Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1911-Jan 1912)

22 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE blade of his knife in the crack, and pulled the drawer out. He looked over a few bills, and, tossing them to one side, picked up a bundle neatly tied together. They were all made out to Mildred — of recent date — for large sums — and all receipted. These points stabbed into his consciousness as he ran thru the bills. He had not paid them; she could not pay them. Where did the money come from? A bewildering sense of submersion, of floundering and trying to rise to the surface for air, held him for a moment. Then, with a face tense and ghastly, he went to his wife's room. He wrenched open the door and stood on the threshold, glaring accusingly into her startled eyes. She arose from her place before the dressing-table. "Why, John!" she stammered, fearfully, "what is the matter?" He held out the bills. ' ' Who paid these?" Into her eyes there crept an expression of terror. "Where did you get them ? ■ ' she gasped. "Who paid them?" repeated John. Looking at him beseechingly, she cried : ' ' John, I borrowed the money. Dont be angry!" ' ' Angry ! " He laughed harshly. "Who is the man?" he flung at her brutally. She shrank from him, but he seized her wrist, compelling her to answer him. _ With an appeal in every syllable, she breathed: "I borrowed"; it""f rom , BMTSrd. " Upon the disclosure, he threw her from_ him and staggered from the room. She made a, move to follow; the door was slammed, in her face. She felt that it was the end of everything— her happiness had crumbled, and she had only her butterfly instinct to blame. She threw herself sobbing on the bed, and tortured herself the livelong night with self-censurings. The next morning, she crept timidly downstairs to the library. John was standing at the table look ing over the mail. "A«"she paused in the doorway, he said coldly, "Here is a letter from him. ' ' Mildred looked wonderingly from him to the letter in his extended hand, r "Formef she asked, incredulous. She took the letter reluctantly and opened it with trembling fingers. It required several readings for her dulled understanding to take* on an edge. The revelation bowed her head with the realization of her obtuseness. "Well, what is it?" inquired her husband, puzzled by her attitude. She held out the letter. He read : "My dear Mildred: I am going away. I never realized what a child you were, and how you loved your husband; and I know now I should not have lent you the money. "Forgive me, and let me call myself "Always your friend, "Richard Lee." A new light flashed into John's eyes, the harshness melted . from his features, and his voice was vibrant with love and contrition as he turned to his wife. "Mildred dear, will you ever forgive me?" She was not quite ready with her decision: her whole being had been too thoroly shaken up and desolated during the night thru his false suspicion for his suddenly restored sentiment to meet with a spontaneous response. While she hesitated, the children came bounding in and made the usual onslaughts on father and mother. Mildred looked down at them, then at John, and the faint dawning of a smile gave him hope. As the children charged into the breakfast-room, he drew Mildred to him. ''Mildred ! Wife !" he pleaded, with unutterable tenderness. Then the faintly dawning smile broke into the bright illumination that was one of Mildred's special charms, and what she might have said was smothered on John's shoulder.