Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1932-05-29
This Story, With First Publication in
The Sunday Stars Magazine, Has a
Washington Angle-HbaTaleo of
Love, Which Proceed Strong Enough to
Break through Mighty Barriers
other First-Run Story NH AbPear in
Next Sunday SMagazine.

side of the aisles to the chancel and the color
of the flowers was emphasized in the color
of the beautiful gowns in the glow OF priceless
Jewels.
It was the wedding night of Helen Matt
land and Malcolm Southern and the building
was filled to the doors with guests, now grow
ing restless. for the bride was keeping them
waiting longer than was usual under such cir
cumstances, but sudden hush fell upon them.
and there was pause in the lowtoned music
the clergyman came into the chancel and
looked out over the crowded church. For a
space he stood silent. his eyes upon q slip Of
paper in his hand. Then he said in q voice
far from steady, for Malcolm Southern was his
friend:
There will be marriage I ask those
present to disperse quietly"
And Malcolm, in a daze OF unbelief passed
through the vestry door out into the night.
Within the hour extras were upon the street
with the news that Helen Maitland with the
man who had become her husband in the
parsonage Of st. Marks Church, across the
city from old St Johns, had left Union
Station for New York and an extended trip
around the world
Driven by despair, bounded by the thought
that the woman he loved had failed him.
Malcolm Southern left Washington the night
that was the end Of the world for him He had
no coherent idea as to where he would go, but
out Of the numbness of his brain the place
finally came to him. A trail leading to a
cabin far up mountain side There In the
Canadian Rockies, he thought, as far as
thought controlled him, he could find endur-
ance. The greatness. the majesty of the
mountains would still the tempest in his soul;
teach him to forget; help him to retain his
manhood. Later he wondered how he had
remembered the place for it long had been
forgotten in more immediate interests. Just
shack Summer quarters to which he had
gone with one or two congenial companions
for a few weeks hunting to become later
refuge from curiosity and the pity of his
friends.
He was still in his wilderness hiding place
standing in his doorway. gazing with unseeing
eye across the canyon to the ridge Of peaks
that fronted his cabin. Behind him curl Of
smoke rose straight into the clear air from the
great rock chimney he had built with infinite
care, for the 10-foot shack that had once
stood upon the spot had given way to cabin
somewhat out Of the ordinary, larger, more
commodious, with two wings connected by
covered porch This had been built with the
help OF few Indians who had slipped from
the reservation and had camped one Summer
in the canyon. 1t was in toll he found the
blessing Of forgetfuness; wearied at night by
unaccustomed labor he would sleep the sleep
of exhaustion and oblivion.
Yet the scene he was viewing with such un-
seeing eyes was one worth while, its beauty
breath taking quaking aspens. blue spruce
and fir clothing the steep sides Of the canyon
to the rock-strewn bed of the stream the sur
rounding mountain peaks, purple, gray, for
bidding, their tops snow covered, and far
away the CLINT of a glacier as the sun struck
an angle of ice. His thoughts were with the
man gone to meet the unwelcome guests who
might be expected at any moment Again the
woman was coming into his life-coming un-
asked. unwanted seeking him in the place
that had become refuge from thoughts Of
her
| e had recently learned that she had been
widow for almost the number Of years he
had lived in his mountain home and as he watt
ed in the presence Of the mountains that had
helped to his recovery to sane thought that
even now seemed to hold benediction there
was sound OF stone crashing down into the
canyon and he heard q complaining voice.
I'VE gods, that a brother of mine should 50
fortify himself against his people"
laugh greeted the words a laugh that made
the waiting man stiffen. 1t brought back too
poignant memories.
Surely it cannot be-" he thought to himself,
for even with the laugh in his ears he found It
difficult to believe she had sought him out. So
he waited for the voice that matched the laugh
he had known so wen, shaken in spite Of his iron
determination to meet her as he would a
stranger. When it reached him he hesitated
as If to make sure of himself before going for
ward for it was the same voice, with the same
infections, the same lghtness of tone, the same
hesitancy of speech that had always intrigued
him.
Can you blame him? Look at that skyline.
those jagged peaks, that glimpse of rushing
water far down. And the air is a tonic"
"'Wen," his sister replied, lit may be tonic
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