The Desired Woman(Fiscle Part-3 Of 2) by Will N. Harben (e book reader pdf TXT) 📕

Your Old Jolly Self?"

He Shrank From Her Sensitively. "I Really Don't Like To Talk About

Such Things," He Faltered. "Tell Me About Your Marriage."

"Not Yet; One Thing At A Time." She Dropped Her Sunshade At Her Feet

And Locked Her White Hands Over Her Knee. "I Shall Never See You Again

After To-Day,  Dick,  And I _Do_ Want To Understand You A Little Better,

So That When I Look Back On Our Friendship You Won't Be Such A

Tantalizing Mystery. Dick,  You Never Loved Me; You Never Loved Your

Wife; But You _Have_ Loved Some One."

He Lowered His Startled Glance To The Ground. She Saw A Quiver Pass

Over Him And A Slow Flush Rise In His Face.

"What Are You Driving At?" He Suddenly Demanded. "All This Is Leading

Nowhere."

She Smiled In A Kindly,  Even Sympathetic Way. "It Can't Do Any Harm,

Dick,  For,  Really,  What I Have Found Out Has Made Me Sorry For You For

The First Time In My Life--Genuinely And Sincerely Sorry."

"What You Have Found Out?" He Faltered,  Half Fearfully.

"Yes,  And It Doesn't Matter How I Discovered It,  But I Did. I Happened

To Stay For A Week At A Little Hotel In Ridgeyille Last Month,  And A

Slight Thing I Picked Up About Your Stay Up There Five Years Ago

Gradually Led Me On To The Whole Thing. Dick,  I Saw Dolly Drake One

Day On One Of My Walks. One Look At Her And The Whole Thing Became

Plain. You Loved Her. You Came Back Here With The Intention Of

Marrying Her And Leading A Different Life. You Would Have Done It,

Too,  But For My Threats And Your Partial Engagement To Your Wife. You

Went Against Your True Self When You Married,  And You Have Never

Gotten Over It."

He Was Unable To Combat Her Assertions,  And Simply Sat In Silence,  An

Expression Of Keen Inner Pain Showing Itself In His Drawn Lips.

"See How Well I Have Read You!" She Sighed. "I Always Knew There Was

Something Unexplained. You Would Have Been More Congenial With Your

Wife But For That Experience. You Are To Blame For Her

Dissatisfaction.

Not Having Love From You,  She Is Leaning On The Love Of An Old

Sweetheart. Dick,  That Pretty Girl In The Mountains Would Have Made

You Happy. I Read The Article About Her In The Paper The Other Day.

From All Accounts,  She Is A Remarkable Woman,  And Genuine."

Mostyn Nodded. "She _Is_ Genuine," He Admitted. "Well,  Now You Know

The Truth. But All That Is Past And Gone. You Forget Something Else."

"No,  I Don't," She Took Him Up,  Confidently. "You Are Thinking Of Your

Boy."

Again He Nodded. "Love For A Woman Is One Thing,  Marie,  But The Love

For One's Own Child Passes Beyond Anything Else On Earth."

"Yes,  When The Child Is Loved As You Love Yours,  And When You Fancy

That He Is Being Neglected,  And That You Are Partly Responsible For

It. Oh,  Dick,  You And I Both Are Queer Mixtures! I May As Well Be

Frank. Your Struggles To Make Amends Have Had Their Effect On Me. For

A Long Time I Have Not Been Satisfied With Myself. I Used To Be Able

To Quiet My Conscience By Plunging Into Pleasure,  But The Old Things

No Longer Amuse. That Is Why I Am Turning Over A New Leaf. Dick,  The

Man I Am To Marry Knows My Life From Beginning To End. He Is A Good

Fellow--A Stranger Here,  And Well-To-Do. My Brother Sent Him To Me

With A Letter Of Introduction. He Has Had Trouble. He Was Suspected Of

Serious Defalcation,  And The Citizens Of His Native Town Turned

Against Him. All His Old Ties Are Cut. He Likes Me,  And I Like Him. I

Shall Make Him A True Wife,  And He Knows It. I Am Going To My Brother

In Texas And Will Be Married Out There. Dick,  I Shall,  Perhaps,  Never

See You Again,  But,  Frankly,  I Shall Not Care. I Want To Forget You As

Completely As You Will Forget Me. I Only Wish I Were Leaving You In A

Happier Frame Of Mind. You Are Miserable,  Dick,  And You Are So

Constituted That You Can't Throw It Off."

"No,  I Can't Throw It Off!" His Voice Was Low And Husky. "I Won't

Mince Words About It. Marie,  I Am In Hell. I Know How Men Feel Who

Kill Themselves. But I Shall Not Do That."

"No,  That Would Do No Good,  Dick. I Have Faced That Proposition

Several Times,  And Conquered It. The Only Thing To Do Is To Hope--And,

Dick,  I Sometimes Think There Is Something--A _Little_ Something,  You

Know--In Praying. I Believe There Is A God Over Us--A God Of _Some_

Sort,  Who Loves Even The Wrong-Doers He Has Created And Listens To

Their Cries For Help Now And Then. But I Don't Know; Half The Time I

Doubt Everything. There Is One Thing Certain. The Humdrum Church-

People,  Whom We Used To Laugh At For Their Long Faces And Childish

Faith,  Have The Best Of The Game Of Life In The Long Run. They Have--

They Really Have."

