The Tupelo journal., 1917-07-27
bell echoed through the lonely house:

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a second and still a third followed in
quick succession before the old butler
could reach the door. The woman be-
fore the fire started and a quick flush
spread over her face as the pealing
bell burst upon her consciousness and
brought her back to reality. The flush
deepened as the sound of stamping
and impatient steps on the stairs ac-
companied the old buffers eyes, sir
yes, sir-right in the library, SIR
She turned toward the door just as
a tall man in the uniform of the
United States army burst into the
room, his face alert and eager. Then
she bent her head as his words reached
her.
Julia, I've come back to you. I'm
here. Haven't you a welcome for me,
this Christmas eve?" He fell on his
knees before her and, Selling her
hands, covered them with kisses.
Still she was silent, but, as he drew
his crumpled letter from her hands,
and laughing, held it up before her,
she smiled in his eyes and said: "Yes,
George, 1 am indeed thankful you have
come, for this Christmas I can give
you what you want-dear."
He sprang to his feet and still hold
ing his hands, pulled her gently up to
him. "Julia," he whispered passionate
ly, at was worth it, everything is worth
it, if it could make you care"
Ginger, looking up at them, over her
back, only saw the tall stranger stoop
and take his mistress in his arms; but
to the woman as she slipped her hands
yer his shoulders, and clasped them
tight behind his dark head, this mo-
ment was the end of dreams and tho
beginning of reality.
Some time later she asked him about
the little Marguerite he was to have
brought with him from Belgium. His
flee grew sober.
Little Marguerite can only be q
dream-child, after all, my darling" he
said, gently. "She died several weeks
before l sailed from home. It was
some time before I could locate her
and, when I did, the woman who had
taken care of her gave me these little
boots she had worn SO much.
81 didn't write all this, because I
wanted to tell you all about myself,
in case you were much disappointed,
dear-so I sent the little boots over
and so avoided a detailed explanation.
But the past is a dream" he went on;
land the present is with US ow-
real and wonderful. Oh, Julia, dearest,
not Marianne, but Ma RENE you are
forever
He buried his head in her lap and
she stroked his dark hair gently-with
her other hand she softly drew the
cloth on the table over the pile Of
clothes and murmured: Eyes, dear.
we will forget the past, for you have
led me out of dreamland into my own
kingdom, where, like the story books,
I shall reign long and happy. N'est-ce
paS?" with a tender smile.
Sand now, George" she said, rising,
'like the true prince and princess, let
rs go deep into the great city this
Christmas eve and contribute all we
can to the happiness of our people.
For they are u own people," smiling
and touching his uniform. "Ginger,
take good care of the fire." she said
from the doorway. And, oh'-with a
twinkle in her eye, "give your paw to
your new master"
Ginger did so reluctantly. She had
seen puppies do this thing, and q
ashamed to copy it, but it pleased her
mistress, and that was the first de-
sire in her little fur head tonight
Alice Cary Williams.