The Pleasantville press. (Pleasantville, N.J.) 1912-1929, 1920-07-10
FORGIVENESS
BY WHITE.

tSSOt Western newspaper OnlJ4-
An automobile stopped before the
stone gates of the great house and a
beautiful woman's face showed
through Its windows. Then the woman
arose with decision and stepped from
the car.
Return to the hotel" she saia to
the chauffeur. 81 shall be here for
some time"
And I will call for your" the man
asked.
when I telephone" she told him.
She paused before a picturesque
~gate-keeper's lodge, now unattended.
This was undoubtedly the little house
OF the story; she would go on to the
large n for further details.
The lodge-keeper's cottage bespoke
years of disuse.
And then H%ildegard Brand rang the
doorbell and waited. 1t was not a SER
want who answered her summons, but
a little old lady, a miniature white
haired lady, standing proudly erect.
Come in" she invited. "My hus-
band and | are honored to have this
visit. The name of Hildegard Brand
Is well known and If a view of our en-
vironment may help, as you suggest,
to give local color for one of your
stories, we will be more than pleased.
My husband is in the drawing ROOM"
The authoress, %ensconced on the
faded tapestry of an old lounge, gazed
with shadows deepening in her eyes.
"And you have lived here alwaysT"
she said slowly.
always" the old lady replied. 81
was born here; it has been the family
home for ages. My husband made it
his, with our marriage.
"The future showed much promise
for my young husband, and he made
the promise true" she added.
The old gentleman, reclining in an
invalid's chair, smiled wanly.
"Isobel is loyal" he said, his face
saddened. But the promise faithfully
worked for-failed only at last"
"Yours was a bank failure, was 1t
not?" the writer asked gently.
The old mar nodded.
Everything went at once" he re-
piled.
His wife looked up appealingly.
Sometimes when l look back owe
my life" she said, sit seems that every
promise ended but in failure. There
was Douglas, our only child. We have
been thinking of him more today, be-
cause-wherever he is-it is his birth
day. We had looked for much happi-
ness in Douglas; from babyhood to
manhood he was all that a mother
could desire. And then"
disappointment" asked the author
ess, her question soft as a whisper.
1T was a girl" she said, "a common
lodge-keeper's daughter. We had
never IN our ambitious plans antici-
pated this danger. The girls name was
Daisy Moore, and the poetic picture of
her. I think. caught our sons fancy.
The hopelessness of years was In
the mothers tone.
"He took Daisy away with him and
married her." she said.
"a young mi of position among
u own acquaintances was but wait
ing the word to accept Douglas" the
old man put in brusquely. "She would
have been a great help to him in his
profession. We had spared no expense
in preparing Douglas for his career as
an artist-and 1 had plenty of money
TO back him."
"Yet he gave 1t all up" Hildegard
Brand said dreamily, "for this Daisy"
"They came" the mother went on,
"and settled in a bare room called a
studio. And one day-while Douglas
was still foolishly happy, his Daisy
went away and left him. Disappeared
as completely as though she had never
BEEN
"She left a letter." the old lady went
on, Saying that 1t would be useless TO
try and find her, as she intended to
lose her identity in the working world
Of a big city. The reason she gave,
with an assurance of her undying love
for my son, was that she had learned
that she was but a bar to his success.
She had not realized this, she wrote,
when she married him."
"How," asked the a%uthoress, could
she have imagined that cruel thingT
1.-THE thing was not imaginary the
old man said. "Isobel explained this
fact to her when she called here, wish
ing to become reconciled to her nus
bands family. Isobel told the girl that
the difference in our positions made
that impossible-Douglas was now but
her own equal. When his wife failed
to return from her wanderings, we
sent for Douglas and would have taken
him back, but he left us in anger go
ing on a wild and never ending search
Of his wife"
Hildegard Brand arose and came
toward the hopeless couple. As she
laid aside her hat with its dropping
brim, smiling at them through her
tears. something like awakened mem
DRY shone in the wrinkled faces.
ssxNr.,011 100, no far0iufnO than