The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1925-07-06
Chapter XVI
Awakening

t~1 HERE was no light in the
room. The oak table where
Chickie sat was all in shad-
ow Yet there seemed a glow;
a murmuring about her like echoes
of some luminous song.
Her hands lay folded in her lap.
She felt a warmth and brightness
now like a rush of tears to her
throat; and now like a joy or a
proud smile touching her lips.
She said, oh and raised her
head as though she saw a thing of
beauty; saw faith and hope before
her.
She walked about the room with
light, delicate STEP Yes-open
doors; she could. Well, she would.
Hard grade road, but quiet and
strong and she would make it
Jake said she must, and he stood
before her, royal fellow that he was,
saying so easily: Look at life free
", Helena dear, as you did a few
years ago when that grand old wind
of yours was to come sweeping
over hilltops-''
She heard the rich, throaty voice;
felt the clasp of the strong hand.
Oh-he was princely coming to her
like that She had for Jake a feel
ing of gratitude that was akin to
worship. The way he raised her
face wiping the tears-why, she
cried now, remembering it. He said
c1o lo 20
would make him glad to trust her
so. She felt brave for anything.
Her emotion raised her to this
state of tremulous exaltation. But
it was a sexless thing; as much SO
as her devotion to Jonathan.
There had been a time when
Jake's black, flashing eyes looking
at her SO warmly had stirred her
subtly though against her will. That
night when he wanted so to kiss
her; when he caught her hands and
his lips were afiame moving over her
palms-that night she was half ter.
rified because Of the breathless thrill
stealing so pervasively upon her.
1t was her spirit now that had
been touched-not her heart Love,
with it's tunult and it's wild expec-
lance, she would never feel again.
Oh-she was sure of this. That last
door Jake spoke of was closed
closed always.
There was a sense Of finality about
Chickies thoughts. She had sc
wanted sweetness; so wanted joy
Love had been as life to her. Love
had been the glory and the dream.
SO much so indeed that when she
found it gone there had come an
utter darkness, as though living, too
was finished. Coming here to Chi
cago she had gone to work, she had
taken walks, she had read .
but all this she did without vivid
ness, as an automaton might. And
for months she dwelt in this mute
ness; in this gray and brooding soil
tude.
That was no way to do! Jake
made her feel it's weakness; made it
seem all petty-a selfish, cowardly
way to 60 Oh-there were others
in the world oh, it didn't matter
that she had suffered some. If the
gladness for others; punches Of dali
sizes for a few old ladies', or smile
to an old man dying. Hers wasn't
the only heart with grief for a
lodger Learn that!
So he gave her an impulse to live;
gave her a reason to laugh. 1t al
tered her vision-made her even
welcome the coming Of days.
She missed him. The day after
he left it seemed SO empty-so very
still-oh, lonelier much than 1t had
been before. She went over scenes,
recalled words. She sat at her table
and wrote letters, one to Jake, an
other to herself
Childish thing to do, but she want
ed to grip with both hands on this
new strength she had a moment
glimpsed She wanted to bind her
self; keep Jake and the heartening
things he said close in her thoughts.
She wrote:
Dear Jake: I have the daisies
ready and am now securing the by
ways for some nice, decrepit old
man; startle him back to life with
the most radiant smile. When you
come again there shall await you
tho oociaSt faroiIU of venerable old