The guardian. [volume] (Boston, Mass.) 1901-1960, 1940-02-24
Thank You.
Ny Friend
By MARTHA K. DAVIS
Mcclure Syndicate-WNU Service.)

we are having the rector and
his wife for dinner"
1 doubtless looked my disappoint-
ment.
Stranded for a few hours in a
western city, I had happily bumped
into an old college chum, Jerry Bos-
worth, whom 1 hadn't seen in years.
OF course nothing would do but l
must go to his home for dinner.
Judy will be mighty glad to see
you," he said heartily, and remem-
bering pretty Judith Bosworth, ex-
perienced pleasurable anticipation
at the thought of meeting her again.
1t will have to be eat and run, "
said. "My train leaves at eight
forty and simply have to make it."
found Judith charming as ever
and the thought of a few hours
visit with these old friends was de-
cidely gratifying.
Nowhere was my hostess an
nouncing the impending arrival of
boresome rector and his probably
equally boresome wife.
Its a perfect shame it happens
this way" deplored Judith, "but you
will enjoy meeting Nancy Rathburn,
Tom. She isn't the ordinary rec
tors wife at all. She is the most
fascinating, interesting, delightful
woman! Everyone adores her. How
she ever happened to marry George
Rathburn-! Really, l do not be-
heve she could stand him if it
weren't for her little periods of es-
cape. Every spring she spends a
couple of months abroad. She comes
back more beautiful than ever, fair
ly aglow with enthusiasm, and
plunges heart and soul into parish
work. The things that woman ac-
complishes! Why-last winter" but
Judith's dissertation was interrupted
by the arrival of her guests.
The Reverend George Rathburn
was all that my hostess had inn
piled. Pompous-conceited
giant! But for all his buster, he
quickly faded into insignifcance.
Beautiful, quiet, poised Nancy
Rathburn! The way she moved-her
voice-no, the secret lay in that ex-
preston in her eyes. What were
those fathomless, dreamy eyes see
ing? Surely not her pragmatical lit
tie husband, or anyone or anything
IN Judlth's cozy apartment.
was glad to be placed beside
her at the table, but the smallness
of the party forbade any intimate
conversation.
1t was during the salad course that
noticed the ring on the third finger
OF her right hand. A flower cluster
OF diamonds embedded in black
onyx, surrounded by wreath of dull
gold.
was a fool for speaking.
"Your ring, Mrs. Rathburn-may
look at it? It reminds me of a ring
a comrade of mine in the war"
Nancy Rathburn's white hand
clenched.
"Ah-show him your ring, my
dear" broke in the rector. "Per-
haps he can tell you something about
it. You see, Mr.. Neeland, my wife
picked up that ring at some pawn
shop over in London. 1t has some
kind OF insignia woven in the wreath.
Guess some of the nobility got hard
up, but they'd have a difficult time
trying to buy it back" He guffawed
loudly. "Mrs. Rathburn thinks more
of that ring than all the rest of her
jeWelry put together. Sort of tails
man, you know. Show it to him,
Nancy"
took in mine the hand she slowly
extended. The fingers were like ice.
And as looked down, l saw again
a trench-a khaki-clad man, whim-
steal, gay, untouched by fear-heed-
less-cynical. what does it mat
ter, old man? Nothing can happen
to me. It's all happened. You know
one of those arranged affairs. She
doesn't give a damn whether or not
I'm hit by bloomin' shell. But there
is girl, Tommy ladl Oh, we'll
she's tied as tight as l."
There was a small piece Clipped
from the onyx.
l remembered about that. 'By
Jove-if hadn't put up my hand,
Tommy! Trust the House of Gar
land to jolly well protect its sons
of war!"
And then-convalescing in a hos
pital. Young Lord Garland-Dicky
Garland calling frantically for
"Nanniel Nannie!"
Later-a firm hand-clasp. This
ring cutting into my flesh Good
by, Tommy, old man! Jolly luckl
Take good care of yourself"
l looked up. Nancy Rathburn's
eyes were enormous and her under
lip was caught tight between her
teeth. She was holding her breath.
l said, "No, the ring this remind
ed me of was-quite different. In
fact, on close inspection, this is not
like it at ALL"
had to leave directly after din
ner. Nancy Rathburn stood beside
her husband. AS l shook hands with
her conventionally, 1 caught faint
little whisper-"Thank you, my
friend"