Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 194, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 August 1913 — MARRIED LIFE, SECOND YEAR [ARTICLE]

MARRIED LIFE, SECOND YEAR

HELEN SLOWLY DREW out her Iml pins and laid them on the dreaaec before her. Although she was gazing Into the mirror, she hardly saw hex reflection. ’ How could Warren have spoken to her like that? How needless to humiliate her before the Stevenses. She was running one of the hat pin* through the hemstitched edge of ths bureau cover, as she went over every Incident of the drive. Jftst because she had screamed when those dogs had darted almost under the car! How could she have helped it? And yet It had made him furious and he had flared out at her before them all. “Shrieked like a Comanche Indian,” was one of the things he had said. Her Ups quivered as she remembered Mrs. Stevens’s look of surprise at Warren's anger, then her kindly effort to put her at ease by claiming that any exhibition of nerves always made a man angry. And then they had stopped at that roadhouse, and Warren had hardly spoken to her, and had shown Ms displeasure by ignoring her in the most pointed way all through the evening. And when they reached the hotel he had helped her out and left her standing there on the gravel path while he called out: ■"Stevens, don't you want another smoke before you go to bed?" For a moment she stood waiting, thinking of course he would go with her up the steps; but he had deliberately walked off with Mr. Stevens and left her standing there. And she had made her way up to their room with a burning sense of Indignation.And now she realised that she had not even taken off her hat She drew out the hatpin she had so carefully woven into the bureau scarf and reached up to unfasten her veil. The door opened and Warren entered. Helen did not turn but their eyes met in the mirror. His were still hard and angry. "What on earth have you been doing? You haven’t got your hat off yet I thought you’d be in bed by this time.” He took off his coat and drew up a chair to the open window, put his feet on the sill and lit a cigar. Helen laid her hat on the shelf of the narrow closet, folded up her veil and started to put it in the top bureau drawer. But it was a cheap oak dresser, the kind prevalent in Summer hotels, and the varnish had stuck and now the drawer refused to open. She could put the veil somewhere else, it was not necessary to open that drawer just then. But she dreaded the long sullen silence which she felt Warren was falling Into, so she asked quietly: ..“Warren, can you open this drawer for me? It Is stuck somewhere.” Without answering he lowered his feet, put his cigar on the window sill, and came over and jerked at the drawer. But it obstinately refused to open. Again he tried, but still without success. With the third effort one of the cheap brass handles came off in his hand. With a muttered oath he fastened back the handle and tried again. Eeverything on the bureau swayed perilously. "Oh, wait—-wait!” Helen caught a powder box as it was sliding off. ‘‘Don’t —you'll knock everything ot|bt!” But unheeding Warren gave another vicious jerk and a bottle of toilet water came crashing over on a band mirror, breaking the mirror and spilling most of its contents. As the bottle tottered, with a scream Helen had darted forward to catch it. “That’s right, scream some more! You’re doing well for one night” And with a final jerk which sent the brushes and other things sliding to the floor, the drawer came open. Warren stalked back to the window and resumed his chair and his cigar, while Helen gathered up the wreckAge, She was fiercely indignant now. Not because ot the broken mirror, but because of his renewed anger that she had screamed again. At this time she would make do effort to appease Mm. If he cared to be sullen- and silent the rest of the night, she would not humllate herself by making any farmer overture* She wished now* that they were at home. However Mjt and stifling their apartment was—at leant she had ths refuge of her own room. But here they had only this one small hotel room. She turned out the lights after slipping into bed, and only the faint reflection from the lights on the porch below lit the room. Warren wna still sitting before the window, his feet on the ledge and his cigar glowing In the seml-darkness. She knew be would not speak to her again, that when ha finished his cigar he would get out of Ms clothe* and into bed, still in the same obstinate ML enee. And this would be the first time since their return that they had gon* to sleep with any bitterness between them. But it was not her place to make the overture* now—she had not been In the wrong. He bad no right to be displeased with her for something she could not help. The sound of a scratching match. So be was going to smoke still another cigar. If she could only go to Sleep and forget it aIL But she know bow impossible that would be. And then from the porch below oame the plaintive note* of a mandolin. The air was "Oh, Promise Me." And then with a few tentative chords came "In the Glnamlng ’’ Helen brushed away some teCHL on the face-frilled sleeve of her night gown. Oh, If they wouldn't play that, —lt always malted her to tenderne**, She looked longingly over at Warren. The glowing cigar Mt up th* aide of his tace and M* whtteohirted arm. He was gazing straight ahead of Mm out of the window. Perhap* hq was sorry—perhaps h* wanted to speak to herl But it wan alwayw m hard for Mm to make a cooosmdoM Perhapa be was hoping now to* would oome over to him—petostp* that was Why he had Bt anoOter otosr- £.