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Show LOVERS VERSUS LOVING The Editor of Pictoral Review prints a letter for every October bride to read. "You ki.ow my husband he's a pretty good, average, wholesale, lovers-his lovers-his work American. It took me nearly two years to find this out. I started believing him a superman; for looks a nineteeth century Adonis; for manner, an up-to-date Chesterfield; for finance, a Morgan; and for patience, Job himself. And every time he slipped an inch from the pedestal, I grieved. "Looking back, I see it now as an era of hysteria. I hear myself command my husband to kiss me, to tell me once again that tie loved me. I see myself sulking while he read his evening paper. And, oh, how I still thrill with the memory of our long-drawn reconciliations reconcilia-tions when I sobbed and shuddered in his arms. "That was love! "Wy awakening came one night di.ectly after a particularly hysterical reconciliation. I clung to my husband, mv twitching fingers grippii.g his aims my tears-stained face buried' in hij ne k. I could feel the clasp of his hands loosening, and I clung all the tighter, crying, 'I love yon-I love jou'. " 'Do you,' he asked. 'Do you realy love me?' I nodded. " 'Then, my dear girl, why don't vwu act as if you did? Why are you not happy and w.iy don't yju make me happy? "For a few seconds I was threatened with fresh hysteria, and then, thank God, I saw clearly even through the mist of tears. T.ie man I loved was not angry nor sorry just plain tired. "From that hour I began to cultivate the habit of loving -1 encouraged tha spirit of tenderness which is free from hysteria, that yearning affection which expresses itself in service, not in words, in sympathy and comradeship, not in passionate demands. J "In love, I servel only to conmanl praise, to be petted. In loving, I served because servie brought contentmint. In love, I Siw myself conferring a favor on the mm I married, pu ti ig ! my body ab ve my soul. In loving, I ' saw what the man was confering on ms, the supp rt and the prjtection which give a wife that sense of safety and serenity which the unmarried women never feel. "To-day, I do not miss the joy of reconciliation, re-conciliation, because I have the uninterrupted unin-terrupted sense of being loved and protected. pro-tected. In the old days, when I a kid my husband if he loved me. I received perfunctory or teasing answers. Now 1 know that he does. I read it in his voice, when he comes home tired and, with his arms around me, sighs, 'What would I do, if I didn't have you to come to?' "Oh.don't you see, we've both acquired acquir-ed the habit of loving, of holding the happiness of married life in our hands the real thing, instead of the bubble we call love? I could write all night, and yet not tell you all that loving means. "It means to mc--well, saying 'Oh, I do wish I had a copy of Pictorial Review,' Re-view,' and thjn fi.idiiig one in his overcoat over-coat pocket the very next night. It means saj ing, casually, 'I would like to see something very foolish. like the u:n "Midnight Bride".' and then having him telephone about noon that I'm to come to town because he has the tickets. It means when he leaves home suddenly that I'll received a night let tergram announcing his safe arrival and I'm to take good careof myself. It means the home loving light in his eye each night as he drops his lat-'h- key back in his po-ket. It means feeling his hand on my shoulder as 1 felt it just a moment or so back when he passed the desk. It means knowing that when his hair is wnite and my face is wrinkled instead of smooth, we'll be as happy as ever rr twim ulJ together. It means just thinkin; G id for a good husband who loves me and believes in me. Thiit is what comes with the habit of loving." |