OCR Interpretation


The day book. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, July 03, 1915, NOON EDITION, Image 22

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1915-07-03/ed-1/seq-22/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for

ry?77???vmmwfApwM
CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
matiidp l5 NFVFR A COMFORTER
(Copyright, 1915, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association.)
"Margie, dearest. I've come to take
you for a ride," said Dick, as he bent
to kiss me. Before I-answered I felt
a vague surprise go through me that
I had not the slightest thrill at Dick's
kiss. Some way every bit of feeling
seems to have been taken out of me.
I seem numb mentally and physically.
I do not care whether anyone comes
to see me, not even Dick. I don't
want to talk I don't want to think.
I just want to be let alone.
"I don't believe I want to go, Dick,"
I said.
"Don't you feel well enough to
go?" he asked.
"I don't know I guess I am feeling
all right."
I could see that my absolute in
difference was hurting Dick, but for
the life of me I could not care about
anything. Then, through my be
numbed brain there floated a few
lines from Mrs. Browning:
"Dead dead, did you say?
Have they taken my boy away?
God give me strength to pray."
I must have said it out loud, for I
caught Dick's horrified expression. It
almost made me smile. "No, Dick, I
am not insane and I don't think I am
going crazy, but those words of Mrs.
Browning flitted through my brain
and I guess I unconsciouslysaid them,
but, Dick, I don't want to pray. Pray
ers are unavailing; they did not save
-my beautiful boy for me."
"Oh, Margie, Margie, can't you re
concile yourself to the loss of our
baby? Don't you care anything for
me anymore? Come on out motor
ing. Harry has sent over one of his
cars and told me to tell you that you
must regard it and the chauffeur as
yours until you are thoroughly well.
You must use it every day."
"That is kind of Harry," and again
I had a feeling of surprise that I felt
no particular gratitude for Harry's
generous offer. "I would just as lief
stav at home."
"Come on, dear; nurse will get you
ready and we will go out for a little
while now.
"All right," I answered listlessly.
"It is a glorious day, Mrs. Waverly,
and I know the sunshine and nature
will be the best prescriptions you can
have," said the nurse.
"Will they?" I asked, while a little
feeling of irritation possessed me.
That nurse gets on my nerves with
her senseless recommendations and
her constant treatment of me as
though I were a child.
In a little while we were motoring
out into the country, which really is
beautiful too beautiful.
I wonder, little book, who first per
petrated that silly lie that nature
always sympathizes, always fits in
your moods. It's one of those beau
tiful myths which we humans imag
ine, but can never realize.
Nature is many wonderful things,
but she is never sympathetic. She
goes on her way making the glorious
days of June a splendor of rose and
gold while you wander about, your
heart in dust and ashes. And then
again when your whole soul is at
tuned to happiness she covers her
self with cold and lets the sobbing
wind send pittiless rain through the
uncovered branches of the trees,
sighing and sobbing.
I looked about me. Birds were
singing, flowers were blooming, sun
shine over all, everywhere I turned
fruitfulness, life, and all the while I
could only sense the feel of that lit
tle cold, stiffened form as I made
them place it in my arms and let me
hold it for an ohur or two before it
was taken from me forever."
Dick, who had been watching my
face closely, said to the chauffeur
with a sigh, "I think we will go back
now; Mrs. Waverly looks tired."
(To Be Continued Tuesday)
0

xml | txt