Mystery fiction; Race relations -- Fiction; Southern States -- Fiction
"Well! Well! Well!" The old man rose with a great show of welcome and
came forward. "'May I come in?' How d'ye do, Mary, God bless you, child;
yes, come clear in," he said, laughing, and bestowed a kiss upon her
lips. At that moment he caught sight of the face of Edward, who stood
behind her, pale from the stream of light that came from a white crest
in the window. The two men gazed steadily into each other's eyes a
moment only. The girl began:
"This is Mr. Morgan, general, who has been such a friend to father."
The rugged face of the old soldier lighted up, he took the young man's
hands in both of his and pressed them warmly.
"I have already met Mr. Morgan. The friend of my friend is welcome to
'The Cedars'." He turned to move chairs for them.
The face of the young man grew white as he bowed gravely. There had been
a recognition, but no voice spoke from the far-away past through his
lineaments to that lonely old man. During the visit he was distrait and
embarrassed. The courtly attention of his host and his playful gallantry
with Mary awoke no smile upon his lips. Somewhere a barrier had fallen
and the waters of memory had rushed in. Finally he was forced to arouse
himself.
"John Morgan was a warm friend of mine at one time," said the old
general. "How was he related to you?"
"Distantly," said Edward quietly. "I was an orphan, and indebted to him
for everything."
"An eccentric man, but John had a good heart--errors like the rest of
us, of course." The general's face grew sad for the moment, but he
rallied and turned the conversation to the political campaign.
"A grand speech that, Mr. Morgan; I have never heard a finer, and I have
great speakers in my day! Our district will be well and honorably
represented in Congress. Now, our little friend here will go to
Washington and get her name into the papers."
"No, indeed. If papa wins I am going to stay with mamma. I am going to
be her eyes as well as her hands. Mamma would not like the city."
"And how is the little mamma?"
She shook her head. "Not so well and her eyes trouble her very much."
"What a sweet woman she is! I can never forget the night Norton led her
to the altar. I have never seen a fairer sight--until now," he
interpolated, smiling and saluting Mary with formal bow. "She had a
perfect figure and her walk was the exposition of grace." Mary surveyed
him with swimming eyes. She went up and kissed him lightly. He detained
her a moment when about to take her departure.
"You are a fortunate man, Morgan. In all the world you will find no
rarer flower than this. I envy you your ride home. Come again, Mary, and
bring Mr. Morgan with you." She broke loose from him and darted off in
confusion. He had guessed her secret and well was it that he had!
The ride home was as a dream. The girl was excited and full of life and
banter and Edward, throwing off his sadness, had entered into the hour
of happiness with the same abandon that marked his campaign with Norton.
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