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Revelations of a Wife

<h2 id="id00952" style="margin-top: 4em">XV</h2> <h5 id="id00953">"BUT I LOVE YOU"</h5> With my bag in my hand, I fairly fled down the stairs which led from our third floor apartment to the street. I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. Only one idea possessed me—to put as much space as possible between me and the apartment which held my husband and his mother. Reaching the street, I started to walk along it briskly. But, trembling as I was from the humiliating scene I had just gone through, I saw that I could not walk indefinitely, and that I must get to some place at once where I could be alone and think. "Taxi, ma'am?" A taxi whose driver evidently had been watching me in the hope of a fare rolled up beside me. I dived into it gratefully. At least in its shelter I would be alone and safe from observation for a few minutes, long enough for me to decide what to do next. "Where to, ma'am?" I searched my memory wildly for a moment. Where to, indeed! But the chauffeur waited. "Brooklyn Bridge," I said desperately. "Very well, ma'am," and in another minute we were speeding swiftly southward. As I cowered against the cushions of the taxi, with burning cheeks and crushed spirit, I realized that my marriage with Dicky was not a yoke that I could wear or not as I pleased. It was still on my shoulders, heavy just now, but a burden that I realized I loved and could not live without. And I had thought to end it all when I dashed out of the apartment! I knew that I could have done nothing else but walk out after Dicky uttered his humiliating ultimatum. But I also knew Dicky well enough to realize that when he came to himself he would regret what he had done and try to find me. I must make it an easy task for him. So I decided my destination quickly. I would go to my old boarding place, where my mother and I had lived and where I had first met Dicky. My kindly old landlady, Mrs. Stewart, was one of my best friends. Without telling too broad a falsehood, I could make her believe I had come to spend the night with her. The next day, I hoped, would solve its own problems. "This is the bridge entrance, ma'am." The chauffeur's voice broke my revery. I had made my decision just in time. How fortunate it was that I had chosen the Brooklyn Bridge destination! I had only to walk up the stairs to the elevated train that took me within three squares of Mrs. Stewart's home. "Bless your heart, child, but I am glad to see you!" was Mrs. Stewart's hearty greeting. Then she glanced at my bag. I hastened to explain. "Mr. Graham's mother is with us, so I haven't any scruples about leaving him alone," I said lightly. "It's so far over here I thought I would stay the night with you, so that we could have the good long visit I promised you when I was here last." "That's splendid," she agreed heartily, "and I'll wager you can't guess who's here." My prophetic soul told me the answer even before I saw the tall figure emerge from an immense easy chair which had effectually concealed him. I was to bid Jack good-by after all. Mrs. Stewart closed the door behind her softly as Jack came over to my side. "What is the matter, Margaret?" he said tensely. "Nothing at all." I told the falsehood gallantly, but it did not convince Jack. "You can't make me believe that, Margaret," he said gravely. "I know you too well. Tell me, have you quarrelled with your husband?" Jack has played the elder brother role to me for so long that the habit of obedience to him is second nature to me. "Yes," I said faintly. "Over me?" The question was quick and sharp. I nodded. "You showed him my letter? Of course, I wished you to do so." "Yes." "How serious is the quarrel? I see you have a bag with you." "It depends upon my husband's attitude how serious it is," I replied. "He made an issue of my not doing something which I felt I must do. Then he lost his temper and said things which if they are to be repeated, will keep me away forever!" I saw Jack's fists clench, and into his eyes there flashed a queer light. I knew what it was. Before he knew I was married he had told me of his long secret love for me. That he was fighting the temptation to let the breach between Dicky and me widen, I knew as well as if he had told me. Another moment, however, and he was master of himself again. "Sit down," he commanded tersely, and when I had obeyed he drew a chair close to my side. "My poor child," he said tenderly, "I know nothing about your husband, so I cannot judge this quarrel. But I am afraid in this marriage game you will learn that there must be a lot of giving up on both sides. Now I know you to be absolutely truthful. Tell me, is there any possibility that the overtures for a reconciliation ought to come from you?" "He told me that if I went out of the door, I must go out of it for good," I said hotly, and could have bitten my tongue out for the words the next moment. Jack drew a long breath. "Did he think you were going to see me?" "I believe he had that idea, yes." "Is he the sort of a man who always says what he means or does he say outrageous things when he is angry that he does not mean in the least?" "He has a most ungovernable temper, but he gets over the attacks quickly, and I know he doesn't mean all he says." "That settles it." Jack sprang up, and going to a stand in the corner took his hat and coat and stick. "What are you going to do, Jack?" I gasped. "I am going to find your husband and send him after you," he said sternly. "Jack, you mustn't," I said wildly. "But I must," he returned firmly. "You have quarrelled over me. I could not cross the water leaving you in an unsettled condition like this." He came swiftly to my side, and took my hands firmly in his. "Margaret, remember this, if I die or live, all I am and all I have is at your service. If I die there will be enough, thank heaven, to make you independent of any one. If I live—" He hesitated for a long moment, then stooped closer to me. "This may be a caddish