San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1925-08-11

ZION as CnOugn IL were d
white angel the little girl
had seen weeping on the
stairs.
She wanted to ask about
it; to say: .Marmee. were you cry
ing last night in the dark? ] thought
you were"
But just as she got ready, an oriole
whistlcd. Margaret started as though
the sound let loose all chords of music
in the world. Suddenly she flung her
arms about the child. Her eyes we're
wet on Nora Lees face.
You're crying so much?'
"Because-oh, because / love you
So"
Her feelings we're those tremulous
and melting things, more pain than JOY
that deep, deep love with all its
fibers strung in anguished tenderness.
She longed now only to say some
gentle word-let him know that she
was glad. She looked at his anxious
face; at his deep, anxious eyes. She
murmured: Dear Andrew, don't look
like this for me. / am glad to give
glad"
He turned his face. They walked
on silently between the trees.
Then Margaret spoke again: Il am
enriched, Andrew, to know such love
as yours.%
He bent his head until his lips closed
on her eyes. He said: Margaret
how can I go back? / can not"
She reached up her hand and
stopped his words: "We have these
hours = think of them - only of
them
A LIES DREAM. o..
A lifetime Margaret Meadows
dreamed of love. At IS these two
weeks were given her. In two weeks
the dream would be done. She would
90 north to the desolate Butte valley,
where a school was Offered her.
In two weeks, Andrew would return
to Fairdale, to the big white house
and the white lady in the garden. They
went pitifully TO this fate, ultimate
and booming as death.
Margaret said with breaking voice:
I'VE have stolen this, Andrew-yct
1t is ours. l know it because of the
peace ] feel. 1t is greater than the
sorrow"
From whom have we stolen? j
have paid all the debts owe! These
hours and all 1 have are yours, Mar
garet, whether you take them or
not"
She touched his hand gently and
closed her eyes.
Andrew took a shack near the
stream. He brought them mountain
trout. Often they got up early in
the morning, when the air had that
uplifting, joyous touch. They walked
up the trails. They packed lunch
and went into the forest.
Nora Lee was no longer afraid that
these two would run away and leave
her behind. She tucked her hand in
Andrews, making him stop whenever
a bird sang. Then he would cock
his head on the side and initiate the
sweet, wild music. His eyes turned
merrily. Then she knew he wasn't
old at all.
She said: You're so funny, An
drew, when you look like that. l
wish we'd stay forever and ever. Why
don't we?"
No one answered. A word like that
car flinging against their hearts
with the stark, immutable tragedy OF
parting-the lifelong farewell. They
had not courage to meet each others
eyes.
BUILDING MEMORIES
They we're so bound with love and
angr'sh now. Sometimes Andrew
pressed her hand, or passing under
trees, their cheeks would touch. 1t
was as though song burst upon
them. She would find tears in his
eyes. The hours were filled with
these heart-piercinS harmonies.
Until it grew inconceivable that
they must tear themselves apart. She
looked at his eager, winning face, at
the touch of gray in his brown hair.
She laughed at his lean, supple
strength as he swung Nora Lee from
a tree.
And il was suddenly borne upon her
the shame and cruelty Of Andrews
fpte-far more blasting than her own.
She had the beloved child. But more
than this, she was going into the flu
ture alone. All her life she might
keep as holy, secrrt flame the mem
Continued on Page IS, Part p !