Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-06-13
A Woman's Wish.

Mother. You're not darnins thos'
old stockings"
They're not old. dear. And They're
far too good to throw away. You l
never notice the mended place. In
taking lots of pains.
Il know" Edith laid her hand or
the slender dropping shoulder. thel
lifted it to her mothers white hail
and rearranged lock tenderly. But
dearest had laid those away tC
70 to the cook II don't have tc
wear darned stockings now and you
most certainly don't have to darn
them. She was instantly sorry that
she had said this when she saw the
faint tremor of pain that crossed he1
:~cthers delicate face. Come" she
went - brightly Put away your
~ork and go with Marc and me-
We're going for a run into town
lunch at the Spafford Inn and bit
C. shopping afterward. It's too glorl-
GUS a morning to spend indoors.
Again that faint tremor. Mrs. Sher-
man glanced from the window at the
big gray car, then up at her
daughters questioning face.
Dear child. If you will just go
without me. 1--we got some little
things 1 want to do. /" she
paused.
Nonsense! Come, mother"
Mrs. Sherman sighed.
I'D rather stay here" but she
half arose.
Edith bit her lip. Mother certainly
behaved most provokingl. at times.
Never mind. Stay if you choose.
OF course. l want you to do what you
like best" she said rather shortly and
ran out of the room, struggling with
tears of disappointment.
Wouldn't she Gomez" Marc Lester
a ked as his wife appeared. Edith
merely shook her head in silence.
AS her husband drove toward town
she sat beside him thinking about
her mother. She felt that she no
longer understood her mother. Now
that Mares new affluence made 1t
possible for them to do everything
for Mrs. Sherman she see..led willing
to accept no more than she had in
the past. 1t was not that mother was
old or i'll: mother with her lovely
spirit could never be old or i'll. 1t was
simply a pronounced Indifference to
the things that Edith found so de-
lightful-the motor trips. the charm
ing dinner parties, the fine house
with it's beautiful furniture and
obliging servants.
She was as disappointed as child
in not having her mother with her.
Then a pretty thought came to her
Why not take a bit of town back
home to mother? If she could find
the thing she wanted!
She did find the very thing she
wanted in an exclusive shop-a gown
Of dull blue with a touch of lace,
CLEAN of rhinestones. Think of moth
Iph
waved, She would be beautiful. Her
heart was light as they sped home
ward
Carving the box she ran upstairs
to mothers room. Mother sat in the
sunny window knitting lace. Knitting
lace! She arose and kissed her daugh-
ter. And then Edith took the dress
from the box.
For you, dearest! Put it on. Let
me see if it fits"
It did fit. But that odd little tremor
crossed mothers face as she looked
down at the rich breadths, touching
lace and ornaments with her small,
crooked -fingered hand.
Its lovely. But-I've never worn
color, you know, dear, since your
father died Won't it look foolish on
an old woman like me? Besides. it
must have cost a lot of moLey?"
what difference does that maker"
Edith cried, almost sharply. Money
8 of no consequence if you are
pleased"
you are sweet, dear, and Marc is
But mothers face did not
light because of the gift. Il had
company. Sally came over to lunch.
We had it up here-on tray. l
IL ught you wouldn't mind"
"Of course mott You're to do exact
ly as you please in this house" But
Edith felt again that wave OF disap-
pointment. She had failed again to
reach her mother.
She went downstairs and out upon
the porch, where she sat down to
think. But unable to reason things
out she sprang up presently and ran
down the street and round the corner
and through lane until she came TO
a low, old-fashioned white house with
a trellis over the door. Here on the
doorstone knitting lace which looked
oddly familiar sat stout, swe2t-faced
woman, who smiled welcome through
her glasses.
Dear Mrs. Rollins, you are moth
er's dearest and oldest friend. Can
YOU tell me what's the matter with
herr"
"Why, there isn't a single living
thing the matter with your mother,
Edith. She's as we'll as | am. and
that's saying good deal"
"Oh. yes, know her health's good.
It isn't that. It's-oh, Mrs. Rollinsi
You know how / love my mother and
how I want to repay her fer all she
has done for me, and how willing and
oil q
things she has had to do without all
her life. When we go in the new car
she prefers to stay at home. When
/ buy her pretty things she does not
enjoy them. Nothing / do seems to
give her pleasure. 1t is a tragedy.
ItJis breaking my heart" Edith's
head went down with sob.
The older woman patted her head
gently.
You're making too much of it,
Edith" Mrs Rollins said. Il guess
maybe it's because you don't under
stand your mother as we'll as l do.
We're old together, you see, just as
we were young together. / know how
poor your folks always were. Your
father did his best, but he was never
a great Garner. Your mother had to
skimp and save. Probably you didn't
KNOW NOW InuCLIy DuL guess yOul
mother had to cut all the corners
while she was bringing you up. OF
course you're grateful as any loving
child would be, and now that Mares
making so much money you want to
heap your mother with favors. You
want to make her dreams come true.
Sse's been showing me things today
that you've given her, and if you
could see how she cherishes them.
how proud she is to be remembered.
But she doesn't really want fine lace
and sable neckpieces. l shouldn't
wonder if most of the things you do
for her are way over her head like
that music you took us to hear the
other evening. 1t was mostly sounds
to me till they played Home, Sweet
Home"
AS the older woman talked Edith
lifted her head. looking into those
L. III