Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-11-20
AFTERWARD
By Sarah Guernsey Bradley
Drawing by F. Graha m Cootes

THE little clock the long, low writing table
licked away busily and merrily as all proper and
well bred little clocks have way of doing no
matter what faeful thing life death, heaven
hell may hang upon the next second. This particular
seemed to the restless nervous listener fairly to evel
in its utter responsibility it was insisteny carefree,
exasperatngly
Twenty minutes of four! If he coming, he would
be here in less than quarter of hour; for pune
tuality had ever been of his cardinal virtues.
What a tragic medley life was, anyway The woman
covered her face for moment with her tiny, black Dor
dered handkerchief and sighed deeply Why had it all
terest thought of allshe alone responsible. she
had brought it all on herself And for what? little
money, little ease, little position, and-inf mite
misery!
She raised her head and looked searchngly at the
wonderful picture of Senator Hamilton that hung above
che mantepiece, at the piercing, cynical eyes, with
their curious half unpleasant smile She thought OF him
in his last Sickness when disease had whered cynicis
and pain had slenced sneeng and she had come nearer
to caring for him than in of the years that had
gone before For her unsatised maternal instinct had
filled her with great tenderness toward the sick and sui
eringher forgiveness knew bounds in the presence
of bodily ill and physical pain
WITH Jump her thoughts came back to the pres
v" ent. Ten minutes of four She started toward
of herself in friendly mirror, and infinitely pleasing
the reflection of her chic little black robed self that
the Eternal Feminine in her breathed fervent, if
spoken thanksgiving for widow weeds in general and
for her own in particular.
The next moment she tried to be ashamed of the feel
ing; but the thought of the living Philip so potent
that her heart thumped oyousy she realized that he
would find her quite fair and vastly attractive
than when they had parted-an age ago it seemed to
her, though it really only seven dull, monotonous,
horrid years.
Perhaps she had done wrong in sending for him. She
had obeyed impulse and she had lived long enough
20 know that impulses sometimes treacherous things
However, she had taken the STEP and she glad
chat she had taken it. Coming suddenly upon that tiny
item in yesterdays paper announcing Philip Bishops
return, she had made up her mind the spur of the
moment. Seven years since she had seen him People
might undergo the most tremendous change in
years. She hoped she prayed that he would be unlike
her memory of him. She hoped that she had grown
away from his point of vew that she had outgrown him
mentally; that the she had thought perfection
would seem brusk and boorsh that he had grown
careless of his personal appearance that his shoes and
his hands, and his ties would not be to her present
standard of excellence; and finally that he had grown
fat and fat being her special detestaton; in
short that he might be anything and everything except
she had eaten her heart out during the years she had
been Senator Hamltons wife. Those lines from old
poem flashed across her mind:
True to vision steadfast to a dream,
lndissouby married to remembrance
All, if remembrance might only prove ALL If she could
prove to her satisfaction that the whose men,
DRY had been the haunting specter of her married life
whose unforgetabe personality had been his own best
revenge if she could prove that this entirely
creature of her imag naton if she could truthtuy
admit to her soul that she had been grossly mis-
taken, that she had deifed most commonplace
and ordinary, that the real Philip far inferior to
the Dream Philip bit of paste to a crown jewell
then she could to vague extent justify to herself her
marriage to Senator Hamilton, she could partially re-
gain her self respect, she could begin life afesh free
from carking membranes. And If he should prove
the Philip of DID, the Philip of her dreams and memories
then-at the thought her heart beat riotousy, her
breath came in queer little gasps-then-well, then
though self justification and self respect might not be
hers there ethng greater and better and bigger
than those put together greater than all things in the