By the Light of the Soul Mary Eleanor Wilkins-Freeman By the Light of the Soul A Novel By Mary E Wilkins Freeman Author of “The Debtor” “The Portion of Labor” “Jerome” “A New England Nun” Etc etc 1907 To Harriet and Carolyn Alden By the Light of the Soul Chapter I Maria Edgham, who was a very young girl, sat in the church vestry beside a window during the weekly prayer-meeting As was the custom, a young man had charge of the meeting, and he stood, with a sort of embarrassed dignity, on the little platform behind the desk He was reading a selection from the Bible Maria heard him drone out in a scarcely audible voice: “Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth,” and then she heard, in a quick response, a soft sob from the seat behind her She knew who sobbed: Mrs Jasper Cone, who had lost her baby the week before The odor of crape came in Maria’s face, making a species of discordance with the fragrance of the summer night, which came in at the open window Maria felt irritated by it, and she wondered why Mrs Cone felt so badly about the loss of her baby It had always seemed to Maria a most unattractive child, large-headed, flabby, and mottled, with ever an open mouth of resistance, and a loud wail of opposition to existence in general Maria felt sure that she could never have loved such a baby Even the unfrequent smiles of that baby had not been winning; they had seemed reminiscent of the commonest and coarsest things of life, rather than of heavenly innocence Maria gazed at the young man on the platform, who presently bent his head devoutly, and after saying, “Let us pray,” gave utterance to an unintelligible flood of supplication intermingled with information to the Lord of the state of things on the earth, and the needs of his people Maria wondered why, when God knew everything, Leon Barber told him about it, and she also hoped that God heard better than most of the congregation did But she looked with a timid wonder of admiration at the young man himself He was so much older than she, that her romantic fancies, which even at such an early age had seized upon her, never included him She as yet dreamed only of other dreamers like herself, Wollaston Lee, for instance, who went to the same school, and was only a year older Maria had made sure that he was there, by a glance, directly after she had entered, then she never glanced at him again, but she wove him into her dreams along with the sweetness of the midsummer night, and the By the Light of the Soul morally tuneful atmosphere of the place She was utterly innocent, her farthest dreams were white, but she dreamed She gazed out of the window through which came the wind on her little goldencropped head (she wore her hair short) in cool puffs, and she saw great, plumy masses of shadow, themselves like the substance of which dreams were made The trees grew thickly down the slope, which the church crowned, and at the bottom of the slope rushed the river, which she heard like a refrain through the intermittent soughing of the trees A whippoorwill was singing somewhere out there, and the katydids shrieked so high that they almost surmounted dreams She could smell wild grapes and pine and other mingled odors of unknown herbs, and the earth itself There had been a hard shower that afternoon, and the earth still seemed to cry out with pleasure because of it Maria had worn her old shoes to church, lest she spoil her best ones; but she wore her pretty pink gingham gown, and her hat with a wreath of rosebuds, and she felt to the utmost the attractiveness of her appearance She, however, felt somewhat conscience-stricken on account of the pink gingham gown It was a new one, and her mother had been obliged to have it made by a dress-maker, and had paid three dollars for that, beside the trimmings, which were lace and ribbon Maria wore the gown without her mother’s knowledge She had in fact stolen down the backstairs on that account, and gone out the south door in order that her mother should not see her Maria’s mother was ill lately, and had not been able to go to church, nor even to perform her usual tasks She had always made Maria’s gowns herself until this pink gingham Maria’s mother was originally from New England, and her conscience was abnormally active Her father was of New Jersey, and his conscience, while no one would venture to say that it was defective, did not in the least interfere with his enjoyment of life “Oh, well, Abby,” her father would reply, easily, when her mother expressed her distress that she was unable to work as she had done, “we shall manage somehow Don’t worry, Abby.” Worry in another irritated him even more than in himself By the Light of the Soul “Well, Maria can’t help much while she