Flying Words

Helen Johnson sat in her pleasant momIng room sewing on some dainty fine linen, o grieved, troubled look in her blue eyea and a suggestive tremble about her lips. She had a handsome young husband, loving and attentive, but he possessed a disposition annoyingly hasty and positive, and as usual he had left her sore hearted and distressed. With a half startled expression she ree ognized his step in the hall and wondered wby he had returned, for he had scarcely had time to reach his place of businesa since he had gone out af ter break fast. "Helen, get me my notebook quickl" he exclaimed as he entered her presence, with a cloud of annoyance on his face. "One would think that you might have seen it andsaved me this troublo." "Indeed, Frank, I have not seen it. Are yon quite sure that you left it?" the young wife replied, With an effort to appear cheerful. "Sure! What do you take me f or? Iguesa I'm not in my dotage just yet. I surely left it on the table directly before you. Certainly you must have seen it," he declared in quick, positive tones. The color rushed in a torrent to Helen'a face, and an angry gleam darkened her eyes. "Frank, it is unkind and ungentlemanly for you to speak so to me. I am confident that I have not seen your notebook." This display of independence was some. thing new for the young wife. Generally her eyes would fill with tears, and she would submissively endure his injustice, and Frank arched his brows in astonishment. "Just as you said this morning that you did not know where that last box of handkerchiefs was. I presume that you are still in ignorance of its whereabouts?" "No, Frank, I found it in a drawer of your bookcase, just where you had placed it," she responded, with a ring of triumph in her voice and a sparkle of victory in her eyes. "Oh, you did," Frank said sheepishly. "Well, I expect that you knew it was there all the time. A man with his mind full of business can't be expected to remember everything, but I am sure that I left my book on that identical table, and you must have seen it. It is barely possible that your memory may be treacherous also. Will you be so kind as to try to recall where you have placed it?" Frank's voice was tauntingly sarcastic, for he was chagrined at himself because his wife had got the better of him about his handkerchiefs, but he was too proud to sonfess it. "Frank, you shall not insult me longer. It is humiliating, and I will not endure it. I know nothing at all about your book, and until you apologizeyou need not expect me to be veey gracious." Helen finished her emphatic declaration by taking up the morning paper and turning her attention to its columns of news. "But. Helen, Isay you must have" "That will dol It is not my habit to misrepresent thjngs," she interrupted, and with insulted dignity she swept from the room. "Well, Pil be blamed if she don't mean ltt I was mistaken about those blasted handkerchiefs, but I know what I'm talking about in this case. Pil just turn the tables on her, and she must apologize before I unbend. I don't propose to let any woman dictate to me, particularly when I am in the right. I will just teil her so." And suiting the action to his words he wrote these words on the margin of the paper lying on the table: Heles- r, too, have some demands to mako. When you iind the notebook, I shaü expert an apology from you. Frank. Then tearing off what he had written he placed it in a conspicuous place and lef t the house. Arriving at his business house he removed his hat, and in so doing the missing notebook feil out upon the floor. He stared at it a moment in disgust, while he remembered placing it there during the time he hastily scanned the morniag paper. "Jerusaleml Haven't I made a fooi ot myself!" he exclaimed in dismay. "Well, Helen is a forgiving little girl. She will bè all right at dinner anyhow. I hope she won't see that note I left her, for that would settle the case." The day passed with its usual business routine, and as Frank made ready to return home he bethought himself of a ring that his wife had expressed a desire for, and completely penitent he stopped on his way and purchased it, hoping that it might prove a peace offering and thus relieve him from an apology. "Helio, helio!" he cried briskly, very much as if nothing had occürred, as he entered the parlor where his wife was. "It's been a scorcher, hasn't it? The hottest day of the season." "I have not suffered from the heat," Helen replied coolly, without even looking in his direction. "Oh, you haven't! Well, that is good." Frank's voice was meek, and he smíled gushingly. "Say, Helen, you remember that ring you saw at Rodgers'? Well, I have bought it for you this evening. Hold out your hand, little girl, and let us see how it will look." "Thank you, Frank, but I don't care for it," she said quietly. "You don't care for it! Well, I like thatl" he responded in surprise. "Why don't you want the ring, Helen?" "One reason is that I could not enjoy it until I find your notebook and offer you an apology." A world of irony scintillated from every word, and Frank understood that there was nothing for him but an open confession, if he should ever expect peace in his home. "Never mind, the book, Helen. I am sorry I lcft that note. We will say no more about it," he ventured evasively. "The matter cannot rest that way. Frank. The book must be found," Helen declared flrmly. "Helen, I ara going to ask for a little vacation, and w will take an outing. Yor need it, and I am just worried to death with business. My mind is all worked up, and I cannot think of anything I ought to. The fact is l-l found the book after I left you this mornina." "Oh, you didl" Just that noncommittal expression from Helen and nothing more. "I acted like a brute about it, Helen, and If you don't let me put this ring on your flnger I will not believe you have forgiven me," he said humbly. Archly Helen extended her hand, and Frank placed his peace offering upon her fineer, then fonrivinelv she lifted her