The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1920-03-25
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The Wait

The Wait
There was a quiet urge in her veins
that took her to John Lexington. 1t
was Il gray-fealiicred night in spring.
and she refused to turn back. John
held her hands in his. and could not
accept as real the great beauty of the
world. He had been writing verses as
usual when she came to his door. and
the gentle lines were as always Of her.
his Mary, his unattainahle. Now the
flame that he loved ShOne forth in her.
She threaded her destiny with his. In
the dim. dusty hallway outside his
door he found her arms about his
neck, and that Spr!ngtide evening
lowered in their kiss.
Mary would not go back. Her family.
the proper Martins. had e>tranSei her
when they refused to receive the man
of her choice. Tile fact that his verse
had once appeared in print served only
to whet their d%isappr"val. He could
not make three hundred a year that
way. They would have no more of
him, and no further talk. y shining
new and silent electric had been
brought to the p0rte-coclicre. and
'ong-deSired pearls appeared OF her
drc%ssing-table. These gifts and their
bald object won only a storm from
Mary. When size had locked her
mother from the pom. and had lain
upon the floor to think and resent.
tlle spring twilight had found her. had
touched her cheek and raised her
from the rug. 1t whispered to her,
and caused again the familiar tulnuIt
in her heart. John, her poet. Twi-
light pressed the barb of desire in her
flesh; her thoughts were bit1cr-SWeet.
She admitted to herself that it was
not his writing she wanted. for he
might not be a great poet. She for
got his delicate praise OF her eyes.
her light-brown hair, her young limbs.
All of that might fade some day. She
loved him the most for their moments
of silence. So, while the last robin
of the day caroled outside Of her
window. anA-ihe soft dusk sank upon
the trees and lawn. she Obeyed her
W heart, and went to him.
II will work." he said. when they
went gaily down the stairs of the
rooming-house.
You will write, John" she said.
Eyes, and work will! my hands, too.
for wages. l can make a song Of it,"
"Where Shall we go now!" she
asked.
Before another sunset they had for
who had sanctioned their JOY.
They went to a small Michigan
town. John worked in a stove fac
tory, and came home each night with
grimy face and bruised hands. to a
small house that was lit with lappi-
ness. Mary was in Il shining dream.
The world was a place of beauty and
tenderness and passion. Johns day
labor was something to laugh at. He
vas strong, and his bench-mates never
suspected him of writing poetry. With
his beloved he would go downtown
on the summer evenings. carrying a
basket. to buy groceries. They found
delight in simple things in this small
Dowagiac. Michigan. Their cottage
was radiant with cleanliness. John
grew robust from his work. His pale
blue eyes shown with a light from
within. He took lightly the mistakes
that often cost him a days wages.
There was enough. To him the uni
verse was overlooking with sunlight.
Tho police came. but went away,
smiling and powerless. Then the old
butler from Mary's house came. and
they kept him overnight. until he for
go his errand of malice aud found
himself gripping tie hand of John
Lexington when they parted. The
butler lost his position. and later
Mary's father came Her mother.
also. hut the mother remained in the
railway station. refusing TO set eyes