"I think that goes a little past me. I think a
mother who allows a child to grow up as I did, who educates it only for
the frivolities of life, has a share in that child's ending. I think
my mother has some responsibility in this," Edith Carr whispered to the
night. "But she will recognize none. She would laugh at me if I tried
to tell her what I have suffered and the bitter, bitter lesson I have
learned. No one really cares, but Hart. I've sent him away, so there is
no one! No one!"
Edith pressed her fingers across her burning eyes and lay still.
"He is gone!" she whispered at last. "He would go at once. He would not
see me again. I should think he never would want to see me any more.
But I will want to see him! My soul! I want him now! I want him every
minute! He is all I have. And I've sent him away. Oh, these dreadful
days to come, alone! I can't bear it. Hart! Hart!" she cried aloud. "I
want you! No one cares but you. No one understands but you. Oh, I want
you!"
She sprang from her bed and felt her way to her desk.
"Get me some one at the Henderson cottage," she said to Central, and
waited shivering.
"They don't answer."
"They are there! You must get them. Turn on the buzzer."
After a time the sleepy voice of Mrs. Henderson answered.
"Has Hart gone?" panted Edith Carr.
"No! He came in late and began to talk about starting to California. He
hasn't slept in weeks to amount to anything.
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