The Breaking Point

That evening, Christmas eve, she told Wallie she would not marry him.

Told him very gently, and just after an attempt of his to embrace her.

She would not let him do it.

"I don't know what's come over you," he said morosely. "But I'll let you

alone, if that's the way you feel."

"I'm sorry, Wallie. It--it makes me shiver."

In a way he was prepared for it but nevertheless he begged for time,

for a less unequivocal rejection. But he found her, for the first time,

impatient with his pleadings.

"I don't want to go over and over it, Wallie. I'll take the blame. I

should have done it long ago."

She was gentle, almost tender with him, but when he said she had spoiled

his life for him she smiled faintly.

"You think that now. And don't believe I'm not sorry. I am. I hate not

playing the game, as you say. But I don't think for a moment that you'll

go on caring when you know I don't. That doesn't happen. That's all."

"Do you know what I think?" he burst out. "I think you're still mad

about Livingstone. I think you are so mad about him that you don't know

it yourself."

But she only smiled her cool smile and went on with her knitting. After

that he got himself in hand, and--perhaps he still had some hope. It

was certain that she had not flinched at Dick's name--told her very

earnestly that he only wanted her happiness. He didn't want her unless

she wanted him. He would always love her.

"Not always," she said, with tragically cold certainty. "Men are not

like women; they forget."

She wondered, after he had gone, what had made her say that.

She did not tell the family that night. They were full of their own

concerns, Nina's coming maternity, the wrapping of packages behind

closed doors, the final trimming of the tree in the library. Leslie

had started the phonograph, and it was playing "Stille Nacht, heilige

Nacht."

Still night, holy night, and only in her was there a stillness that was

not holy.

They hung up their stockings valiantly as usual, making a little

ceremony of it, and being careful not to think about Jim's missing one.

Indeed, they made rather a function of it, and Leslie demanded one of

Nina's baby socks and pinned it up.

"I'm starting a bank account for the little beggar," he said, and

dropped a gold piece into the toe. "Next year, old girl."