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CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
TOKENS OF LOVE KEEP HEARTS AFLAME
"What made you ask me that ques
tion about being on the Lady Sal
via?" I asked Donna Tenney.
"Simply because I seemed to feel
your presence everywhere on the
boat," she answered, "but more than
all else, I felt it in Malcolm Stuart's
stateroom. Why, Margie, that room
seemed more like you than even your
own room in your home."
"Describe it to me," I said. "I am
very anxious to know what kind of
a room looks like me." As I said this,
little book, I had a queer kind of ex
citment inside of me. It seemed so
strange that Malcolm Stuart should
have a room in his boat a room in
which he was to spend most of his
time that seemed to one of my
friends to look as though I had fur
"Well, to begin, the woodwork is
all painted white."
"There is nothing original in that,"
I said. "Almost all boats are painted
"I know it," she answered, "but
the carpet is white with sprigs of sal
via dropped over it. Over the built
in divan, which I suppose serves as
a bed, is a gorgeous silk cover of sal
via cover, and let into the panel at
the foot of it was the picture of a
woman standing knee-deep in glow
ing, blooming salvia her arms out
stretched and her face raised in a
way that seemed to say, 'I'm glad t
am alive.' That woman, Margie, was
an idealized you."
"Oh, Donna, you certainly are ro
mancing. Malcolm Stuart never had
my picture in fact, I have not had
a picture taken in years."
"I can't help that, Margie, that
painting certainly looks like you
not as you look every day, perhaps,
but as I have often seen you when
you have been particularly happy.
"The whole picture made one glad
to be alive just to look at it. It was
, placed so that, as I lay there that aft
ernoon, the sun came through the
window and suffused it with an un
"Did you mention my likeness to
"I certainly did, and was met by
the assertion that the picture had
been painted by an artist in Italy
who had never seen you. Malcolm
Stuart said he, too, had noticed a re
semblance. He said it seemed to him
to look as he imagined your joyous
soul must look when shining through
"That was a pretty compliment,"
I interrupted, "I am glad some one
thinks I have a joyous soul. Tell me v
what else was in the room.
"Nothing, except a small, glassy
covered table on which was a won
derful piece of coral carved into a
spray of salvia and many books in
"I can't understand, Donna, why
the room looked like me. I am not
at all fond of red and I would never
use it in the furnishings of a room
you certainly know that, Donna."
"Yes," she answered, "I know that,
and it may be the picture that stamps
the room with you, but somehow,
Margie, all' the afternoon as I lay
there with that aching tooth I had
the feeling that you were going to
walk in any minute? Why didn't you
come with us?"
"I was not feeling very well that
day, and besides Dick wrote me while
he could not get down for the sailing
party, there was a possibility that he
might get down in the afternoon, so
I waited for him."
"Devoted wife!" remarked Donna
lightly. Then she added more ear- 3
nestly, "Margie, I have often won
dered at the happiness of you and
Dick. You had never had any mis
understandings, have you?" .
I only smiled, but I wondered, little
book, what she would think if she
could see sonie of the confidences I