The day book. [volume], February 18, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 15

About The day book. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917

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

                
THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
WOMAN'S SAFETY VALVE TEARS
Chapter LXXXI.
Father Waverly has kept improving
all day, and toward evening, although
he was very weak from the rigorous
treatment, the doctor said that it
looked as though he could pull him
through.
Mother Waverly went to sleep late
in the afternoon, and the nurse whom
Mollie and I had sent for made her
appearance. Mrs. Waverly combatted
against a nurse all day. She said she
would not let anyone take care of her
husband but herself; that she was
perfectly capable of directing Mollie
and me and we ought to be ashamed
of ourselves not to want to take care
of Dad.
"We would gladly do that if we
knew how, but Dad is seriously ill and
it isn't your directions that anyone
must take," I told her, "but the doc
tor's, and a trained nurse will be
much better able to carry them out
than anyone of us. We might be do
ings things which would make him
worse."
"You should not talk to me in that
tone of voice," whimpered Mrs. Wav
erly. "It sounds as though you were
talking to an unruly child."
"You are as foolish' as "a child,
mother, dear," said Mollie. "I am dead
tired". I could not-stay up. tonight if
I wanted to after twenty-four hours
without sleep, and I can' sefe that
Madge could not hold out -all night,
and surely you are in bed 'and use
less." "Perhaps Dick will be home,"
moaned Mrs. Waverly.
"Father's life must not be depend
ent on 'perhaps,' " said Mollie deci
sively. "I have told the doctor to send
us a nurse."
Mrs. Waverly took refuge in tears
and muttered that she was of no ac
count in her own home.
When 6 o'clock came I telephoned
over to the hotel and found that Dick
had not returned. I was almost crazy
and I kept moving about until Mollie
again asked me the question:
"What's the matter, Margie, are you
worrying about Dick?"
"Of course not, dear, but I wanted
to get him as soon as he had reached
the hotel and tell him about Dad."
Again I asked myself: "Is it right
to shield a man and lie for him as I
am doing for Dick?"
Just then the telephone rang and I
heard Mollie say: "Yes., Dick, this is
Mollie. Yes, Margie is over here. She
has been here ever since morning.
Father is dangerously ill and we've
been .trying to get you all day."
I went out of the room hastily, for
I could feel the sobs coming that all
day I had tried to repress.
I went up to Dick's old room and
threw myself on the bed and gave
way to the tears I had been holding
back all day. I do not cry easily, for
the years of repression when I was
alone and felt it selfish to burden othr
ers with'my sorrow have done their
work. But my very soul seemed rack
ed with the sobs that I could not keep
back another moment. I buried my
face in the pillow, hoping to stifle
them. It seemed as though my house
of cards had toppled about my head.
I could not see light ahead; I could
not think Dick loved me; I even be
gan to wonder if I still loved him.
Will lif e with him ever be just the
same again?
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)"
o o
ESCALLOPED CABBAGE
Boil until tender one-half of a large
head of cabbage. Drain and cool. Put
in buttered baking dish. Sprinkle
with salt and paprika. Add one cup
of white sauce. Lif t the cabbage that
it may be mixed with the sauce. Put
on a layer of grated cheese and a thin
layer of bread crumbs. Bake for 15
minutes'. Serve- in dish in which it
was cooked. - -