"Do you suppose she's seen him?"

"She was in David's room. She must have."

Mindful of Mike, they withdrew into Lucy's sitting-room and closed the

door, there to surmise and to wonder. Did he know she was engaged to

Wallie Sayre? Would she break her engagement now or not? Did Dick for a

moment think that he could do as he had done, go away and jilt a girl,

and come back to be received as though nothing had happened? Because, if

he did...

To Dick Elizabeth's greeting had been a distinct shock. He had not known

just what he had expected; certainly he had not hoped to pick things up

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where he had dropped them. But there was a hard friendliness in it that

was like a slap in the face. He had meant at least to fight to win back

with her, but he saw now that there would not even be a fight. She was

not angry or hurt. The barrier was more hopeless than that.

David, watching him, waited until Harrison had gone, and went directly

to the subject.

"Have you ever stopped to think what these last months have meant to

Elizabeth? Her own worries, and always this infernal town, talking,

talking. The child's pride's been hurt, as well as her heart."

"I thought I'd better not go into that until after--until later,"

he explained. "The other thing was wrong. I knew it the moment I saw

Beverly and I didn't go back again. What was the use? But--you saw her

face, David. I think she doesn't even care enough to hate me."

"She's cared enough to engage herself to Wallace Sayre!"

After one astounded glance Dick laughed bitterly.

"That looks as though she cared!" he said. He had gone very white. After

a time, as David sat silent and thoughtful, he said: "After all, what

right had I to expect anything else? When you think that, a few days

ago, I was actually shaken at the thought of seeing another woman, you

can hardly blame her."

"She waited a long time."

Later Dick made what was a difficult confession under the circumstances.

"I know now--I think I knew all along, but the other thing was like that

craving for liquor I told you about--I know now that she has always

been the one woman. You'll understand that, perhaps, but she wouldn't.

I would crawl on my knees to make her believe it, but it's too late.

Everything's too late," he added.

Before the hour for the services he went in again and sat by Lucy's bed,

but she who had given him wise counsel so many times before lay in her

majestic peace, surrounded by flowers and infinitely removed. Yet she

gave him something. Something of her own peace. Once more, as on the

night she had stood at the kitchen door and watched him disappear in the

darkness, there came the tug of the old familiar things, the home sense.

Not only David now, but the house. The faded carpet on the stairs, the

old self-rocker Lucy had loved, the creaking faucets in the bathroom,

Mike and Minnie, the laboratory,--united in their shabby strength, they

were home to him. They had come back, never to be lost again. Home.




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