The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1938-04-22

forget that nightmare time when the
firm hand of an English doctor
thrust him unceremoniously from
the bare, white room which shell
tered Nora.
"Get outside and sit down, my
dear chap" he commanded brisk
ly. "She won't suffer any more"
He had a very English accent,
that doctor, which made Don won
der if the man were quite efficient!
There was a bench in the corridor
and he sank down on it, very weak
as to knees; wondering how long
this horrible business would 60 on;
why the universe had to be popu-
lated in such a manner; and what
for had they sent him out and let
Connie Venable stay inside?
And after an interval which
seemed hours, there came from be-
yond that door a cry like nothing
he had ever heard before, but Don
knew it instantly for the wall of his
first-born. 1t was then that all the
remaining strength went out of him,
and he wiped the sweat from his
forehead and said: ''Thank God it's
over!" But no one came from
Morals room except nurse. She
had a blanket-wrapped bundle in
her arms, and was hurrying so fast
she didn't see him; but when she
returned a minute later without
the bundle, Don caught her skirt,
and though his question wouldn't
seem to come, the girl appeared to
understand and told him hastily:
cts boy. A splendid little boy,
And with that "but" he was left
alone again. The door closed,
though during the moment it had
opened strong and sickish scent
of ether drifted out to him. It was
Constance Venable who came next
latter lifetime, it seemed to Don,
with that nurses ominous 'but"
still ringing in his ears); and with
one look into Comics face his
heart stopped beating. Literally.
He told Nora afterwards that he
died for minute. And then Con-
stance sat down and took his hand.
She said: you've a son, Don-a
beautiful little boy" and he broke
in harshly: "What do care about
son? What's happened to Nora?"
Constance was still stroking his
hand as he'd seen her stroke the
hands of her children when she
wished to calm them. She an
swered: mora will be all right,
Don. I don't care what they say,
she will be all right! There were
complications - something no one
had foreseen. Just at the last we
very nearly-lost her; but she will
be all right"
Then, after another aeon, the door
opened. It was the English doctor
the man with the accent. He
threw one significant glance at Con-
ME and laid his hand gently on
Don's shoulder.
"She needs you, old man." he
said-just that-but Don knew, and
Constance knew, what he was think
ing; and Connie still held Don's
hand when he crossed the thresh-
old of that quiet room.
He stood there looking down on
Nora, Nora as white as the bed
on which she lay-as white as mar
BILE. Her eyes were closed. Don
could not see her breathe. He won
dered And then the doctor
spoke, softly: "I'd take her hand,
my dear fellow, if I were you."
His voice, despite the accent
which had sounded so la-de-da an
hour before, was very kind. And
because no one had thought to bring
chair, Don dropped to his knees
beside the bed and took that white,
strangely transparent hand into his
own. He had forgotten the nurses,
the doctors, and Constance Vena-
BILE. He said ESQ Connie told him
later, "Come back, Nora. I can't
go on without you. Come back,
dearest :"
(TO BE CONTlNUED)