is in school She is a delicate little thing, and sometimes I am worried about her.” “Oh, Maria can’t be expected to much while she is in school,” her father said, easily “We’ll manage somehow, only for Heaven’s sake don’t worry.” Then Maria’s father had taken his hat and gone down street He always went down street of an evening Maria, who had been sitting on the porch, had heard every word of the conversation which had been carried on in the sitting-room that very evening It did not alarm her at all because her mother considered her delicate Instead, she had a vague sense of distinction on account of it It was as if she realized being a flower rather than a vegetable She thought of it that night as she sat in meeting She glanced across at a girl who went to the same school—a large, heavily built child with a coarseness of grain showing in every feature—and a sense of superiority at once exalted and humiliated her She said to herself that she was much finer and prettier than Lottie Sears, but that she ought to be thankful and not proud because she was She felt vain, but she was sorry because of her vanity She knew how charming her pink gingham gown was, but she knew that she ought to have asked her mother if she might wear it She knew that her mother would scold her—she had a ready tongue—and she realized that she would deserve it She had put on the pink gingham on account of Wollaston Lee, who was usually at prayer-meeting That, of course, she could not tell her mother There are some things too sacred for little girls to tell their mothers She wondered if Wollaston would ask leave to walk home with her She had seen a boy step out of a waiting file at the vestry door to a blushing girl, and had seen the girl, with a coy readiness, slip her hand into the waiting crook of his arm, and walk off, and she had wondered when such bliss would come to her It never had She wondered if the pink gingham might bring it to pass to-night The pink gingham was as the mating plumage of a bird All unconsciously she glanced sideways over the fall of lace-trimmed pink ruffles at her slender shoulders at Wollaston Lee He was gazing straight at Miss Slome, Miss Ida Slome, who was the schoolteacher, and his young face wore an expression of devotion Maria’s By the Light of the Soul eyes followed his; she did not dream of being jealous; Miss Slome seemed too incalculably old to her for that She was not so very old, in her early thirties, but the early thirties to a young girl are venerable Miss Ida Slome was called a beauty She, as well as Maria, wore a pink dress, at which Maria privately wondered The teacher seemed to her too old to wear pink She thought she ought wear black like her mother Miss Slome’s pink dress had knots of black velvet about it which accentuated it, even as Miss Slome’s face was accentuated by the clear darkness of her eyes and the black puff of her hair above her finely arched brows Her cheeks were of the sweetest red—not pink but red—which seemed a further tone of the pink of her attire, and she wore a hat encircled with a wreath of red roses Maria thought that she should have worn a bonnet Maria felt an odd sort of instinctive antagonism for her She wondered why Wollaston looked at the teacher so instead of at herself She gave her head a charming cant, and glanced again, but the boy still had his eyes fixed upon the elder woman, with that rapt expression which is seen only in the eyes of a boy upon an older woman, and which is primeval, involving the adoration and awe of womanhood itself The boy had not reached the age when he was capable of falling in love, but he had reached the age of adoration, and there was nothing in little Maria Edgham in her pink gingham, with her shy, sidelong glances, to excite it She was only a girl, the other was a goddess His worship of the teacher interfered with Wollaston’s studies He was wondering as he sat there if he could not walk home with her that night, if by chance any man would be in waiting for her How he hated that imaginary man He glanced around, and as he did so, the door opened softly, and Harry Edgham, Maria’s father, entered He was very late, but he had waited in the vestibule, in order not to attract attention, until the people began singing a hymn, “Jesus, Lover of my Soul,” to the tune of “When the Swallows Homeward Fly.” He was a distinctly handsome man He looked much younger than Maria’s mother, his wife People said that Harry Edgham’s wife might, from her looks, have been his mother She was a tall, dark, rather harsh-featured woman In her youth she had had a beauty of color; now that had passed, and she was sallow, and she disdained to try to make the most of herself, to soften her stern face by a judicious