Evening star., 1939-02-05


belonged to another Kind friends often
pointed it out to her.
Don't suppose they said, cruelty, you
are Blairs real love. -"
She never supposed it. Even on their brief
honeymoon he had sometimes stirred in her
arms. growing restless, and his eyes would
get that faraway look she knew only too we'll
She was small, pretty woman with bright
hair, straight little nose and dark eyes. Like
an intelligent mouse. Blair sometimes called
her Mouse When she married him she told
herself, bravely. that her love would win.
When she had him to herself, he would forget
his other one.
He would stir in her arms. murmuring
strange names. He would shout in his sleep.
in an alien tongue. As if all that were not bad
enough. what must he do but buy house
where Kate could never quite get away from
her rival but must watch her daily, and hear
her. sleeping and waking. For the little red
brick house with one bulgy window and one
fiat window stood right at the edge of the
never silent moody and tickle ocean that was
Captain Blair Connel's other love.
And the ocean behaved to Kate just as a
spiteul rival might. Sometimes pebbles were
heaved at her window. Once her gate was
shattered. Sand dunes were deposited from
time to time in the small front garden. where
Kate had planted bulbs in an effort to have it
gay when Blair came home.
Worst of ALL she saw Bair's ship sail past
the window every time he left Liverpool. Her
rival bore him off upon her bosom. while Kate
shed tears behind the window curtains.
why are you crying. Mother" asked
Daphne aged seven.
Because your father is off with his old
love again, my pet.
Blair was sweet when he came home. so
passionate and loving Was it because they
saw so little of one another, that love was
always new Because they always kissed. as
it were. on the brink of a parting
For two days - three days - perhaps
week. he would be happy and at peace with
her He would laugh about the little red brick
house and play with his children.
Then he would grow restless. He would
listen to the voice of the wind in the chimney,
as if it said special things to him, bringing
messages from the other side Of the world
that she did not get Then she knew that even
when his head lay heavy on her shoulder he
was half world away from her already.
Sometimes she suffered tortures of jealousy.
She went to see him off and read the names of
distinguished people who sat at his table. She
got gmIses of beautiful women who would
be constantly with him. How could they help
falling in love with him. the grand handsome
man that he was,
All that had been long ago. when they were
still Young Now his hair was grizzed about
the ears and the door of middle age stood
aJar. waiting for Kate. Once she had cheered
herself up with the thought that when he got
older he would come home Then at last they
would be together. But that happy day
seemed as distant as ever it had been.
About this time she had come across a
poem of kiplngs:
What is woman that you forsake her
And the hearth fire and the home acre
To go with the old gray widow maker
Why are YOU crying, Mumme:' asked
Dickie aged six.
Because your father loves someone better
than he does me-
rs she prettier than you"
She kissed him. Am pretty. my pet"
He looked at her with the candid air of one
surveying building site. Not very he
said. but you have useful sort of face.