Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-11-19
THE RETURN

visible through his open window was clear
and sunny A feecy, rose tinted cloud
drifted acrossits azure In the distance robins
called, and a passing breeze brought in it's
train an odor of poisoning lilac. moist and
enhancing. And suddenly the far sky had
given place to the shadowy staircase on which
he had last seen Maryland she was coming
down!
She was in simple white, just as he had
last seen her, and in her arms she Graded
small white bundle. Her glance held all
the sweetness of womanhood in it; but the
wide eyes above were wistful. And what
was this they bore behind her?
The vision faded, and almost before the
white cloud had dispersed the man was out
of bed, dressing, ordering hack to take
him to the station. He had no idea what the
vision meant but long hushed something
was stirring within him, and he felt that he
had received a psychic summons. Out of the
past long silent voices called him, and in
obedience he was fastening "home."
THE tram drew. into the shabby, well
remembered station, and he swung off
and made his way into Main-st., which
showed but few changes. Nobody recog
nized him, of course; but he saw one or
two faces familiar despite Times relentless
markings, and he heard a couple of drug
store loafers speak of "the Lewes funeral"
After that he dared not voice the intended
to Mary's old dwelling. His heart leaped to
find it apparently just as when he went away.
The lilacs, old but still thrifty, were
abloom in the dooryard. 1t had rained
that morning, and the soft air seemed bathed
in their glorious perfume. The same huge
bush still leaned over the porch rail as in
welcome, and when, trembling a little, he
rang the bell, Mary herself answered the
door moment later. At sight of her Davis
felt thrill that told him how thorough was
this strange resurrection of his long afro
phied soul He could have worshiped her
as she stood there, amazed but smiling, with
her simple white gown falling softly about
her, and little downy head cuddled into
the divine hollow" of her slender throat.
MARY" he cried, and found his voice no
more than whisper. Il thought"
NO. she told him, seeing that he could
not finish, "that was Sheila. We buried her
yesterday"
He swayed as he stood, and her eyes, sad
and tender with long love and sorrow, saw
that he suffered. She swung the door wider.
won't you-come 1n?"
This time it was he who would have lin
gered in the sunshine; but she led the way,
just as of old, to the COOL dim parlor, un-
cannily haunted by lingering scent of yes
terday's flowers. Again as of old she sank
into the low rocker and deity mothered the
stirring baby. While she crooned it back to
sleep David studied her eagerly. She was
paler than he remembered, and the red lips
curved to unwonted pathos; but otherwise
the years that had left him gray and lined
seemed to have made slight impression upon
her. Her face was still like delicate flower,
her eyes blue, her hair bright as ever. But
that the baby in her arms was smaller than
had been that earlier infant, the whole
scene might have been the same.
She looked up presently, calm and sweet as
ever, and he began to ask questions.
"Your father Mary?'
ooh, Father is WE'LL" smiling brightly.
"He is an old man now,-you remember he
was always the kind of man to grow old
early,-but he has good health and is happy.
He married again the year after you went
West
"The children"
"The children!" The smile was infinitely
sad now, and the wide eyes darkened.