Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1910-07-20
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]. MADONNA...
By Miss Maude Noland
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The lady's garb was one of mourn,
ing, suggesting in its completeness a
recent bereavement.
Having her for fellow passenger on
Q Havana-bound steamship, one nat
urally ascribed to Spain the even
cream of her complexion, the deep
dark Of her eyes, the satin black of
her hair. made more vivid by some
few strands of silver spreading from
the temples. When first saw her
/ was startled and unreservedly
drawn to her on account of her mar
vellous resemblance to my mother.
My mother, however. was Virginian,
and, despite her coloring, quite with
out Latin admixture. She died sew
eral years ago, leaving me no like
ness Of herself except that, as those
who had known her are wont to say,
she lives again in me.
While 1t soon became plain to me
that in turn strongly attracted my
fellow traveller, there was an eloquent
appeal for aloneness in her bearing
that discouraged advances. The
fleeting looks she accorded me tried
to avoid my notice. but were full OF
a sad. shy tenderness that found a
ready harbor in my heart.
We were three days out from New
York, less than one from Havana.
The insistent roll of the dinner gong'si
metallic thunder had cleared the
deck Of other passengers. / sat on
alone. deep In the beauty of the wan
ing tropic sunset. vanishing tints of
palest rose and turquoise, the match
less lavender lights of the tropics,
here distinct, there blending, all shift
ing, soft in the sky. shimmering on
the water, making elusively opaline
the very air through which we NOV
ed. A few of the earliest stars twin
kled whitley.
Presently a soft swir of skirts broke
into my absorption, as lady gowned
in black stepped across the high
threshold of the ships empty draw
ing room and settled to position of
transient repose against the doorpost
not far from me. The scarf which
she usually draped about her head
and shoulders, mantilla fashion, when
on deck, fluttered. loosely in her
hands. She did mot see me. The
west drew her immediate attention.
But her still, deep eyes, in their slow
wanderings eventually discovered me.
There was more of the tender light
in them now, less Of sadness. more Of
approachableness.,. In all the voyage
no word had passed between US.
"Ofelia," she said, soft CLEAN. in
her face.
'"'How did you know my name?" l
leaned forward, thrilling to her voice,
smooth and slow and low pitched like
the Southern speech of my mother.
I spoke in English though she had
used the Spanish form of my name.
"Your name-Ofelia? Wonder was
in her question. But 1t was not ac-
companied by action as mine had
been. The lady seemed SO deeply
subdued. ut is my daughters name, "
she added, quietly.
"My mothers. too" I supplemented,
glady.
gAnd mine," gently contributed the
lady. Then, the sweet mother look
in her eyes: you are very like my
ofelia."
. = =
"And you are 30 like my mother"
/ replied, a little afraid. But in a
moment, with small reason perhaps,
my heart filed with happiness, like
a child's, and laughed.
Did the lady's attitude quicken?
was on my feet now. Placing
my hand on the chair next mine l
said, Come, sit beside me-"
She came with outstretched hands.
and clasping both CT mine Rugged
them to her bosom. She pressed her
cheek warmly against my cheek.
"Ofelia. Ofelia!" she murmured. af-
fectionately. Her body grew tense;
her heavy. hot, quick tears fell on
my hands. Suddenly, swiftly. with
out word to explain, she let go my
hands and left me.
It must have been then that she
dropped her scarf, but was as lit
tie cognizan! as she of her loss.
The first of the diners were re-
turning to the deck. l fastened to
the front IF the boat, where hoped
to be free from their companionship,
and leaned on the rail--remember-
ing, gripving, dreaming-while the
twilight merged into the fresh velvet
beauty of early night.
"Su oer-r-don. senorita"
Someone was addressing me in
labori3us Spanish; I who thought my
self Enthusiastically American.
Turning toward the voice / saw
before me little Scotch-looking gen.
tlernan with kindly bright blue eyes
and ruddy complexion. He held
the ladys scarf toward me and bow
ed with punctilious elegance.
La sonora, su madr-r-re, he olvi-
su madr-r-re@
His bury Spanish lapsed. The lit
tie man had recourse to English and
gesticulation. Your mothers veil
left in chair" 1t was communi-
cation difficult to render into pan
tomime, but he f1inched not-not he.
There was no help for it. 1t was
impossible to interrupt his rapidly re-
peated phrases and illustrative calls
themes. 1t is easy in the tropics,
even in the cool of November even
ing. for strenuous persons to exer-
else to the point of discomfort. and
he soon ceased his efforts to hope
fully observe their efforts on my in
telligence.