Palisadian., 1925-11-27

him; something that might ten hlu
she had not departed without an an
swer to his prayer. And thus 1t hap
pened that he was present at the sale
of her little property and was the
highest bidder for the old-time ma
hogany desk, which the auctioneer
described and put up for sale with
irreverent harangue. And because of
the sacredness attaching to the things
that had been hers-to the things as
sociated with the bygone days of their
love-he bought her books and her
clock; her ivory-type portrait of her.
self as girl; her little cushioned
rocking chair, and the old piano
with its brass-mounted legs and it's
candle racks-upon which she used
to play for him the sweet melodies Of
the long ago as they sat alone in the
dim light and quietude of loves hap
piness
"Two-fifty I'm offered for this parrot
and the cage" shouted the auctioneer
in noisy fluency, breaking in upon the
doctors wandering thoughts. do
hear three dollars? Two-fifty, two.
fifty! Do | hear three? Three dollars
am offered three dollars is bid; 60
ing at three dollars!' he sang on. in
terpreting an undersigned nod on the
part of the doctor as a bid at the
higher figure. "Going-going at three
dollars! Three dollars Going. going
gone Ito Doctor Hartman"
The doctor started in surprise and
was about to protest. as the cage with
the parrot was brought forward and
placed with the other things he had
bought. Checking himself, however, in
order to avoid possible controversy, he
accepted the situation without COM
ment. He had not meant to buy the
bird, nor did he want it. 1t had for
him no association with Ann Motley;
for, in truth, according to the state
ment of the auctioneer, it was COM
paratively recent acquisition. Never
theless, it was now his; and thinking
to dispose of 1t in time to some one
who might care for it, he had it taken
In the solitude of his library, breath
ing now an atmosphere Of another
presence and of other days, he opened
her desk. With trembling hands and
with disquieting sense Of profana-
tion, every drawer, every recess was
carefully, tenderly, explored; but his
search was fruitless. There was moth
ing-nothing for him; no message, no
word, no token. not even his own let
ters, to comfort him with the belief
that she had retained some lingering
regard for his memory. Was it then
true, as his embittered soul had feared.
that she had gone without loving him,
without remembering, without forgiv
ing him?
He closed the desk and sank upon
his knees. A convulsive sob shook
his bent frame; and, throwing himself
forward, he buried his face in his arms
upon the little rocking chair that had
once been hers.
About him were the deepening shad-
ows of twilight and the hush of even
tide. The old furniture of Ann Mot
ley, with Its generations of hallowed
memories lent a mellow Sanctity to
the stiffness of the room; and in the
enshrouding calmness, with the face
of sweet Ann Motley looking down
upon him from the desk beside him,
his heart poured forth its anguish in
silent, sobbing tears.
Then suddenly voice, low and
quavering, and seemingly afar off,
broke softly upon the shadowed 81
lence:
Grant, Oh. Lord, that he may
yet come back to me and know
that l love and forgive him."
For moment after the voice had
ceased the doctor remained motion
less. The slight flutter of wings and
the tapping of a beak upon the bars
of a cage alone disturbed the ensuing
quiet. Then, raising his head, the doc
sudden fervency, and as his eyes were
lifted up to heaven, filed with the
light of a strange awakening, smile
of illumining peace shone upon his
countenance; and as spirit communing
with spirit his face grew beautiful
in the softening radiance of revela-
ton, and upon his parted lips there
trembled a soul-uttered prayer-an
answering message of love and thanks
giving.