thing to do, but it is borne in upon me that I ought to tell you this before I go. I hope the settling of this quarrel will be the beginning of a happier life for you. But if things should ever get really unbearable in your life, bad enough for divorce, I mean, remember that the dearest wish of my life would be fulfilled if I could call you wife. Good-by, Margaret. God bless and keep you." I felt the touch of his lips against my hair. Then he released me and went quickly out of the room. It was hard work for me to obey Mrs. Stewart's command to eat the supper that she soon brought me on a tray. Every nerve was tense in anticipation of the meeting between Dicky and Jack, which I could not avoid, and which I so dreaded. What was happening at my home while I sat here, my hands tied by my own foolish act? I did not realize that Mrs. Stewart's suspense was also intense until the door bell rang and she ran to answer it. I stole to the door and noiselessly opened it just enough to be able to hear the voices in the lower hall. I heard the hall door open and then a sound of a voice that sent me back to my chair breathless with terrified happiness. Dicky had arrived! He ran up the stairs, two steps at a time, and knocked at the door of the room in which I sat. "Come in," I said faintly. I felt as if my feet were shod with lead. Much as I loved him, great as was my joy at seeing him, I could no more have stirred from where I was sitting than I could have taken wings and flown to him. There was no need for my moving, however. Dicky has the most abominable temper of any person I know, but he is as royal in his repentance as in his rages. He crossed the room at almost a bound, his eyes shining, his face aglow, his whole handsome figure vibrant with life and love. "Sweetheart! sweetheart!" he murmured, as he folded me in his arms," will you forgive your bad boy this once more? I have been a jealous, insulting brute, but I swear to you—" I put up my hand and covered his lips. I had heard him say something like this too many times before to have much faith in his oath. Besides, there is something within me that makes me abhor anything which savors of a scene. Dicky was mine again, my old, impulsive, kingly lover. I wanted no promises which I knew would be made only to be broken. It was a long time before either of us spoke again, and then Dicky drew a deep breath. "I have a confession to make about your cousin, Madge," he began, carefully avoiding my eyes, "and I might as well get it over with before we go home. Mother's probably asleep, but she might wake up, and then there would be no chance for any talk by ourselves." "Don't tell me anything unless you wish to do so, Dicky," I replied gently. "I am content to leave things just as they are without question." "No," Dicky said stubbornly, "it's due you and it's due your cousin that I tell you this. I don't often make a bally ass of myself, but when I do I am about as willing a person to eat dirt about it as you can find." I never shall get used to Dicky's expressions. The language in which he couched his repentance seemed so uncouth to me that I mentally shivered. Outwardly I made no sign, however. "When he came to the apartment," Dicky went on, "I was just about as nearly insane as a man could be. I had no idea where you had gone and I had just had the devil's own time with my mother and Katie over your sudden departure." "What did your mother say to all this?" I asked the question timorously. Dicky laughed. "Well! of course she didn't go into raptures over the affair," he said, "but I think she learned a lesson. At least I endeavored to help her learn one. I read the riot act to her after you left." "Oh! Dicky!" I protested, "that was hardly fair?" "I know it," he admitted shamefacedly. "I am afraid I did rather take it out on the mater when I found you had really gone. But she deserved a good deal of it. You have done everything in your power to make things pleasant for her since she came, and she has treated you about as shabbily as was possible." "Oh! not that bad, Dicky," I protested again, but I knew in my heart that what he said was true. His mother had treated me most unfairly. I could not help a little malicious thrill of pleasure that he had finally resented it for me. "Just that bad, little Miss Forgiveness," Dicky returned, smiling at me tenderly. My heart leaped at the words. When Dicky is in good humor he coins all sorts of tender names for me. I knew that to Dicky our quarrel was as if it had never happened. "I'll give you a pointer about mother, Madge," Dicky went on. "When you see her, act as if nothing had happened at all, it's the only way to manage her. She can be most charming when she wants to be, but every once in a while she takes one of those silent tantrums, and there is no living with her until she gets over it." I didn't make any comment on this speech, fearing to say the wrong thing. "But I didn't start to tell you about Katie." Dicky switched the subject determinedly. "I might as well get it off my chest. When your cousin came in and introduced himself the first thing I did was to attempt to strike him." "Oh, Dicky, Dicky," I moaned, horrified, "what did he do?" Dicky's lips twisted grimly. "Just put out his hand and caught my arm, saying with that calm and quiet voice of his: "'I shall not return any blow you may give me, Mr. Graham, so please do not do anything you will regret when you recover yourself!' "I realized his strength of body and the grip he had on my arm and even my half-crazed brain recognized the power of his spirit. I came to, apologized, and we had a long talk that made me realize what a thundering good fellow he must be. "I don't see why you never fell in love with him," Dicky continued. "He's a better man than I am," he paraphrased half wistfully. "But I love YOU," I whispered. Across Dicky's face there fell a shadow. I realized that thoughtlessly I had wounded him. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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