Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

THE CHILD cision. Mary thought she looked like some lovely suffering saint from an old church fresco, as she stood in the door- way, her lips drooping a little, her blue eyes paled of their fire by tears and resignation. “Mary,” she said gently, “I have sent Martin with a note to Jim. I am going back this evening. I know now that | am doing right to go, so it won’t be too hard.” “I believe your decision is a wise one, dear,” Mary answered, and kissed her. Being, above all things, tactful, she said no more. Helen had completed her packing long before Martin returned. Her maid was laying out her cloak and hat when the old servant tapped on her door. “You have been ages, Martin.” “Yes, Miss Helen. Mr. Kerrall was a long time r’adin’ the letter, Miss Helen; and askin’ me questions about you and little Master Ralph.” Helen extended her hand for Jim’s note. “The answer, Martin?” “Oh, Mr. Kerrall said there was no answer. Is that all, Miss Helen?’ “That’s all,” Helen answered mechan- ically; and Martin departed. “No answer.” Helen sat down weakly on the edge of the bed. What did.Jim mean? She asked this question finally of Mary, who stood over her with smelling salts, alarmed by her pallor. “You see, you see,’ she muttered; “he cares nothing for the child; no more than for me. ‘No answer,’ when I told him I was coming back to him, in spite of everything, for his child’s sake! His child, as well as mine!” “Yes, dear, you just told him you were coming, so there was no answer required, really. He took you at your word, and is waiting at home for you. Why not telephone and . “No! Ive endured enough! humbled myself enough!” “Let me. For Ralph’s sake, dear. We must not let. foolish misunder- standing make a failure now. Let me I’ve 135 telephone and just ask him if he is expecting you.” 3 ax To this Helen gave tacit consent. She was bewildered by the torrent of emo- tions and fears which had broken upon her when Martin had said ‘‘No answer,” and could no longer guide her way. Mary returned joyfully. “It’s precisely as I thought, dear! He is expecting you, he says.”’ “Then I suppose we'd better go at once,’ Helen replied automatically. “Jim doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” As she kissed her sister farewell, she said: “It’s terribly hard, Mary. But you think I’m doing the right thing, don’t you?” “I’m sure of it, little sister.” Sutton, Jim’s manservant, met her in the hall. “There's a gentleman to see Mr. Ker- rall on business, ma’am; it may be twenty minutes or more. They are in the library. There’s a nice fire in the morning room.” “Then I’ll go in there and wait for Mr. Kerrall. But baby is so sleepy, Lucy,” she said to the nurse, “that I think you must take him up to bed.” “Just as you say, ma’am!” The old nurse carried the little peace- maker upstairs. It seemed a century to Helen Kerrall before the door opened and Jim Ker- rall entered. She had already decided what she would say to him the mo- ment he appeared. Her eyes met his vivid light-gray ones with their per- ceptive, dominating gaze, and she was silent. He looked about swiftly; a strange light came into his face. “You came alone?” he asked briefly. “Ralph is upstairs in bed,” she an- swered; her voice was tremulous. “Oh!” The strange light faded. He crossed the room and stood by the grate, opposite to her. She found herself asking vaguely what made him look so different from the Jim she had seen in her thoughts during the past month; and concluded that the change she noted must be due to the fact that it was no longer her lover, but just the father of her child, whom she saw. Jim Kerrall gave the impression of a COL G OOK (C@