Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1896-11-04

[ whether he had tived upon husks ol
| otherwise, and with whom be had eat
| en-. The quiet dignity Of the girl wh.
| had remained behind to do all the wort
and bear all the burden. seemed In
some subtle manner to deprive him ol
| any romance that might have attached
itself to him. She ignored his half
| proffered hand, and, turning into this
little passage. led the way upstairs.
Stephen Leach followed silently. He
was rather large for the house, and
especially for the stairs: moreover. be
had q certain burliness of walk, such
I'm the open. There was n vaguely pain.
ed look In his blue eyes, as II they had
suddenly been opened TO his own short
comings. His attitude toward Joycs
was distinctly apologize.
When he followed the girl across the
threshold Of their mothers bedroom the
old lady was sitting up In bed, holding
out trembling arms toward the door.
Here Stephen Leach seemed to know
better what to do. He held his mother
In his arms while she sobbed and mur-
INJURED out her joy. He had no words.
but his arms meant moro than his lips
could ever have told.
1t would seem that the best part Of
happiness II the sharing of 1t with
someone else. Joyce" was the first
distinct word the old lady spoke.
Joyce, he has come at last. He has
come! Come here, dear. Kiss your
brother This Is my first born-my lit
tie Steve"
The young man had su K upon his
knees at the bedside, probably because
1t was the most convenient position.
He did not second bis mothers pro-
posal with much enthusiasm. Alto
gether he did not seem to have discov-
cred much sympathy with his sister
whom he had left In her cradle.
Joyce came forward and leaned over
the bed to kiss her brother while the
old lady's hands Joined theirs. Just
as her fresh young lips came within
reach he turned his face aside, so that
the kiss fell on barren ground on his
tanned cheek.
Joyce" continued the old lady fever
Ishly, Il am not afraid to die now, for
Stephen Is here. Your brother will
take care of you, dear, when am
gone"
1t was strange that Stephen had not
spoken yet, and 1t was perhaps just as
well, because there are occasions In life
when men do wisely to keep silent.
He Is strong" the proud mother
went on. Il can feel 1t. His hands are
large and steady and quiet and his
arms are big and very hard"
The young man knelt upright and
submitted gravely to this maternal In
ventory.
Yes" she said, 'T knew he would
grow to be big man. His little fingers
were SO strong-he hurt me sometimes.
What great mustache! / knew you
had been a soldier. And the skin of
your face is brown and a little rough
What IS this? what is this, Stephen,
dear? Is this a wound?"
Yes" answered the prodigal, speak
Ing for the first time. That is a sword
cut. I got that in the last war. 1 am
d NotOicl III tue Shiiiah VI was,
before I resigned"
The old lady's sightless eyes were
fixed on his face as II listening for the
echo of another voice In his deep, quiet
tones.
Your voice is deeper than your faith
er's ever was" she said and all the
while her trent bling fingers moved low
iHgly over his face, touching the deep
cut from cheek bone to Jaw with soft
inquiry. This must have been very
near your eye, Stephen. Promise me.
dear, no more soldering"
Il promise ttat," he replied, without
raising his eyes.
Such was the home coming Of the
prodigal. After all he arrived at the
right moment in the afternoon, when
the house was ready. 1t sometimes
does happen SC In real life. and not only
in books. There is a great deal that
might be altered in this world, but
sometimes, by a mere chance, things
come about rightly. And yet there was
something wrong, something subtle,
which the dying woman's duller senses
failed to detect. Her son, her Stephen,
was quiet and had not much to say for
himself. He apparently had the habit
of taking things as they came. There
was no enthusiasm, but rather a re-
straint, in his manner. more especially
toward Joyce.
The girl noticed 1t. but even her small
experience of humankind had taught
her that large, fair-skinned men are
often thus. They are not "de ceux qui
s'expliQuent," but go through life pla-
cidly, leaving unsald and undone many
things which :omc think they ought to
say and do.
After the first excitement OF the re-
turn was over 1t became glaringly ap-
parent that Stephen had arrived just in
time. His mother fell into a happy
sleep before sunset, and when the ac-
tive young doctor came a little later
in the evening he shook his head.
YES" he said, II see that she Is
asleep and quiet-too quiet. 1t Is
foretaste of a longer sleep. Some old
people have it.
For the first time Joyce's courage
seemed to give way. When she had
been alone she was brave enough, but
now that her brother was there, wom-
anlike, she seemed to turn to him with
a sudden fear. They stood side by
side near the bed, and the young doc
tor involuntarily watched them. Ste
pfen had taken her hand in his with
that silent sympathy which was so
patural and 50 eloquent. He said moth
ing, this big, sun-stained youth. He
did not even glance down at his sister,
who stood. small, soft-eyed and gentle
at his side.
The doctor knew something Of the
history of the small family thus mo-
mentarily united, and he had always