Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-11-19
Continued from page 6

NS''''''eN
"They haven't been children for sometime,
Stanley, though they seemed long while
growing up. Mrs.-ny fathers wife,
didn't care to have them in the same house
with her; so father went to her home and
we stayed on here together. Billy's prac-
Using law in New York now; married and
doing fine. The first break came when he
went to Harvard. The baby died in its
second summer. And Sheila,' her voice
breaking, "was married early last year. Her
husband died suddenly, two weeks ago, and
the shock killed her. This is her baby
History repeats itself, Stanley a tear fell
on the baby's head suddenly: "Sheila, dy-
ing, gave her baby to me-.
A LONG moment of silence; then, on
"A the mans part, burst of passionate
self reproach.
And to think that we might have had
twenty years together | could have made
a home for YOU and the children almost from
the beginning. But | was money mad at
first, and them got entangled. And when
freedom came | paid the price in having my
soul die by inches. | thought of nothing but
business success for years, until the day be-
fore yesterday. And now"
Her eyes, deep and still with the wisdom
of long and loving patience, babe him con-
tinue; but instead of finishing the broken
sentence he leaned forward to grasp her un-
occupied hand.
MARY" and the starvation of cheated
lifetime gave tensity to face and tone, "God
knows I've little enough to offer you now
nothing but uncertain health and the money
for which I've bartered everything worth
while,-but I've always loved you! And
you're too sweet and good to judge harshly.
Forgive me all my sins, Dear, and be my
wife now, even though l don't deserve it.
We've lost so much happiness already, and
only my stupid self to blame for everything
But | can't let you begin again alone
with this child, Mary, and l feel that l can't
live longer without you. I'll do anything
you like, live where you please, obey your
slightest wish, Sweetheart. Only-don' say
that you don't love me, that I've forfeited
all JOY in the future by the stupid wrong of
the past"
SHE was silent so long, her eyes closed, her
~ mouth quivering, that his soul shivered
with fear of what might have happened dur
ing his twenty years of absence. She wore no
wedding ring; but this might mean nothing.
Perhaps she was no longer free to love him;
perhaps some more decent fellow had won
her these many moons back. Perhaps
His heart failed him, and keen sword of
pain smote throughit. Of course it was just,
this punishment he would have deemed it
light in the case of another such sinner. And
yet-Mary! Somehow it had seemed that
she must always be faithful, even if he were
faithless. And never, God help him! had
he loved her as now.
"Mary!' he cried again, and at sound of
his breaking voice the aura of remote and
impersonal sweetness that held him aloof
was flushed to wonder by the message of her
lifted eyelids Without conscious movement
he found himself on his knees by her chair,
his eager arms EMBEDDING both herself and the
sleeping baby, her head on his shoulder.
His joyous exclamation of "Mary!'
snapped the last shred of ice film between
them. Her long, curling eyelashes modestly
yelled a bliss too ineffable for common day
light.
al suppose they'll say have no spirit,
she whispered; "but-I've always loved
you, Stanley always remembered you, even
when you seemed to have forgotten me
utterly. And-if you'll let me bring Sheila's
baby-I'll marry you whenever you like,
NV dearest 6earf"