The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1897-06-29
WAY OF THE WORLD

T.
The long express train sped over the
rails as If 1t knew it's journeys end was
near. The rain fell in torrents. and made
dirty, lugubrious, slanting lines on the
window panes; various persons, as they
closed bags and bundles for the last time,
or stoo dup in the aisle to receive the
parting attentions Of the porter. might be
heard grumbling at the particular variety
of weather ordered out by today's bureau;
the faces Of many were travel-worn and
weary, and the voices were fretful and
complaining. But of this whole scene
Philip Hartranft was Obvious. As he sat
by his window, looking out upon the fly
ing landscape, he might. from his express
sion, have been gazing into realms Of the
blessed. And, in fact. that was exactly
what he was doing; for the BROWNIES of
earth is changed to the colors Of Paradise
when seen through the medium of happy
eyes.
What a glorious world it was. How
tender and fresh was the young green
grass Of these eastern meadows when
compared with the older growth of the
western plains! What fair little towns
these through which they rushed, with
their air of civilization and prosperity
ana comfort! HOW joyous was even the
rain as it fell upon the thirsting fields and
splashed against the windows, He re-
called, confusedly, a line he had once
heard sung at church to the effect of
some sort Of blessing coming ~down-"like
rain upon the mOWn grass
But the center and soul Of all the glory
was the fact that he was so near home,
and her; that every moment, every turn
of the wheels, was bringing them nearer
together. and that they were going to
meet today; ~today-was it possible, after
all those three long yea rs of Spn1r1tinn
OF toll and waiting, Of patience and reso-
lite putting aside of longings? Of this
day, of this moment, he had dreamed a
hundred times; of this moment more than
of any other; for. somehow, the later,
greater moment of their meeting, when
he should see her face, hear her voice.
touch. an! take her in his arms again
all this had seemed too wonderful, too
full of JOY that was akin to pain in it's
Intensity, too sacred, almost, to be calm
~ thought of before it came. SO to that
part he had shut his eyes and had, in
stead, lived through again and again
this last half-h0ur of his journey of eight
thousand miles.
Il shall sit there in the American
train,' he had used to dream, "s%urrOund-
ed by persons who are making ordinary
journeys, and who have ordinary meet
ings III prospect. | shall look out at the
fields and houses and shall admire even
the fences and the danger-signals at the
crossroads; and | shall be thinking,
Presently I shall see her; the waiting is
all over now: the hard life is lived out;
jtDbH ana It's lDl ana It's dlOntntSS are
behind. forever
Thus he had gone over it, many a
time; ana now the one real time had
come, and it was better even than fancy
had painted it.
what a good life it had been. after all!
the toll and struggle Of its earlier years,
while they had seemed unfair to him
then. had, in reality, been only what he
had needed for the development and
growth of what men call character, and
had formed a fitting background for the
hp1utV and brightness which ElH1 N0r'G
subsequent coming had brought TO him.
Even this parting. now that it was over,
he could understand had not been without
its value; for the correspondence which
it had necessitated had brought them into
closer touch and more perfect sympathy,
and had given them Il real knowledge of
each others thoughts and ideas and opin-
ions which their brief acquaintance, and
the short, happy months of their court
ship had precludcd.
He knew and rcioiced that in these
three years his had been the harder lot of
the two; it had seemed to him the one
concession Fate had made-the fact that
she was the one who could remain in her
pleasant home. surrounded by those who
loved and admired her; and that for him
instead of fer her was deCreed the lonely
life across the sea among an alien peO-
pie; where the long days, full Of incessant
and exciting labor, and the solitary eve
niuGS spent in making plans and reports,
had had for their sole brightness the mo-
mentS when he was free to see pictures
in the fire and dream dreams of a future
4htI VI lIt Joy vi WIN WIN Gnu IOi III
ON flew the train. What a wonderful
thing it was that she had walked into
his life as he had done. to glorify it by
her sweetness and her love! This was
always to him the most ineXplicabe of
miracles: not at all because she was rich
and he was poor-that fact had always
been Il matter too eXtraneOuS and second
airy to appeal in any way to either of
them; but simply because she was what
she waS-a beautiful, true, womanly
woman; to him, the one woman in all the
world.
And to think how near he had come to
doubling her! 1t would never cease to be
a source of s~elf-reproach to him that he
had allowed even that transient shade of
questioning of her loyalty to maj the per-
fectness of his belief in her. 1t had been
at that time when he had received no let
ters from her for seven long weeks-no
letters, when her letters were the bright
spots of his existence. He wondered If
any one in America-'at home'-could
quite, understand what such a silence
meant to one so wholly a stranger in a
strange land as he had been. Even now,
in his happiness, his brow contracted
when he thought of how the glad ex-
pectation with which he had gone for
his mail that November noon-time had
been changed to bitter disappointment
when. for the first time in two years and
a half, he found none waiting for him.
Then had come the slow, dragging. color
less days until the next incoming, mail,
when he assured himself he should have
two letters instead of one. and then. the
last. intolerably long hours OF waiting,
"Co oAAs ~ ="
"a letter from Haworth. some messages
from his chiefs in New York. a Number OF
circulars: nothing from her.
After he had gone through this eXpe-
rienCe once or twice more, and the slcken-
ing anxiety and apprehension and dread
which were uniting him for his work,
had made and abandoned every other pos
sible conjecture. he now, one
evening. that terrible thought had lash.
ed into his mind-the suspicion OF
her and her faithfulnesS to him: and then
how. sitting alone in the cold. cherries
room which was the only home he had.
he had fought it out with himself once
for all; and how she had conQuered-not
his love for her. but just her own sweet,
strong personality: for, recalling that. ne
had been forced to see his own unWortnl-
ness in doubling her. and to recognize
that there must be some adequate ana
imct cause for her silence which would be
explained by the future. And he fe!t
once more a thrill of the same thankful
ness and eXaltation which had come to
him that night in the absoluten1ss of his
conviction that. whatever else might be