arrangement of her still plentiful hair She strained it back By the Light of the Soul from her hollow temples, and fastened it securely on the top of her head She had a scorn of fashions in hair or dress except for Maria “Maria is young,” she said, with an ineffable expression of love and pride, and a tincture of defiance, as if she were defying her own age, in the ownership of the youth of her child She was like a rose-bush which possessed a perfect bud of beauty, and her own long dwelling upon the earth could on account of that be ignored But Maria’s father was different He was quite openly a vain man He was handsome, and he held fast to his youth, and would not let it pass by His hair, curling slightly over temples boyish in outlines, although marked, was not in the least gray His mustache was carefully trimmed After he had seated himself unobtrusively in a rear seat, he looked around for his daughter, who saw him with dismay “Now,” she thought, her chances of Wollaston Lee walking home with her were lost Father would go home with her Her mother had often admonished Harry Edgham that when Maria went to meeting alone, he ought to be in waiting to go home with her, and he obeyed his wife, generally speaking, unless her wishes conflicted too strenuously with his own He did not in the least object to-night, for instance, to dropping late into the prayer-meeting There were not many people there, and all the windows were open, and there was something poetical and sweet about the atmosphere Besides, the singing was unusually good for such a place Above all the other voices arose Ida Slome’s sweet soprano She sang like a bird; her voice, although not powerful, was thrillingly sweet Harry looked at her as she sang, and thought how pretty she was, but there was no disloyalty to his wife in the look He was, in fact, not that sort of man While he did not love his Abby with utter passion, all the women of the world could not have swerved him from her Harry Edgham came of perhaps the best old family in that vicinity, Edgham itself had been named for it, and while he partook of that degeneracy which comes to the descendants of the large old families, while it is as inevitable that they should run out, so to speak, as flowers which have flourished too many years in a garden, whose soil they have exhausted, he had not lost the habit of rectitude of his ancestors Virtue was a hereditary trait of the Edghams By the Light of the Soul Harry Edgham looked at Ida Slome with as innocent admiration as another woman might have done Then he looked again at his daughter’s little flower-like head, and a feeling of love made his heart warm Maria could sing herself, but she was afraid Once in a while she droned out a sweet, husky note, then her delicate cheeks flushed crimson as if all the people had heard her, when they had not heard at all, and she turned her head, and gazed out of the open window at the plumed darkness She thought again with annoyance how she would have to go with her father, and Wollaston Lee would not dare accost her, even if he were so disposed; then she took a genuine pleasure in the window space of sweet night and the singing Her passions were yet so young that they did not disturb her long if interrupted She was also always conscious of the prettiness of her appearance, and she loved herself for it with that love which brings previsions of unknown joys of the future Her charming little face, in her realization of it, was as the untried sword of the young warrior which is to bring him all the glory of earth for which his soul longs After the meeting was closed, and Harry Edgham, with his little daughter lagging behind him with covert eyes upon Wollaston Lee, went out of the vestry, a number inquired for his wife “Oh, she is very comfortable,” he replied, with his cheerful optimism which solaced him in all vicissitudes, except the single one of actually witnessing the sorrow and distress of those who belonged to him “I heard,” said one man, who was noted in the place for his outspokenness, which would have been brutal had it not been for his naïveté—”I heard she wasn’t going to get out again.” “Nonsense,” replied Harry Edgham “Then she is?” “Of course she is She would have come to meeting to-night if it had not been so damp.” By the Light of the Soul “Don’t you know that it may be difficult for a young girl alone? Have you any baggage?” Maria looked at her little satchel, which she had left beside her former chair “Is that all?” asked Miss Blair “Yes.” “You must certainly not think of trying to go to a hotel at this time of night,” said the dwarf “You must go home with me I am entirely safe Even your mother would trust you with me, if you have one.” “I have not, nor