The Glenwood post., 1915-12-25
THE SPRING SONG
BY ALLISON GRANT.

had been the strongest feeling she
had left for her husband. She shiv-
cred as she recalled that she had
married steady Justin Moore, who
was twenty years her senior, because
it seemed the only solution of all the
difficulties which piled themselves
before her when her mothers illness
was pronounced incurable. Justin
Moore had long begged for the privi-
lege of being Elinor's husband and
brother and father all in one, and al
though she told him frankly that she
did not love him as she felt she ought,
she allowed him to claim her, and
now that she was his widow she
was grateful that nothing in her
conduct toward him could have let
him know that each day of their mar
ried life was a day of bondage to her.
On springlike day in late Feb
ruary, she went out to theater where
she could see good old-fashioned
play with a happy-ever-afterward end
ing.
Between the third and fourth acts
the orchestra began a soft rendition
of Mendelssohn's Spring Song" Eli
nor's thoughts flashed back to the
springtime day, five years before,
when she and Barry Elliott had stood
together on the pier at Old Point Com
fort watching the ships pass in and
out of the harbor. She lived again
through the evening of that day when
she mad stood on the moonlit deck of
q h.h0 CT nd hoH
good-by to Barry, thus bringing to an
end their acquaintance of month
while visiting at the Virginia planta-
tion of Barry's cousin Alice, Elinor's
school friend, who had married short
ly afterward and gone to India with
her engineer husband.
All the long, hard years that had
intervened seemed but troubled
dream to Elinor. AS the final curtain
rose to show the hero and heroine
united after having bridged the chasm
which kept them apart during the ear
ly part of the play, she felt curious
personal sense of having bridged the
empty chasm in her own life and
heart.
She remembered having heard,
shortly after her marriage. Of Barry's
engagement to beautiful Southern
girl, but that did not spoil her men,
ory of that one perfect evening with
him. He was then a penniless, en-
bryo lawyer. just out of college, and
he felt that he must attain some sort
of professional standing before offer
ing himself to Elinor. but each had
understood that underneath their
formal good-by was a heart cry that
even the long hand clasp could not
fully express or suppress. She hoped
he had been happy, was happy now.
AS she went from the theater she
stopped to look at window display
of blossoming plants. and uncon-
sciously as she looked she hummed
the opening bars of the Spring
Song" Her deep contralto tone at
tracted a passing man, who was TAX
ing hasty glance at the window. A
glance at her brought him to a sud-
den stop. A second glance brought
him to her side. That brought her
eyes upward casually to regard so
close neighbor, and as her eyes met
she brought her hands together with
an impulsive movement that let the
violets she held fall to the sidewalk.
Somehow, words were small part of
their greeting, of replacing the vio-
lets in her hands, and of their walk.
ing OFF together down Broadway.
"And your husband?" ventured
Barry. HE ia with you here?"
MY husband died six months ago;
my mother-seven. I came away to
try to forget some of the cares of the
last five years." said Elinor quietly.
But tell me of your own life, Barry.
Is the lovely Southern girl good to
your"
why, didn't Alice write you about
my fiasco?"
"she never mentioned you after
telling of your engagement"
Its easily told" began Barry
bluntly. "The lovely Southern girl
wanted everything lovely that money
could buy, and when she got an op-
portunity to choose between penniless
me and a man with ready-made
fortune, she chose him. leaving me to
come to my senses and settle down
to digging, which I have done con.
stantly and profitably ever slnce.'
How strange Alice told me none
of that" mused Elinor, But perhaps
she thought had enough without
knowing that you, too, were unhap
py
Then my happiness did matter to
you, Elinor?" asked Barry.
More than I could ever make you
understand, Barry; but my duty kept
me from even understanding 1t my.
self" In few words Elinor told him
quite simply what her life had been
since they parted. ut seemed the