The Argosy, August 1905 — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

es ee to isd any pr, least of all ‘silence of her endurance ike oul a Pe She turned instinctively to the end of the day for the opportunity for rest. When at last it came it brought Martin. She was sitting dully and listlessly im a window-seat piled high with languidly luxurious cyshions. The candles had been Ht, and in the cheerful halo that they cast no ghost " venture—there was no ghost for er Lloyd’s image was receding far into the dark and impenetrable background —she only felt the soreness of her own hurt—the consciousness of all that she had missed. As Martin entered she motioned him to his favorite easy-chair. Huis face was slightly graver, his eyes preoccupied. As he put away his hat and cane he looked over. “It’s good-by to-night, Elinor. I’m going away.” - “ Going away?” she faltered. “* Why, Martin—where? ” He drew off his gloves, smoothing out the barely perceptible creases. He was a methodic man. “Well,” he said, “I’m not exactly sure where I shall go. lt’s partly bustness—partly because I think it will be for the best. I thought of going out to Seattle—there are interests there somebody else might manage, but it’s as well to go oneself.” She sat in a strained silence, holding herself in check, not daring to think of what his absence would mean to her— for she knew now. Suddenly her nerves gave way—she leaned her head back, weak tears filling her eves. In a moment he was at her side. * Why, Elinor—why, my dear—what rs * She caught one of his hands im- pulsively in both of hers. “ Martin,” she sobbed; are you failing me, too?’ 2 He stood in a torture of absolute embarrassment, stroking her hand un- certainly. “You're nervous, little woman,” he said; “but you mustn’t say that—I’m ‘oh, Martin, “= ee a ' ie od re, d ‘ a ‘hy + es "s P % # * 3 “ ‘a v ed rc easy I TTATLAN L VV Ey. . << you, ok ake know how to be loyal in a jog-trot way!” She held to him tightly as to a long- lost hope. “Dont go,’ she said faintly. ¥ Don't go—it’s so terribly sad to be— alone.” He stood over her, his face falling into shadow. “My dear,” he said gently, “ there will be—others to fill my place—it’s such an unimportant one! ” Something in his voice sank mto her heart. She sat up, looking away from him. “Martin,” she said brokenly, ‘““Lioyd came last night—and I sent him— away.” In the hush that followed their eyes met. * Sent him rch * he asked stupidly. “T don’t—quite understand, Elinor.’ She stood up, still clinging to his hand. “I don’t myself,” she said wearily. “Tt was all wrong, somehow—he was different—we both were. There was that space between—I only realized it then—that one can never go back; one must go on forever! ” He looked at her steadily. “You told him to go?” he asked. “Loving him, you told him that he should go?” ‘“ Loving his memory,” she whispered. ““T wanted to keep it sacred—because he was dead—that was why.” Suddenly he understood. swept over his face. He trembled with a strange hope. “Thank God,” he said quietly; “thank God you found it out—in time!” She eyed him wistfully. * And you won’t go, Martin—now ? ” “Not if you want me tostay, Elinor.” Her lips crept into a faint smile—she wore the look of a child who had dried its tears. “Martin, I think I shall want you— always.” ** Wlinor! ” “Yes,” she said slowly, “ 1 mean just ‘In the silence that followed he peut down sad seared her. * A light. comicbooks.com