Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-01-14
This Strange
Adventure
By Mary Roberts Rinehart


I sheepiSh. The crowd Went crazy. lney
came and came. In dozens, in hun
shook, the dock vibrated. A woman
tainted. Men shed shameless tears.
And at last Missile saw him. He had
grown: how big he looked, how strong,
| how wonderful. Her boy. Her grown
son. Eddie, Eddie.
He came on, looking right and left.
, He did not see them. Don't let him
pass. Stop him quickly. Stop him,
somebody.
Eddie! Eddiel"
The line stopped. He saw them. He
Mary Elizabeth, at her again.
Mother! Mother darling!"
He held her In his arms, his strong
young arms. He held her as II he
would never let her 60. And beside
her Mary Elizabeth stood waiting. She
knew that her time would come, that
eventually he would turn to her. She
stood by, waiting, her hand touching
the sleeve of his worn khaki coat.
A year later Missile was sitting In
church. The organist was playing
softly, and at Missiles elbow was a
great stand of white chrysanthemums,
tied with tulle. She was glad they
we're there: they protected her. But
when Eddie came out she moved a
little, so she could see him. She did
not see the procession as 1t came up
the aisle. She saw only Eddie.
Dearly beloved, We are gathered
here together in the sight of God"
She was standing up. The incredible
thing was happening. Eddie was being
married. She leaned rather heavily
But she did not hear all the service.
She was busy with her memories. But
when the organ pealed out she came to
with start and she smiled at them
as they passed her. She was very calm
and quite lovely at the reception later.
1t was handsome reception, with plenty
of champagne.
She waited there until Eddie had
gone-Eddie and Mary Elizabeth, of
course-and then she went home.
She was not unhappy. She had de-
veloped philosophy of life by that
time.
She knew how women deluded them
selves, believed as they climbed each
hill that they would find the promised
land waiting on the other side. And
that there was no promised land, unless
Ii lay in some vague hereafter.
She took up her life again, but she
felt older. Much older. One night dur
ing that time she looked in her mirror
and she saw that something had hap
pened to her throat. She had seen it
happening before to the Threats cf
women, especially of unloved women,
but now 1t had happened to her. 1t was
the Threats of women that died first.
With men 1t was the nape of the neck.
It withered. or it grew heavy; men
wrote their lives there, where they could
with women 1t was the throat.
She bought little jar of cream after
that, and at night she rubbed her
throat, as If she would rub away the
years, erase her life; and in the morn
ings she would look, and there was her
past again, etched as q copper, perma-
nent, betraying. She took to wearing
soft tulle ScarfS in the evenings, and
sometimes when people looked at her,
she would draw a fold across, under her
chin.
Fortunately she was busy. She was
giving her house to Eddie and Mary
Elizabeth. She had refurnisfed 1t for
than, and was taking the old Coifax
place for herself. Eileen and Tommy
were going to New York, with Palm
Beach in the Winter and Newport in
the Summer.
Adelaide was with her again-but now
1t was Missile who moved somberly about.
1t was she now who picked things up,
put them down again. Before they
left she went into Wesley's room, newly
furnished for the young people, and
stood there looking about her. The
big bed on which Wesley had died was
gone now. MY girl; my dear girl"
Her throat frightened, there was the old
construction about her heart.
She had moved before the children
came back from their wedding trip,
but she was never quite at home In the
old house. Adelaide loved It.
Missile settled down as best she could.
1t was like old times to hear Adelaide