father, either,” replied Maria “But I am not afraid to trust you for myself.” A pleased expression transfigured Miss Blair’s face “You not distrust me and you not shrink from me?” she said “No,” replied Maria, looking at her with indescribable gratitude “Then it is settled,” said the dwarf “You will come home with me I expect my carriage when we arrive at the station You will be entirely safe You need not look as frightened as you did a few moments ago again Come home with me to-night; then we will see what can be done.” Miss Blair turned her face towards the window Her big chair almost swallowed her tiny figure, the sardonic expression had entirely left her face, which appeared at once noble and loving Maria gazed at her as she sat so, with an odd, inverted admiration It seemed extraordinary to her she should actually admire any one like this deformed little creature, but admire her she did It was as if she suddenly had become possessed of a sixth sense for an enormity of beauty beyond the usual standards 470 By the Light of the Soul Miss Blair glanced at her and saw the look in her eyes, and a look of triumph came into her own She bent forward towards Maria “You are sheltering me as well as I am sheltering you,” she said, in a low voice Maria did not know what to say Miss Blair leaned back again and closed her eyes, and a look of perfect peace and content was on her face It was not long before the train rolled into the New York tunnel Miss Blair’s maid rose and took down her mistress’s travelling cloak of black silk, which she brushed with a little, ivory brush taken from her travelling-bag “This young lady is going home with us, Adelaide,” said Miss Blair “Yes, ma’am,” replied the maid, without the slightest surprise She took Maria’s coat from the hook where it swung, and brushed it also, and assisted her to put it on before the porter entered the car Maria felt again in a daze, but a great sense of security was over her She had not the slightest doubt of this strange little creature who was befriending her She felt like one who finds a ledge of safety on a precipice where he had feared a sheer descent She was content to rest awhile on the safe footing, even if it were only transient When they alighted from the train at the station a man in livery met them and assisted Miss Blair down the steps with obsequiousness “How you do, James?” said Miss Blair, then went on to ask the man what horses were in the carriage “The bays, Miss Blair,” replied the man, respectfully “I am glad of that,” said his mistress, as she went along the platform “I was afraid Alexander might make a mistake and put in those new 471 By the Light of the Soul grays I don’t like to drive with them at night very well.” Then she said to Maria: “I am very nervous about horses, Miss Ackley You may wonder at it You may think I have reached the worst and ought to fear nothing, but there are worsts beyond worsts.” “Yes,” Maria replied, vaguely She kept close to Miss Blair She realized what an agony of fear she should have felt in that murky station with the lights burning dimly through the smoke and the strange sights and outcries all around her Miss Blair’s carriage was waiting, and Maria saw, halfcomprehendingly, that it was very luxurious indeed She entered with Miss Blair and her maid, then after a little wait for baggage they drove away When the carriage stopped, the footman assisted Maria out after Miss Blair, and she followed her conductress’s tiny figure toiling rather painfully on the arm of her maid up the steps She entered the house, and stood for a second fairly bewildered Maria had seen many interiors of moderate luxury, but never anything like this For a second her attention was distracted from everything except the wonderful bizarre splendor in which she found herself It was not Western magnificence, but Oriental; hangings of the richest Eastern stuffs, rugs, and dark gleams of bronzes and dull lights of brass, and the sheen of silken embroideries When Maria at last recovered herself and turned to Miss Blair, to her astonishment she no longer seemed as deformed as she had been on the train She fitted into this dark, rich, Eastern splendor as a misformed bronze idol might have done Miss Blair gave a little, shrewd laugh at Maria’s gaze, then she spoke to another maid who had appeared when the door opened “This is my friend Miss Ackley, Louise,” she said “Take her to the west room, and call down and have a supper tray sent to her.” Then she said to Maria that she must be tired, and would prefer going at 472 By the Light of the Soul once to her room “I am tired myself,” said Miss Blair “Such persons as I not move about the face of the earth with impunity There is a wear and tear of the soul