"Now keep still, Allison. He was nice all the time; only I didn't like
him to want our Cloudy. He didn't seem to be quite nice enough for
her. He didn't quite fit her. But if she wanted him----"
"But I don't, Leslie," cried Julia Cloud in distress. "I _never_
did!"
"Are you really true, Cloudy, dear? You're such a dear, unselfish
Cloudy. How shall we ever quite be sure she isn't giving him up just
for us, Allison?"
"Children, listen!" said Julia Cloud, suddenly putting a quieting hand
on each young hand in her lap. "I'll tell you something I never told
to a living soul."
There was that in her voice that thrilled them into silence. It was as
if she suddenly opened the door of her soul and let them look in on
her real self as only God saw her. Their fingers tightened in sympathy
as she went on.
"A long time ago--a great many years ago--perhaps you would laugh and
think me foolish if you knew how many----"
"Oh, no, Cloudy, never!" said Leslie softly; and Allison growled a
dissenting note.
"Well--there was some one whom I loved--who died. That is all; only--I
never could love anybody that way again. Marriage without a love like
that is a desecration."
"O Cloudy! We never knew----" murmured Leslie.
"No one ever knew, dear. He was very young. We were both scarcely more
than children. I was only fourteen----"
"O Cloudy! How beautiful! And you have kept it all these years! Won't
you--tell us just a little about it? I think it is wonderful; don't
you, Allison?"
"Yes, wonderful!" said Allison in that deep, full tone of his that
revealed a man's soul growing in the boy's heart.
"There is very little to tell, dear. He was a neighbor's son. We went
to school together, and sometimes took walks on Saturdays. He rode me
on his sled, and helped me fasten on my skates, and carried my books;
and we played together when we had time to play. Then his people moved
away out West; and he kissed me good-by, and told me he was coming
back for me some day. That was all there was to it except a few little
letters. Then they stopped, and one day his grandmother wrote that he
had been drowned saving the life of a little child. Can you understand
why I want to wait and be ready for him over there where he is gone? I
keep feeling God will let him come for me when my life down here is
over."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account