"Poor Shirley!" he muttered. "How can I tell her? Poor Shirley!"
Mechanically he put on his hat and overcoat and went out. It was storming. He had no umbrella, and if he had had one it would have been but scanty shelter against the driving rain. But he did not care. He was even glad of the storm and the discomfort of wet feet and clothes.
For an hour he splashed aimlessly through the city's streets. Then he turned slowly but doggedly homeward.
"Poor Shirley!" he kept saying to himself. "I mustn't let her see how it hurts. I must put a brave face on it before her."
He was half-way home when he stopped with a sudden "Oh!" that was almost a groan. A memory had cut even through his misery. It was their fourth anniversary!
He took out what money was in his pocket, counted it and tramped back through the rain until he came to a florist's. There he got a small bunch of carnations. It was all he could buy with the money he had with him, and it was too late to go to the bank--and little enough was there! He started homeward once more.
By the time the apartment was reached he had pulled himself together a little. With an effort he achieved a smile and went in.
He shook his head. He could not tell her just then, but he could not trust his voice with a kindly lie.
"Oh, I thought surely we'd hear to-day-- You've brought something for me?"
He gave her the little box--it was rain-soaked now--and saw her face fall as she peeped within. Always he had brought her some pretty extravagance on their anniversary. But she kissed him and sent him to his room to put on dry clothes.
They sat down to dinner, a special dinner with things they both liked and could not always have. And for a while he tried to be as merry as the occasion demanded. But not for long. His tongue fumbled over his poor little jokes and his laughter was lifeless. Shirley saw.
His eyes wavered, fell, then rose doggedly to hers.
"What's the matter? Something has happened. Do you mean it's--"
For a moment she stared blankly at him, then burst into a storm of weeping. In an instant his own heartache was swallowed up in sorrow for her. He sprang to her side, catching her close and petting her, begging her "not to take it so," saying foolish brave things.