The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1934-03-23
Part Two
CHAPTER II-Continued

CHAPTER II-Continued
s.
They were quiet after that. jamie
had no words to express the singing
in her heart Father understood. His
hand was stroking her hair. She
could feel his fingers, gentle, cares
sing, but very weak. jamie felt holy
sort of happiness. The chimes were
ringing for Christmas !.
Look here, young lady," Doctor
Alden opened the door. Somebody
else wants a chance"
"Good night, Father" she kissed his
cheek.
"Good night, baby" He smiled.
"a happy Christmas"
ut will be, Father Good night"
She couldn't go back into Mothers
room. She wanted to be alone.
The corridor was dim and quiet.
The sill of the window was wide and
deep. JAMIE curled herself up in a
ball with her cheek against the pane.
The sky was sprinkled with frosty
stars. The windows Of the Catholic
church made splashes of color across
the snow. The bells were Ginning for
Christmas. Life was lovely. The
world was a beautiful place.
"Thank you, Cod" she whispered
from the depths of grateful heart.
They stood on the hospital steps,
Celia and jamie and Hugh, with a
radiance about them. Celia wore an
uplifted expression. Hugh's eyes had
lost their haunted look. jamie like a
candle lighted for Christmas eve.
The windows of the Catholic church
made splashes of color on the snow.
LETS go in" jamie suggested. She
glanced up at them quickly to see If
they were smiling.
They weren't smiling. They walked
across the street to the church, up
the narrow aisle, Celia and jamie and
Hugh, with a radiance about them.
They entered a pew at the front and
knelt facing the altar. Above them
the chimes were ringing for Christ
mas.
Hugh thought Of Doctor Billiards.
words, "It's all right, my boy. 1 I'M
derstand." He thought of how he
would try to deserve the Doctors con-
fidence. Nothing mattered so much as
that. What was Cola thinking as she
knelt there beside him, her face lifted
to the Pickering candle flames? Would
he ever be permitted to share her
thoughts? She eluded him, some
how. Her loneliness was will-o-the-
wisp. Was he too clumsy to capture
it? She nestled close against him. He
breathed the fragrance of her hair.
There was hammering in his ears
He loved her, he loved her SO much !.
Celia was thinking of Father. She
was glad, so glad he was better. That
proved that it wasn't her fault. She
was the blue-robed saint in niche
near the altar. The gaudy colors were
softened by the candle light. The
saint in her gilded niche reminded
her Of painting she once had seen.
When Hugh took her abroad she
would see the paintings of Botticelli.
She felt Hugh's eyes fixed upon her.
Was he thinking that she looked like
the blue-robed saint in the golden
niche? She moved a little closer to
him. She felt that he was trembling.
How terribly he loved her. More than
she loved him. Her lips curved in a
remote ethereal smile. She wore her
saint Cecilia" expression.
JAMIE was filed with a happiness
too high and too holy for thought.
Her hazel eyes lifted to the candles
on the altar were brighter than the
jets Of golden fame Her grave little
face was entirely unconscious of the
exalted expression it wore. The hap
piness was pain. 1t hurt her even
to breathe. Her heart grew larger and
larger. She had to share it with
somebody. She glanced shyly up at
Hugh, wanting to share with him this
aching happy emotion. Hugh was
looking at Celia with all of his heart
in his eyes.
JAMES, eyes returned to the altar
candles. The Jets of flame had
changed. They were crosses, golden
crosses, staggering through a mist Of
radiance in blurred uneven line.