and the body when the body is so small that it scarcely holds the soul You will have your supper sent up, and your breakfast in the morning At ten o’clock I will send Adelaide to bring you to my room.” She bade Maria good-night, and the girl followed the maid, stepping into an elevator on one side of the vestibule She had a vision of Miss Blair’s tiny figure with Adelaide moving slowly upward on the other side Maria reflected that she was glad that she had her toilet articles and her night-dress at least in her satchel She felt the maid looking at her, although her manner was very much like Adelaide’s She wondered what she would have thought if she had not at least had her simple necessaries for the night when she followed her into a room which seemed to her fairly wonderful It was a white room The walls were with paper covered with sheafs of white lilies; white fur rugs—wolf-skins and skins of polar bears—were strewn over the polished white floor All the toilet articles were ivory and the furniture white, with decorations of white lilies and silver In one corner stood a bed of silver with white draperies Beyond, Maria had a glimpse of a bath in white and silver, and a tiny dressing-room which looked like frost-work When the maid left her for a moment Maria stood and gazed breathless She realized a sort of delight in externals which she had never had before The externals seemed to be farther-reaching There was something about this white, virgin room which made it seem to her after her terror on the train like heaven A sense of absolute safety possessed her It was something to have that, although she was doing something so tremendous to her self-consciousness that she felt like a criminal, and the ache in her heart for those whom she had left never ceased The maid brought in a tray covered with dainty dishes of white and silver and a little flask of white wine Then, after Maria had refused further assistance, she left her Maria ate her supper She was in reality half famished Then she went to bed Nestling in her white bed, looking out of a lace-curtained window opposite through which came the glimpse of a long line of city lights, Maria felt more than ever as if 473 By the Light of the Soul she were in another world She felt as if she were gazing at her past, at even her loves of life, through the wrong end of a telescope The night was very warm but the room was deliciously cool A breath of sweet coolness came from one of the walls Maria, contrary to her wont, fell asleep almost immediately She was exhausted, and an unusual peace seemed to soothe her very soul She felt as if she had really died and gotten safe to Heaven She said her prayers, then she was asleep She awoke rather late the next morning, and took her bath, and then her breakfast was brought When that was finished and she was dressed, it was ten o’clock, and the maid Adelaide came to take her to her hostess Maria went down one elevator and up another, the one in which she had seen Miss Blair ascend the night before Then she entered a strange room, in the midst of which sat Miss Blair To Maria’s utter amazement, she no longer seemed in the least deformed, she no longer seemed a dwarf She was in perfect harmony with the room, which was low-ceiled, full of strange curves and low furniture with curved backs It was all Eastern, as was the first floor of the house Maria understood with a sort of intuition that this was necessary The walls were covered with Eastern hangings, tables of lacquer stood about filled with squat bronzes and gemlike ivory carvings The hangings were all embroidered in short curve effects Maria realized that her hostess, in this room, made more of a harmony than she herself She felt herself large, coarse, and common where she should have been tiny, bizarre, and, according to the usual standard, misformed Miss Blair had planned for herself a room wherein everything was misformed, and in which she herself was in keeping It had been partly the case on the first floor of the house Here it was wholly Maria sat down in one of the squat, curved-back chairs, and Miss Blair, who was opposite, looked at her, then laughed with the open delight of a child “What a pity I cannot make the whole earth over to suit me,” she said, “instead of only this one room! Now I look entirely perfect to you, I not?” “Yes,” Maria replied, looking at her with wonder 474 By the Light of the Soul “It is my vanity room,” said Miss Blair, and she laughed as if she were laughing at herself Then she added, with a little pathos, “You yourself, if you had been in my place, would have wanted one little corner in which you could be perfect.” “Yes, I should,” said Maria As she spoke she settled herself down lower in her chair “Yes, you look entirely too tall and straight in here,” said Miss Blair, and laughed again, with genuine glee “Beauty is only a matter of comparison, you know,” said she “If one is ugly and misshapen, all she has to is to surround herself with things ugly and misshapen, and she gets the effect of perfect harmony, which is the highest beauty in the world Here I am in harmony after I have been out of tune It is a comfort But, after all, being out of tune is not the worst thing in the world It might be worse I would not make the world over to suit me, but myself to suit the world, if I could After all, the world is right and I am wrong, but in here I seem to be right Now, child, tell me about yourself.” Maria told her She left nothing untold She told her about her father and mother, her step-mother, and Evelyn, and her marriage, and how she had planned to go to Edgham, get the little sum which her father had deposited in the savings-bank for her, and then vanish “How?” asked Miss Blair Maria confessed that she did not know “Of course your mere disappearance is not going to right things, you know,” said Miss Blair “That matrimonial tangle can only be straightened by your death, or the appearance of it I not suppose you meditate the stereotyped hat on the bank, and that sort of thing.” “I don’t know exactly what to do,” said Maria 475 By the Light of the Soul “You are quite right in avoiding a divorce,” said Miss Blair, “especially when your own sister is concerned People would never believe the whole truth, but only part of it The young man would be ruined, too The only way is to have your death-notice appear in the paper.” “How?” “Everything is easy, if one has money,” said Miss Blair, “and I have really a good deal.” She looked thoughtfully at Maria “Did you really care for that young man?” she asked Maria paled “I thought so,” she said “Then you did.” “It does not make any difference if I did,” said Maria, with a little indignation She felt as if she were being probed to her heart-strings “No, of course it does not,” Miss Blair agreed directly “If he and your sister have fallen in love, as you say, you have done obviously the only thing to We will have the notice in the papers I don’t know quite how I shall arrange it; but I have a fertile brain.” Maria looked hesitatingly at her “But it will not be telling the truth,” she said “But what did you plan to do, if you told the truth when you came away?” asked Miss Blair with a little impatience “I did not really plan anything,” replied Maria helplessly “I only thought I would go.” “You are inconsequential,” said Miss Blair “You cannot start upon a train of sequences in this world unless you go on to the bitter end Besides, after all, why you object to lying? I suppose you were brought up to tell the truth, and so was I, and I really think I venerate the truth more than anything else, but sometimes a lie is the 476 By the Light of the Soul highest truth See here You are willing to bear all the punishment, even fire and brimstone, and so on, if your sister and this man whom you love, are happy, aren’t you?” “Of course,” replied Maria “Well, if you tell a lie which can hurt only yourself, and bless others, and are willing to bear the punishment for it, you are telling the truth like the angels Don’t you worry, my dear But you must not go to Edgham for that money I have enough for us both.” “I have nearly all my last term’s salary, except the sum I paid for my fare here,” Maria said, proudly “Well, dear, you shall spend it, and then you shall have some of mine.” “I don’t want any money, except what I earn,” Maria said “You may read to me, and earn it,” Miss Blair said easily “Don’t fret about such a petty thing Now, will you please touch that bell, dear I must go and arrange about our passage.” “Our passage?” repeated Maria dully “Yes; to-day is Thursday We can catch a Saturday steamer We can buy anything which you need ready-made in the way of wearingapparel, and get the rest on the other side.” Maria gasped She was very white, and her eyes were dilated She stared at Miss Rosa Blair, who returned her stare with curious fixedness Maria seemed to see depths within depths of meaning in her great dark eyes A dimness swept over her own vision “Touch the bell, please, dear,” said Miss Blair Maria obeyed She touched the bell She was swept off her feet She had encountered a will stronger than any which she had ever 477 By the Light of the Soul known, a will which might have been strengthened by the tininess of the body in which its wings were bent, but always beating for flight And she had encountered this will at a moment when her own was weakened and her mind dazed by the unprecedented circumstances in which she was placed 