Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-07-03
MEREDITH NICHOLSON

father" said Wayne, kindly ITS about
these loans that 1 want to speak to you
Waish is trying to save the good things
until you can realize on them to advan-
tage The notes now falling due will be
cared for"
No they say they won't renew them.
And my friends elsewhere refuse to
help
1T is all arranged said Wayne. quiet
~ i have taken them up myself and
given my own In place of them. You
may be at ease about them. 1 will carry
them as long as YOU want me to. Here
are the old notes. They are Cancelled.
He had spoken with a gentleness he
had never used to any being before His
fathers helplessness had disarmed any
lingering resentment he faced sadly
decrepit Old man, in whom there was no
spark of hope. Why had their lives been
SO lrreconciiably at variance? In the
Virginia hills and at Denbeigh he had
! thought much of this. Jean had helped
| him; Paddock and Stoddard had lifted
field he was under definite obligations;
and Joe-even Joe-had made sacrifices
for him: but his father had never dealt
with him as an individual but rather as
a type. Even in his childhood they I'd
never met on any common ground. '-e
had never been conscious. of a father s
faith or sympathy. His father, with his
, head in the clouds. had merely stumbled
/ All dH!iOydHCe over MS son playtnlnSS.
But he realized now that life nobly
lived is not an affair of reprisal and VEN
geance. Or even of measured reciprocity.
What he had missed through his fathers
vanity and selflshness was nothing when
weighed against this new experience of
the joy of giving and serving.
He put into his fathers hands the lit
tie bundle OF notes he had gathered up
at the banks. with the cancellation marks
stamped upon them. Roger Craighill
fhaN Ia nd n nf
at once comprehend what it was that his
son had done. -.
THAT is all there is Of that, but there
is something else / have to say. You ere
brought shame upon you. and In my BIT
terness against you l have sought to In
jure youth infamous ways that L won't
describe. The night old Gregory died
here 49,
Col. Craighill lifted his head quickly
and raised his hand in quite his old. au-
thOritatfve manner.
1T was his heart-the autopsy showed
it had been diseased for years. insisted
on the most careful examination!'
| II dare say. I didn't come to discuss
that. That is your affair. What have
| to say concerns me alone. When. 1 Of
| fered that night to take whatever blame
might follow his death here, u was from
no good feelings toward you, but in q
/ spirit Of evil. I wanted to place you
under crushing weight of shameful OBJ
| legation to me-that was it. And I've
come back to say that I'm sorry. I'm
sorry for every hour Of. anxiety and
| shame l ever gave you. Come, father,
| let us be friends!" .
Roger Craighill was slow to compre-
bend what had happened. He tried to
get upon his feet, and Wayne caught him
and lifted him up. his arm round his
| fathers shoulders. and It was he who
gave the handclasp, vigorous and strong
with the strength Of his redeemed man.
hood. He had gone low. but he had
risen high. He who had been of the
companionship of dragons had come into
possession of his own soul. He had still
his weaknesses, and he might yet STUN
BILE and fall; but for an instant he stood
above the clouds. master Of himself and
drinking deep of clean airs OF hope and
| aspiration.