The Following of the Star: A RomanceBarclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa)
General
The Following of the Star: A Romance
Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa)
Clergy -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction; Missionaries -- Fiction
"Mummie's--tumming--home!" proclaimed the joyous voice--a word to each
step. She saw me, waiting at the bottom; and threw me a golden smile.
"I caught her in my arms. I could n't kiss her; she was not mine to
kiss. But I looked into her little face and said: 'Mummie's _come_ home,
darling! Mummie's _come_ home!'
"Then I ran to the drawing-room. I had meant to put her down at the
door. But, David, I couldn't! I carried her in, and put her straight
into her mother's arms. I saw the little mouth, so carefully guarded,
meet the living, loving lips, which I had pictured as cold and dead.
"Then I walked over to the window, and stood looking out at the sleet
and drizzle, the leafless branches, the sodden turf, the dank cold
deadness of all things without. Ah, what did they matter, with such
love, such bliss, such resurrection within!
"David, I have always said I did not like children. For years I have
derided the sacred obligation of motherhood. I have often declared that
nothing would induce me, under any circumstances, to undertake it. At
last, by my own act, I have put myself into a position which makes it
impossible that that love, that tie, that sweet responsibility, should
ever be mine. I don't say, by any means, that I wish for it; but I have
felt lately that my former attitude of mind in the matter was wrong,
ignorant, sinful.
"And--oh, how can I make my meaning plain--it seemed to me that in that
moment, when I put that little child into those waiting arms, without
kissing her myself--I expiated that mental sin. I shall always have a
hungry ache at my heart, because I gave Little Fairy up without kissing
her; but that very hunger means conviction, confession, and penance. I
shall never have a little child of my own; but I have experienced
something of the rapture of motherhood, in sharing in this meeting
between my little baby-girl, and the mother I had thought dead.
"And now, David, I will tell you a secret. Had the father arrived home,
with the awful news, I had meant to ask leave to adopt Little Fairy. But
you see I am not intended even to have other people's children for my
own.
"After a while, as I stood at the window, I heard the mother say:
'Darling, dear father has not come home.'
"'Oh,' said Fairy's contented little voice; asking no questions.
"'Darling,' insisted the quiet tones of the mother, 'dear father has
gone to be with Jesus.'
"I looked round. The baby-face was earnest and thoughtful. She lifted
great questioning eyes to her mother.
"'Oh,' she said. 'Did Jesus want him?'
"'Yes,' said the sweet voice, controlling a sudden tremor. 'Jesus wanted
him. So we have lost dear father, darling.'
"Then Fairy knelt up on her mother's knee, and put both little arms
round her mother's neck, with a movement of unspeakable tenderness.
"'But we've gotted each uvver, Mummie,' she said.
"Oh, David, _we've gotted each other_! It seemed just everything to that
little heart. And I believe it was everything to the mother, too.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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