The Argosy, August 1905 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

ate * ae oe THE ARGOSY. She smiled, but her lips were trem- bling. All the difference in the world!” He felt almost as if he had been in the confessional. He looked at her a moment without speaking, then he rose, taking up his hat and cane. — His eyes were a trifle strained, and there were lines about his mouth, but he spoke indifferently. “There’s going to be a meet at Med- wood Tuesday. Would you care to go?” She hesitated. Her voice softened. “ Tuesday,” she said, “ Lloyd comes.” She went on hurriedly: “ The steamer gets in at noon, and ” she stopped constrainedly. He held out his hand. “T know,” he said. “Don’t trouble to explain. JTll drop in, if I may, to- morrow—just to indorse the bond.” And he smiled. She was leaning back against the doorway, looking away from him. “ Martin,” she said, “I want you to keep coming, just the same—always.” His face flushed. “T’ll come to-morrow,” he said evasively; “after that—‘the deluge.’ ” He moved out into the hallway, where he paused. “ Elinor, are you quite sure of—your- self?” She looked up. ““ Quite sure.” “And of him—I mean of what he is?” She smiled. “Big men are only boys grown up, Martin; to know Lloyd once would be to know him forever. There—don’t let’s talk about it any more. I can’t ask you to be glad, but I ask you not to be sorry about my gladness.” He pressed her hand reassuringly. * No,” he said, “I can*t quite be ‘glad, can I? The under dog, you know—but if you are, I can be—well, fet’s call it content. ‘There, good-by; I must hurry along.? She turned to him impulsively. “Marti, there’ll be somebody better 17? than I, some day.” host of a smile curved his lips. i re?” he said. “You were se ‘oe es 4 But as he left her she knew that tothe — endhis home would be desolate unless she filled it. She went back into the empty room. The darkness had fallen quickly, yet she lit the lamp lingeringly-—she had dwelt so long in shadows. She drew_up a low chair and sat with her arms across the table, thinking. Perhaps not thinking so much as re- membering. She remembered those early days of Lloyd’s devotion and the future that was to be all mist and moon- - shine; and then she had gone abroad for two years with her invalid mother, and come back alone to find him bound to another.. He had accused her of forgetting, and told her that because of it he hadn’t cared much what might happen, and so he had married a girl from the West. That first interview afterward had been painful—she closed her eyes even now. She remembered that she had had the strength to cut short his protes- tations, to keep her eyes dry, and her heart in the iron grasp of reason; but somehow he had left her with the im- pression that he still cared—desperately —and that things must go on so till the end. She had felt quite limp and nerveless alterward—there had been seyeral un- avoidable meetings, once at a dinner, once during a week-end visit, and two simple notes from her, requesting the return of her letters. Then came the blind jealousy of his wife, and after that a long gap—a blank of six years—if years could be blank that were filled with such conscious sulfering of remembrance! Through it all, Martin, who knew, had been the one calming influence- He had helped her to catch up the broken threads of her torn existence, but the warp and woof of her fabrie had still been cba SS gray. <A friend can move mountains, bu dead sea! & : ~~ i And so the years had slipped by. As she Pecutee them nae ay a sudden unreasoning fear—h : e light of her eyes, the hair? Would he tage Tne > he - comicbooks.com