Part 54 (1/2)

Then her lip trembled, and to the older sister's consternation she began to cry, with her s.h.i.+ning head laid on her arms. ”I don't know w-w-what to do, Sally!” she sobbed. ”I don't know what is right! I know I'm desperately tired of worrying and fretting and being criticised! I don't see why it should be my life that is always being upset and disorganized, while other women go on placidly having children and giving dinners!”

”Perhaps because you are so different from other? women?” Sally suggested, somewhat timidly. She was not sure that Martie would like this.

But Martie gave her a grateful glance, and immediately dried her eyes with a brisk evidence of returning self-control.

”Well!” she said sensibly. ”It is that way, anyhow, and I have to make the best of it. I married foolishly, in some ways, and I paid the price--n.o.body knows what it was! Then I came back here, and had really worked out a happy life for myself, when Cliff came along, and no sooner was I adjusted to Cliff--to the thought of marriage again, when John upset it all!”

”The happiness of the woman who marries Cliff ought to be pretty safe,”

offered Sally.

”Yes, I know it. But Sally,” Martie said, looking at her sister questioningly, ”sometimes I feel that I don't dare risk it! I can't marry John, but I can't seem to--to let him go, either. I know what madness that visit was, and yet--and yet every minute that we were together was like--I don't know--like swimming in a sea of gold! I didn't know what I wore or ate in those days! Pa and Lyd--other people didn't seem to exist! I never believed before that any one could feel as strange--as bewildered and excited and happy--as I did then. It was like being hungry and satisfied at the same time. It was just like being under a spell! His voice, Sally, and the way he speaks of men and books--so surely, and yet in that boyish way--and his hands, and the way he smiles through his lashes--I can't forget one instant of it! We got breakfast together; I can't go into the kitchen now without remembering it, and longing to have him there again, whipping eggs and hunting about for the b.u.t.ter, while all the time we were laughing and talking so wonderfully! It's that--loving that way, that makes life worth while, Sally. Nothing else counts! Nothing that we did together seemed insignificant, and nothing that I do without him is worth while--I can't--can't--can't let him go!”

Sally was frightened as her sister's head went down again. She could think of nothing to say. ”I can't help thinking that our life would be that,” Martie went on presently, raising her sombre face to rest it on one hand, her elbows propped on the table. ”Everything would be wonderful, just because we love each other so! He writes, and I would write----”

”Feeling as you do,” Sally said after a troubled silence, ”I would really say that you oughtn't to marry any one else, Mart. But even if Cliff gave you up, how could you marry a divorced man?”

”Oh, Sally--don't keep reiterating that it's impossible!” Martie said with a flash of impatience. ”I know it--I know it--but that doesn't make it any easier to bear! You women who have so much can't realize----”

”You have Teddy,” Sally suggested, in the silence.

”Yes, I have Teddy--G.o.d bless him!” his mother said, with a sudden tender smile. And she seemed to see a line of little Teddies, playing with Grandma Curley's spools, glancing fearfully at the ”Cold Lairs,”

walking st.u.r.dily beside Margar's shabby coach, chattering to a quiet, black-clad mother on the overland train. She had her gallant, gay little Teddy still. ”I don't know why I talk so recklessly, Sally,” she said sensibly. ”It's only that I am so worried--and troubled. I don't know what I ought to do! Suppose I tell Cliff frankly, and we break the engagement? Then John will come back, and there'll be all that to go over and over!”

”But that's--just selfishness,” said Sally, spreading a checked blue towel neatly over her pan of dough, and adding last touches to the now orderly kitchen.

”Oh, men are all selfis.h.!.+” Martie conceded. ”Every one's selfis.h.!.+ Cliff quite placidly broke Lydia's heart years ago; Rose and Rodney between them nearly broke mine. But now Cliff wants something from me, and Rose realizes that she has something to gain, and it's roses, roses all the way.”

”Well, that's life, Mart,” submitted the older sister.

”If I had it all to do over again,” Martie mused, ”I wouldn't come back after Wallace's death. Teddy and I could have made our way comfortably in New York. By coming, I have more or less obliged myself to accept the Monroe point of view----”

”Oh, but Mart, we've had such wonderful times together, and it means so much to me to have you like Joe and the children!” said Sally.

”Yes,” Martie's arm went about her sister, ”that's been the one definite gain, Sally, to see you so happy and prosperous, and to realize that life is going so pleasantly for you. As the years go by, Joe'll gain steadily; he's that sort; and Dr. Hawkes's children won't have to envy any children in Monroe. But, oh, Sis--if I could get away!”

The old cry, Sally thought, as she anxiously studied the beautiful, discontented face.

Presently Clifford came, to take his future wife home, and Joe came back from the hospital in the Ford, and there was much friendly talk and laughter. But Sally watched her sister a little wistfully that evening; didn't Martie think this was all pleasant--all worth while?

CHAPTER VII

Rose's little daughter, p.a.w.n that she was in the game of Martie's fortunes, was pushed into play the following day. For Rose telephoned Martie at the Library, in the foggy early morning, that Doris was not well: there was a rather suspicious rash on the baby's chest, and if it really were measles, there must be no announcement luncheon to-day.

Martie had been eagerly awaiting that luncheon, when a dozen of the prominent young matrons of Monroe should learn of her engagement. She put up the telephone thoughtfully. Another delay. Another respite, when she might still say to herself over and over: ”I COULD end it now. It isn't too late yet!”

In her hand to-day was a brief note brought to land by the tender of the Nippon Maru. Dean Silver and John had duly sailed, they were far out on the ocean now. That was settled. Now there was nothing to do but go on serenely with her interrupted plans.

And yet the restless excitement caused by his coming was still about her, she could not make herself forget. Everything that his odd and vibrant personality had touched was changed to her. The wallflowers he had twisted unseeingly in his nervous fingers, the kitchen where their eager, ardent talk had gone on over the boiling of coffee and the mixing of m.u.f.fins, the hill they had climbed in gray, warm moonlight, these things belonged to him now. Martie touched the books he had praised tenderly, hearing his words again.