steady eyes.