Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

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The Miracle of Life (MUTUAL) By Charles Edward Rich It was on a dance floor that he first noticed it — her strange manner and mental attitude toward him. There was something wrong, he knew that, but what was it? She saw, after that night, the seriousness of it all — the importance of the miracle of life. Everything after that hinged on a little bottle containing a black fluid — the demon of her existence. What that bottle meant to her, and to him, is the theme of this story based on the photo play of the Mutual Film Corporation. In the cast were: Grace Catherwood Marguerita Fisher John Catherwood Joseph E. Singleton JOHN CATHERWOOD suddenly felt J his young wife struggle gently in his arms. They were dancing to the dreamy strains' of her favorite waltz, and he was holding her close in his great joy of possession that had grown and grown with each day of the few months of their happy married life. "Are you ill, Grace, dear?" he asked anxiously, looking tenderly into her eyes. The light that he saw there startled him, for deep down in their brown depths he seemed to read an expression of revulsion — seemed to see a flash of horror ! And at the same time he felt that she was striving to free herself from his close embrace. The large, brilliantly lighted ballroom was crowded with dancers — richly dressed women, and conventionally clad men, all friends of the Catherwoods. who were the guests of honor at the first big ball given since the young couple had returned from their long bridal tour in Europe. Gravely puzzled, Catherwood guided his wife skillfully across the crowded floor, and led her into the conversatory that at the moment happened to be empty, save for a single pair of youthful lovers among the palms at the farther end. "What is the matter, Grace?" asked Catherwood, as she sank onto a rustic bench dejectedly, her head drooping, and her hands clasped on her bosom. "Do you feel faint? The rooms are stifling. Let me get you a glass of wine." "No, no," she cried impatiently. "It is nothing. It will pass shortly. Take home, please." As she spoke she raised her eyes to his for a moment, and he saw that the shadows in them were darkening. Making their excuses to their hostess. Catherwood got his wife quietly into their carriage, and they were driven rapidly home. At the door of her apartments he would have taken her in his arms, but she held him away from her, and turned away her head so that his lips only brushed her forehead. And as her eyes met his for a second he shuddered. For in that single flash he saw that they were full of tears — but they were tears of anger, abhorrence, hate ! When Grace Catherwood had been daintily groomed for the night, she dismissed her maid with outward calm, but when she had closed and locked the door of her room she threw herself upon her bed, sobbing bitterly. "Oh, why has this thing come upon me?" she wailed. "I shall die! Oh, I hate him — I hate him !" She buried her face in the pillows in the utter abandonment of passionate grief, and tore the scented lace with convulsive hands. So it was that this young wife welcomed the Heaven-sent sign that a new life was to be given unto her keeping. And in the library below, a man to whom the tidings would have brought great joy, paced the long room in an agony of mental torture. It was the first time since their wedding day that he had read anything but the deepest love and affection in the eyes of his wife. And now had come this awful awakening! Awakening to what? The cloud had come as suddenly as comes the terrible simoom! What did it mean? He swiftly reviewed his own life, his every action, his most vagrant thougl and he could find nothing for which li could blame himself — nothing in thoug or deed that could account for his wife strange mood. And thus acquitting himself, his woi der and grief grew. On the morrow 1 would learn. She must explain hi strange actions. But in the morning she refused to s< him. To his knock the maid responde opening the door but a crack. "Madame was indisposed, and woul breakfast in her room. Would moi sieur kindly excuse madame? No, si", would not have a doctor. She woul soon be better." And so Catherwood had gone awa; leaving the house in an unenviabl frame of mind, for even his great lov for his young wife could not entire! dispel a rising cloud of anger. When he left the house his wife wa watching him from behind the curtain of her boudoir, and the evil shadow ha grown deeper in the soft, brown eyes. As Catherwood entered his automc bile, and was driven rapidly away, sli turned feverishly to her maid. "Quick, Marie!" she cried. "Dres me ! My dark walking suit and sma' black hat!" Half an hour later Grace Catherwooc heavily veiled, stepped into her electri coupe, accompanied by her maid, an shortly afterward she entered th boudoir of a very fat and benevolent looking old lady in a very much be flowered morning robe, and threw her self sobbing onto her capacious bosom. "There, there, Grace, child." cried tb stout lady. "Whatever is the matter my love,"