Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 142: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

132 bear the wounds to my pride before the world for little Ralph’s sake.” “How do you mean, dear?” “T told him finally that, rather than proclaim what sort of a man my little son’s father was, I would remain in his home—as the mother of his son.” “He wouldn’t accept that compro- mise, of course?” “Jim is ruthless, Mary; absolutely ruthless. I was standing there in our room, with the keys of my trunks in my hand—lI had been packing all night —when I made that offer for his boy’s sake. Darling baby was asleep there in his crib. Oh, if he had really adored his son as you seem to think! [I said: ‘I will stay for my boy’s father’s sake, and as his mother only.’ Jim started back from me and looked at me as if— he has frightened me with that look sometimes, Mary! He said: ‘That’s rather involved; but I think I get you!’ And he rang the bell, and when Sutton came he said: ‘Call an express for Mrs. Kerrall’s trunks! And he put on his hat and went out! And I—I came perce.” “Of course, dearest,” soothingly. “And now you want to turn me out!” “Helen, little sister, how can you say that to me?” “Oh, I know, I’ve been a caged storm in your home for a month. I’ve worn out your rugs pacing up and down, and stamping my feet on them. I’m nerv- ous, and irritable, and explosive, and very upsetting to cozy, serene folk like you and Will, who know how to smooth life over and make the best of things. But you didn’t know all that took place between me and Jim. So now I’ve told you. And—and °e Helen Kerrall’s tall, slender figure bent in a quiver of sobs like a young willow tree-in a sudden storm. She slid down at her sister’s feet, and buried her face in her lap, and cried passion- ately there. “What are we to do, baby and I, through all our long, long lifetimes— without Jim? Baby’ll grow up—gradu- ally, of course; there'll be play with other boys—and school—and—all the vigorous things that boys do; and he'll AINSLEE’S need his father. I won’t do instead. I’m only a woman. He'll need him more and more every year. and by he'll want to know what his father did to injure his mother so that she had to leave him, and divorce him. And he'll have a sorrow all ready made for him to bear. Jim doesn’t love Ralph; he doesn’t, or he would have accepted my offer to stay—gratefully, gladiy—for little Ralph’s sake. So that our baby could have his whole family complete, and grow up as we did, Mary, with mamma and daddy, both, to take care of us. He need never have known then that Jim and I were not happy together; or that I only lived with Jim for his sake. It would have looked all right. And you see, now, I can’t go back to Jim just for baby’s sake, as you have been advising, because he re- fuses to accept that arrangement.” Mrs. Walter stroked the blond, sob- tossed head on her knee in silence for a few moments. Then she said: “That was not exactly what I meant, little sister.” Helen Kerrall looked up excitedly at her sister with eyes amazed and angry, as well as tear-filled. “Mary! You don’t mean that you think I should go back and be Jim’s wife again!” ‘How much do you love little Ralph? Is not that the question for you to solve? Not how much or how little Jim cares for him?” “You know I love my baby better than my life. He’s everything to me; now more than ever, since Jim Mary interrupted her gently. “Jim would welcome any arrange- ‘ment for baby’s sake if it gave you back to him. Your first offer was not an easy one for a man to accept, my dear. Perhaps it was quite an impossible one.”’ “It would amount to forgiving Jim. He would see it in that light. And I don’t forgive him. I never can!” “Why not try to think about that side of it, too, a little?—forgiveness. I’m sure Jim’s offense could not have been so very flagrant, as such things go, or I, too, should have heard of it. A (C@ ANIC OOK And by’ (C@