He Tried To Blend His Cold Smile With Hers,  But Failed. He Stood Up,

And,  Extending His Hand,  He Aided Her To Rise. "This Is Good-By,  Then,

Forever," He Said. "Marie,  I Think _You_ Are Going To Be Happy."

"I Don't Know,  But I Am Going To Try At Least For Contentment," She

Said,  Simply. "There Is Always Hope,  And You May See Some Way Out Of

Your Troubles."

Quite In Silence They Walked Back To The Cottage Gate,  And There,  With

A Hand-Shake That Was All But Awkward,  They Parted. He Tipped His Hat

Formally As He Turned Away. Ahead Of Him Lay The City,  A Dun Stretch

Of Roofs And Walls,  With Here And There A Splotch Of Green Beneath A

Blue Sky Strewn With Snowy Clouds.

He Had Gone Only A Few Paces When He Heard The Whirring Sound Of An

Automobile,  Which Was Approaching From The Direction Of The City. It

Was Driven By A Single Occupant. It Was Andrew Buckton. Mostyn Saw The

Expression Of Exultant Surprise That He Swept From Him To Marie,  And

Knew By Buckton's Raised Hat That He Had Seen Them Together. The Car

Sped On And Vanished Amid The Trees At The End Of The Road. Looking

Back,  Mostyn Saw That Marie Was Lingering At The Gate. He Knew From

The Regretful Look In Her Face That She Was Deploring The Incident;

But,  Simply Raising His Hat Again,  He Strode On.

All The Remainder Of The Morning He Worked At His Desk. He Tried To

Make Himself Feel That,  Now That Marie Was Leaving,  His Future Would

Be Less Clouded; But With All The Effort Made,  He Could Not Shake Off

A Certain Clinging Sense Of Approaching Disaster. Was He Afraid That

Buckton Would Gossip About What He Had Just Seen,  And That The Public

Would Brand Him Afresh With The Discarded Habits Of The Past? He Could

Not Have Answered The Question. He Was Sure Of Nothing. He Lunched At

His Club,  Smoked A Dismal Cigar With Delbridge And Some Other Men,  And

Heard Them Chatting About The Rise And Fall Of Stocks As If They And

He Were In A Turbulent Dream. They Appeared As Marvels To Him In Their

Unstumbling Blindness Under The Overbrooding Horrors Of Life,  In Their

Ignorance Of The Dark,  Psychic Current Against Which He Alone Was

Battling.

All The Afternoon He Toiled At The Bank,  And At Dusk He Walked Home.

No One Was About The Front Of The House,  And He Went Up To His Room.

He Had Bathed His Face And Hands,  Changed His Suit,  And Was About To

Descend The Stairs When His Father-In-Law Came Tottering Along The

Corridor And Paused At The Open Door Of The Room.

"This Is A Pretty Come-Off," He Scowled In At Mostyn. "Here You Come

Like This As If Nothing Out Of The Way Had Happened,  When Your Wife

Has Packed Up And Gone Off For Another Trip. She Said She Was Going To

Write You--Did You Get A Note?"

"No; Where Has She Gone?" Mostyn Inquired. "She Didn't Even Mention It

To Me."

"One Of Her Sudden Notions. The Hardys At Knoxville Are Having A Big

House-Party,  And Wrote Her To Come. I Tried To Get Her To Listen To

Reason,  But She Wouldn't Hear A Word. She Is Actually Crazy For

Excitement--Women All Get That Way If You Give Them Plenty Of Rein,

And Irene Has Been Spoiled To Death. I Have Never Seen Her Act As

Strange As She Did To-Day. She Cried When I Talked To Her,  And Almost

Went Into Hysterics. She Gave The Servants A Lot Of Her Clothes,  And

Kept Coming To Me And Throwing Her Arms Around Me And Telling Me To

Forgive Her For This And That Thing I Forgot Long Ago. When She

Started For The Train I Wanted To Go With Her Or Telephone You,  But

She Wouldn't Let Me Do Either--Said I Was Too Feeble,  And She Did Not

Want To Bother You. Say,  Do You Know I'm To Blame? I Had No Right To

Influence You And Her To Marry,  Nohow. You Have Never Suited Each

Other--You Don't Act Like Man And Wife. You Might As Well Be Two

Strangers Hitched Together. Something Is Wrong,  Awfully Wrong,  But I

Can't Tell What It Is."

Mostyn Made No Reply. He Heard Little Dick's Voice In The Hall Below,

And Had A Sudden Impulse To Take Him Up. Leaving Him,  Old Mitchell

Passed On To His Own Room,  And Mostyn Went Down The Stairs To The

Child,  Who Was Playing On The Veranda.

"Poor Child! Poor Child!" He Said To Himself.