Dimbie and I—and Amelia

by Mabel Barnes-Grundy

I turned to the doctor quickly.

"Does my husband know?"

"No," he replied.

"Why haven't you told him?"

"I wanted to make sure."

"And you are sure now? There is no other way—treatment, massage?" I spoke breathlessly.

"There is no other way. But a year will pass quickly. You must be brave."

"But I didn't want it to pass quickly," I cried bitterly. "Don't you understand this was to have been my year—my wonderful year?"

"There will be other years," he began gently. "You are young, Marguerite. All your life is before you. There will be next year——"

"But next year will not be the same as this. Go, Doctor Renton; leave me. I am going to cry, and you will be angry. You hate tears. But I must cry before Dimbie comes home, and the time is passing. Unless I cry I—I shall break in two."