The best short stories of 1919, and the yearbook of the American short story
General
The best short stories of 1919, and the yearbook of the American short story
American fiction -- 20th century; Short stories -- 20th century -- Bibliography; Short stories -- 20th century -- Indexes; Short stories, American
"Did I promise eternal fidelity? I can hardly remember that far back.
But I remember I wept a great deal, and my parents assured me you were
either dead or a rascal, so that tears could not help either way. Then
Ralph de Nointel came along, good man, and made me a fair husband, as
husbands go--"
"As for that stream," then said Dame Melicent, "it is often I have
thought of that stream, sitting here with my grandchildren where I once
sat with gay young men whom nobody remembers now save me. Yes, it is
strange to think that instantly, and within the speaking of any simple
word, no drop of water retains the place it held before the word was
spoken; and yet the stream remains unchanged, and stays as it was when I
sat here with those young men who are gone. Yes, that is a strange
thought, and it is a sad thought, too, for those of us who are old."
"But, Mother, of course the stream remains unchanged," agreed Dame
Adelaide. "Streams always do except at high water. Everybody knows that,
and I see nothing remarkable about it. As for you, Florian, if you
stickle for love's being an immortal affair," she added, with a large
twinkle, "I would have you know I have been a widow for three years. So
the matter could be arranged."
Florian looked at her sadly. To him the situation was incongruous with
the terrible archness of a fat woman.
"But, madame, you are no longer the same person."
She patted him upon the shoulder.
"Come, Florian, there is some sense in you, after all. Console yourself,
lad, with the reflection that if you had stuck manfully by your wife
instead of mooning about graveyards, I would still be just as I am
to-day, and you would be tied to me. Your friend probably knew what he
was about when he drank to our welfare, for we should never have suited
each other, as you can see for yourself. Well, Mother, many things fall
out queerly in this world, but with age we learn to accept what happens
without flustering too much over it. What are we to do with this
resurrected old lover of mine?"
It was horrible to Florian to see how prosaically these women dealt with
his unusual misadventure. Here was a miracle occurring virtually before
their eyes, and these women accepted it with maddening tranquillity as
an affair for which they were not responsible. Florian began to reflect
that elderly persons were always more or less unsympathetic and
inadequate.
"First of all," said Dame Melicent, "I would give him some breakfast.
He must be hungry after all these years. And you could put him in
Adhelmar's room--"
"But," Florian said wildly, to Dame Adelaide, "you have committed the
crime of bigamy, and you are, after all, my wife!"
She replied, herself not unworried:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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