Page:Confessions of a wife (IA confessionsofwif00adamiala).pdf/252

 Smiling indulgently, the doctor drew his patient away, and Job and I went up into the tree-house to wait for him, and the large moon regarded me solemnly through the vines. "Not here," I thought, "not here!" For I remembered Dana. So I came down from the treehouse, and went into my own home, and Job went with me. In a few minutes Robert came in, knocking lightly on the open door, and waiting for no answer. He did not sit down, but began at once:

"Tell me, why did you not mail that letter to your husband?"

"Tell me why you ask."

He sighed, and turned.

"I know I seem to presume," he said wearily.

"But I thought you would forgive me, Marna. And I had the feeling—of course I may be wrong—that the letter had better go. Anything that comes from your heart—anything that could do any good—"

He did not finish his sentence, but abruptly left me. I went to the door, and watched his sturdy figure quickly crossing the lawn and the hospital grounds, till it disappeared in the sacred shadows of my father's house. I waited till he had been gone awhile, and then ran out with Job and mailed my letter.