478 By the Light of the Soul Chapter XXXVIII Three days later, when they were on the outward-bound steamer, Miss Rosa Blair crossed the corridor between her state-room, which she occupied with her maid, to Maria’s, and stood a moment looking down at the girl lying in her berth Maria was in that state of liability to illness which keeps one in a berth, although she was not actually sea-sick “My dear,” said Miss Blair “I think I may as well tell you now In the night’s paper before we left, I saw the death-notice of a certain Maria Edgham, of Edgham, New Jersey There were some particulars which served to establish the fact of the death You will not be interested in the particulars?” Maria turned her pale face towards the port-hole, against which dashed a green wave topped with foam “No,” said she “I thought you would not,” said Miss Blair “Then there is something else.” Maria waited quiescent “Your name is on the ship’s list of passengers as Miss Elizabeth Blair You are my adopted daughter.” Maria started “Adelaide does not remember that you were called Miss Ackley,” said Miss Blair “She will never remember that you were anything except my adopted daughter She is a model maid As for the others, Louise is a model, too, and so is the coachman The footman is discharged When we return, nobody in my house will have ever known you except as Elizabeth Blair.” Miss Blair went out of the state-room walking easily with the motion of the ship She was a good sailor 479 By the Light of the Soul The next afternoon Maria was able to sit out on deck She leaned back in her steamer-chair, and wept silently Miss Blair stood at a little distance near the rail, talking to an elderly gentleman whom she had met years ago “She is my adopted daughter Elizabeth,” said Miss Blair “She has been a little ill, but she is much better She is feeling sad over the death of a friend, poor child.” It was a year before Maria and Miss Blair returned to the United States Maria looked older, although she was fully as handsome as she had ever been Her features had simply acquired an expression of decision and of finish, which they had not before had She also looked more sophisticated It had been on her mind that she might possibly meet her step-mother abroad, but she had not done so; and one day Miss Blair had shown her a London newspaper in which was the notice of Ida’s marriage to a Scotchman “We need not go to Scotland,” said Miss Blair The day after they landed was very warm They had gone straight to Miss Blair’s New York house; later they were to go to the sea-shore The next morning Maria went into Miss Blair’s vanity room, as she called it, and a strange look was on her face “I have made up my mind,” said she “Well?” Miss Blair said, interrogatively “I cannot let him commit bigamy I cannot let my sister marry—my husband I cannot break the laws in such a fashion, nor allow them to so.” “You break no moral law.” “I am not so sure I don’t know where the dividing-line between the moral and the legal comes.” “Then—?” “I am going to take the train to Amity this noon.” 480 By the Light of the Soul Miss Blair turned slightly pale, but she regarded Maria unflinchingly “Very well,” said she “I have always told you that I would not oppose you in any resolution which you might make in the matter.” “It is not because I love him,” said Maria “I love him; I think I always shall But it is not because of that.” “I know that What you propose doing after you have disclosed yourself?” “Tell the truth.” “And then what?” “I shall talk the matter over with Wollaston and Evelyn, and I think they can be made to see that a quiet divorce will straighten it all out.” “Not as far as the man’s career is concerned, if he marries your sister, and not so far as your sister is concerned People are prone to believe the worst, as the sparks fly upward.” “Then they will,” Maria said, obstinately “I have made up my mind I dare not undertake the responsibility.” “What will you afterwards, come back to me?” Miss Blair said, wistfully “You will come back, will you not, dear?” “If you wish,” Maria said, with a quick, loving glance at her “If I wish!” repeated Miss Blair “Well, go if you must.” Maria did not reach Amity until long after dark Behind her on the train were two women who got on at the station before Amity She did not know them, and they did not know her, but they presently began talking about her “I saw Miss Maria Stillman at the 481 By the Light of the Soul Ordination in Westbridge, Wednesday,” said one to the other This woman had a curiously cool, long-reaching breath when she spoke Maria felt it like a fan on the back of her neck The other woman, who was fat, responded with a wheezy voice “It was queer about that niece of hers, who