The Key West citizen. [volume] (Key West, Fla.) 1879-current, 1936-09-02

"Of course not"
"Well, then, give 'em credit for
the same amount of sense. Quit
stewing."
Christmas day was crisp and
clear. Milly had hoped to the last
that there would be a furry Of snow.
but Pat discouraged her.
Sugar. there never is. Don't get
your hopes up"
When the packages had been
opened and admired the inevitable
sense of fairness and reaction set.
tied over them. Pat jumped up.
Lets go play nine holes of golf
before the callers begin to descend"
They went gladly. to escape the
realization that something had gone
out of the day and the season. That
was the worst of Christmas, Carol
thought: you counted so heavily on
it, and then after all it was just an.
other day.
And she was crowding back into
her heart the thought that so far
there had been no word from Denis:
not even a Christmas card. Don had
very automatically sent flowers to
her and Jill and candy to Milly. but
Denis was silent. Silly Of her to
mind, because he'd said he hated it,
and yet -.
The course was rough and heavy,
but the golf was only a pretext so
they waded gaily through nine holes,
and came home wet and cold and
pleasantly tired, to a huge Christ
mas dinner. At .half.past two the
callers began to arrive, and the last
round departed at midnight. When
they had gone the Torrances went
gladly to bed. One more bead. Carol
thought sleepily, had slipped of the
string.
Two days later a package arrived
from Denis, accompanied by a
scrawled note. Carol read the note
first.
Sweet, I'm sgrovelling. I went
out with a col pie of fellows two
nights before christmas and got
gutter gutter; drunk, mainly to drown the
gia and l was in Washington. 1t
took me two days to sober up
enough to remember where I'd put
this.
"This" was a beautiful copy or
South Wind" signed and num-
bered. with card: "For Carol who
deserves the world with a fence"
But don't want the world with
fence. she thought YEARLY: want
very small corner. with Denis in
it. and I'll never have it. Even IL
Denis were there he wouldn't stay
put.
She tore up the card and the note,
and tossed the book on the table,
where Pat found 1t in the evening.
He picked it up carefully, his eyes
shining, Say. this Is beautiful" He
glanced inquiringly at her and she
at was late because he got gut.
ter drunk"
The light in Pats eyes faded.
well. Christmas usually calls for
celebration, doesn't it?" he asked
carelessly.
COMETHING, Carol realized in the
- remaining days of her vacation,
had also gone out Of Meredith--or
of her relation to Meredith. There
hadn't been time in the rush of
Christmas preparation tc think of
it. but now the knowledge followed
her doggedly.
don't actually belong here any
longer. she realized. and was faced
with another more terrifying fact:
and God knows I don't belong in
ASHORE! By her own act she was
without a country.
She dared. before she left, to
break through Jill's reserve and dis
cuss Don with her. Jill was flushed
and uncomfortable at first, but her
sisters casual air disarmed her.
Being the sort you are" Carol
said calmly. you've probably got
quixotic notion that Don still be-
longs to me. even though he OBJ
viously doesn't want to. That's fool.
ish: IL I'D wanted Don | wouldn't
be teaching in ASHORE. He's your
type and not mine. anyhow-and
that's compliment to both Of you.
You'll make swell pair. and raise
a lot If healthy. intelligent children,
and justify your existence. | wish !
could say much for myself"
Jilfs voice was shaken. That's
rot. You've got divine discomfort:
it's your sort that blazes trails for
my sort to follow"
She laughed harshly. "Not l. I'll
zigzag all my life"
For the rest she spent her time
with Milly: driving her on errands,
playing bridge and golf with her.
talking endlesslg Of pleasant. unim.
portant things.
She took a train on Sunday after.
noon. and the scene of four months
ago was re-enacted, except that, for
herself. 1t was no longer a voyage
of discovery. When the train had
pulled out she turned her face to the
quickening landscape and closed her
eyes against scorching tears.
Copyright. 1885. by Marian SinasJ