The Glenwood post., 1924-01-24

On, It was unthlnkable; 30 the famlly
had warned her. And their warnings
had but added to her feeling Of re-
lease, her joyous sense Of conquest,
when she had gone to her man.
Four years ago-and now It was all
overt Her mother had no better word
for 1t than to call 1t an unfortunate
affair, that marriage and the divorce
she was waiting for. No better word
for those four brimming years Of life.
Only that, for the first glad confidence
of having found her mate; for the
happy making of the little home; for
her pride in her Michael. That, for the
daily growing loneliness, the feeling OF
being cut off from her own world; for
the slowly creeping reserves between
them that had been swept away, at
lessening intervals, by the re-blossom-
ing of their love; that-for quarrels
and kisses, for bitter words and re-
pentant cheek to cheek, for the hours
that he was away from her and his
increasing absorption in his work and
her unreasonable Jealousy Of it; for
the crowning moments of their re
pledged love-oh, for all Of 1t, every
thing; Not great things; not even
great things, but little things that
totaled so disastrously high; and. at
last, for her conviction that their mar
riage had been mistake that they
were not meant for each other, that
the only thing to do was to end it, to
end it. Then. her flight; her communi-
eating with him through the man who
took cases like hers; and, at last
Miriam's.
Now for a month she had been here,
where she had thought peace must
dwell; been here watching spring
come, watching Miriam, thinking. Sap
rising, birds on the wing Miriam, work
ing; Anita-thinking Miriam plowing,
Miriam at work in the garden, sowing
early peas, digging parsnips and TAX
ing share to the house next door and
leaving them on the doorstep; Anita
watching, thinking Miriam and her
father, that old man who gave her no
pleasant word. nor helped in her
tasks; the old man with snarl, bit
ter name for her sometimes; the old
man sitting in the sun, or in the win
dow with Bible on his knees; Miriam
serene In the kitchen, humming, tramp
ing from stove to table; Anita-idle,
thinking. The COW lowing for her calf !;
Miriam carrying a brimming pail Of
milk across the grass to the house next
door. the girl there who went in when
she saw her coming with the gift !;
Anita-remembering Michael, his OBJ
birds nesting; Miriam running to a
child who had stumbled on the road,
wiping the tears from its face; Anita
thinking, of the children Michael had
wanted, and she had not. The clod =
youth next door. and the stone he
threw at Miriam, and the way she
smiled when she put hot water on the
cut; Anita-thinking thinking of the
wounds of the spirit that she had kept
to herself and resented. thinking,
thinking.
"You aren't much like other women, "
| Miriam said to her one day, when she
had come back from leaving another
| thankless gift at the house next door
"You never ask any questions"
"Well-you aren't much like other
women, yourself" Anita answered.
But Miriam laughed, tossed back q
stray lock of hair and said."Oh, yes
am! That's just exactly what l am y
The old man muttered an ugly
name; Anita watched Miriam, watched
the swelling apple buds, thought
Thoughts that were bruises, memories
that famed and scared; questionings
that would not be answered. no helI
from the nights or days. no bread OF
understanding, no water Of comfort
| So had the weeks passed.
The day the letter came she went
out after supper and sat on the door
step. A young moon had left the night
to the radiance of cleaning stars; the
tender sweetness of the air was
pierced by the song of the little frogs
caroling their return to life, and the
sadness of past summers, and the Joy
Of the summer to come; the fragrance
of the drying fields was like an in
cense A world browsing, yet stirring
to resurrection Michael
at work. Of course later the
opening of door and the nights all
coming in; his step on the stairs ant
the way-the way-Oh! Mono!
Miriam's skirt was brushing Anita's
shoulder. "What night!" she said
There was basket in her hand. "Don't
you want to walk down the road?
have an errand. A man who does worl
for me sometimes is in trouble"
They went side by side through the
song and the incense and the starlight
Miriam intent upon her errand, Anita
remembering. thinking. They went
through the village, and those they
met passed them by as though they
were shadows they came to house
on hillside beyond. low. poor house
where lamp shone from within. A
man came to the door his eyes in his
unshaven face looked as though some