taught school in Westbridge, running away and dying so dreadful sudden, wasn’t it?” said she “Dreadful queer I guess her aunt and sister felt pretty bad about it, and I s’pose they now; but it’s a year ago, and they’ve left off their mourning.” “Of course,” said the other woman “They would leave it off on account of—” Maria did not hear what followed, for a thundering freight-train passed them and drowned the words After the train passed, the fat woman was saying, with her wheezy voice, “Mr Lee’s mother’s death was dreadful sudden, wasn’t it?” “Dreadful.” “I wonder if he likes living in Amity as well as Westbridge?” “I shouldn’t think he would, it isn’t as convenient to the academy.” “Well, maybe he will go back to Westbridge after a while,” said the other woman, and again her breath fanned Maria’s neck She wondered what it meant A surmise came to her, then she dismissed it She was careful to keep her back turned to the women when the train pulled into Amity She had no baggage except a suitcase She got off the train, and disappeared in the familiar darkness All at once it seemed to her as if she had returned from the unreal to the real, from fairy-land to the actual world The year past seemed like a dream to her She could not believe it It was like that fact which is stranger than fiction, and therefore almost impossible even to write, much less to live Miss Rosa Blair, and her travellings in 482 By the Light of the Soul Europe, and her house in New York, seemed to her like an Arabian Night’s creation She walked along the street towards her aunt’s house, and realized her old self and her old perplexities When she drew near the house she saw a light in the parlor windows and also in Aunt Maria’s bedroom Aunt Maria had evidently gone to her room for the night Uncle Henry’s side of the house was entirely dark Maria stole softly into the yard, and paused in front of the parlor windows The shades were not drawn There sat Evelyn at work on some embroidery, while opposite to her sat Wollaston Lee, reading aloud In Evelyn’s lap, evidently hampering her with her work, was a beautiful yellow cat, which she paused now and then to stroke Maria felt her heart almost stand still There was something about it which renewed her vague surmise on the train It was only a very few minutes before Wollaston laid down the paper which he had been reading, and said something to Evelyn, who began to fold her work with the sweet docility which Maria remembered Wollaston rose and went over to Evelyn and kissed her as she stood up and let the yellow cat leap to the floor Evelyn looked to Maria more beautiful than she had ever seen her Maria stood farther back in the shadow Then she heard the front door opened, and the cat was gently put out Then she heard the key turn in the lock, and a bolt slide Maria stood perfectly still A light from a lamp which was being carried by some one, flitted like a will-o’-the-wisp over the yard, and the parlor windows became dark Then a broad light shone out from the front chamber windows through the drawn white shade, and lay in a square on the grass of the yard The cat which had been put out rubbed against Maria’s feet She caught up the little animal and kissed it Then she put it down gently, and hurried back to the station She thought of Rosa Blair, and an intense longing came over her She seemed to suddenly sense the highest quality of love: that which realizes the need of another, rather than one’s own The poor little dwarf seemed the very child of her heart She looked up at the stars shining through the plumy foliage of the trees, and thought how many of them might owe their glory to the radiance of unknown suns, and it seemed to her that her own soul lighted her path by its reflection of the love of God She thought that 483 By the Light of the Soul it might be so with all souls which were faced towards God, and that which is above and beyond, and it was worth more than anything else in the whole world She questioned no longer the right or wrong of what she had done, as she hurried on and reached the little Amity station in time for the last train THE END 484 ... By the Light of the Soul A Novel By Mary E Wilkins Freeman Author of ? ?The Debtor” ? ?The Portion of Labor” “Jerome” ? ?A New England Nun” Etc etc 1907 To Harriet and Carolyn Alden By the Light of. .. superior beauty when Amy Long was concerned 14 By the Light of the Soul “You don’t begin to be as good-looking as your aunt Maria was at your age, and you know yourself how she looks now Nobody would... that numbly, without any realization of the task The morning wore on The doctors, one at a time came down, and the nurse came down, and they ate a hearty breakfast Maria watched them, and hated