Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-09-04
CHAPTER w.
The Prodigal.

CHAPTER ~.
The Prodigal.
Mary Holland had no girl friend OF her
own age, and she did not keep diary'
therefore she lacked two resources Which
to the ordinary girl are normal saIe'y-
valves for moments of mental agitation.
But her poverty in this respect had It's
compensations: for it had led her to form
the habit of making a brisk walk and the
silent communion with nature DO her the
service which other girls ask from gusn
or scribble. And this, which was undoubt-
eddy a more healthy method Of working
Off excitement, was in other ways also an
Improvement on the more usual methods;
for condolences which are whispered 10
nature are never betrayed. while those
which are committed to paper. or poured
into the ear OF sympatheuc IfleAu
are very often not half so safe as they
seem.
1t was moreover, a habit which was char
acteristic of the girl herself. For the
strongest characters are not. as a rue rue
those which are the readiest to find help
or consolation in the written or spoken
word. And Mary Holland, with all her
faults of temper and of training, was
strong
She had left the prodigal with her mother
(She had fastened that name upon him In
her anger. and 1t stuck, though later there
came time when she would have recalled
1t II she could.) After the first moment OF
hesitation he had thrown aside his heart
less and incomprehenSible afrectation OK
being a stranger. and had been content 20
be received son. Perhaps the girl
haunting whisper had stung him into play
ing the man, and perhaps the sight or his
mothers joy had touched him. Mary knew
neither the reason of his denial of his iden-
tity to her. nor why the meeting with his
mother had caused his swift recantation OF
that denial. She believed that. until he
saw Lady Holland holding out her trem-
bling hands to him, and heard the whis-
pered cry, MY SOM" he had fully intended
to persist In that denial. But whatever his
reasor-and she found 1t impossible to guess
what sufficient reason there could be for
maintaining an obvious and silly lie-it had
not stood out against the pleading OF a
mothers love. Mary was glad of that, for
it showed that he was not so heartless after
all as he had pretended to be.
AS soon as she could, therefore, she had
stolen out Of the room and left mother and
son together. There were twelve years Of
love and longing to be satisfied, and twelve
years Of absence and neglect to be atoned
for in that meeting. There was no need Of
witnesses for the Joy and pathos of that
first hour
There was a turmoil in her own thoughts.
too, which called for the sedative Of rapid
physical movement. She had received some
shocks today. 1t was, to put the thing
mildly, somewhat startling to have a
brother who was supposed to be dead turn
up In the flesh in motor car, and straight
way proceed to deny his identity; but 1t
was even more unsettling to have believed
firmly for ten years that this brother was
q BLACKBOARD, and mean and despicable
blackguard at that. and then to find that
he was-well. what was he?
That was the extraordinary thing She
had seen him. and she had looked into his
eyes, and she did not believe now that he
was blackboard at ALL
Then what about his record? Was the
Judgment of his world. pronounced twelve
years ago, wrong? Were her own preju-
dces mistaken? Was Harvey Wiseman's
estimate of the prodigal. given no later
than this afternoon, wholly wrong, too?
She went over the evidence on which she
mad condemned him, and contrasted it Ju-
dicially with the evidence on which she was
now inclined to acquit him. On the one
side. facts: on the other an impression. ON
the one side twelve years of careless spone-
ing on mothers work. and on the daily
sacrifices of mother and sister: on the
otner side a straight look from honest
brown eyes, and a manly tenderness with
ane Ola woman who threw herself into his
arms sonnlng, My son. my son. Logi-
the racts: and 1t was condemnation and
she could not pronounce It, She threw
logic to the winds OF the September night
aru ,s instead to the impression and ac-
Quilted him. And having come to this de-.
clsion. she turned and retraced her steps To
Holland Abbey--the object OF her walk was
attained. "'" ""S
Of course she said to herself. IT am
know that-but l can't help it. If there ia
any furnishing of the prodigal to be done
Cousin Harvey will have to see to the do
In the killing Of fatted calves!"
When she was still about half a mile
from home she heard the throbbing of a
motor car through the darkness and saw
thn ole 49, III
down the beech avenue Was the prodisal
going away again already? The suspicion
flashed across her mind that perhaps II
was not safe for him to stay. There was
lncomprehensible as yet; but she did not
stop to speculate whether some logging
terror which pursued him, some nemesis
Of retribution for sins OF the past. might
not be. the key to the riddle. She would
have believed that, and rejoiced at the
business of it, this afternoon; tonight she
refused to speculate on the thought be-
cause of the pity of It,
She found her mother in the study, alone
Lady Holland was sitting in front of her
American desk and was busy with her
ledger She had not sat at that desk for
ten days now, not indeed since the day
when Harvey wiseman tried to lift his
golf ball over the conservatory and landed
It destructively among the v.hes.
Busy. mother?" said Mary. That's
right This makes a great difference,
doesn't it?''
Lady Holland looked up with a glad
smile and Mary noticed that the work
basket containing the drawn linen work
was open by her side. That, too, had been
untouched of late.
..Eustace is going through the books with
me tomorrow" she said This is my last
pieht with ledger and farm books. / shall
hand everything over to him now, OF
course
land spend the rest of your days in much
drawing of fine lnen!" said Mary, laugh
ing. Then he is going to stay?'
.Oh. yes But he has business in Elgin
tonight He will come over the first thing
in the morning.
"Has he explained things?" asked Mary.
.sWhy that letter was written by his wife
In Oporto for instance? and why he told
me this afternoon that his name was Ar
thur Wortley?"
Arthur Wortley was the name to which
I used to make out my check for his remit
tances, my dear" said Lady Holland. HE
probably thought you knew that"
Him. I didn't, but the explanation sounds
reasonable. And the other thing? Did he
explain that too?"
..Oh, my dear. / didn't ask him! I was
too happy in merely having him. And we
were talking of other things"
About his life In the last twelve years?'
NO. about yours and mine. We talked
a great deal about you; in fact, most of all