Part 19 (1/2)

That night after his cousin and his guest had gone to bed, Lindsay wandered about the place. The moon was big enough to turn his paths into streams of light. He walked through the flower garden; into the barn; about the Dew Pond. The tallest hollyhocks scarcely moved, so quiet was the night. The little pond showed no ripple except a flash of the moonlight. The barn was a cavern of gloom. Lindsay gazed at everything as though from a new point of view.

An immeasurable content filled him.

After a while he returned to the house. His picture of Lutetia Murray still hung over the mantel in the living-room. He gazed at it for a long while. Then he turned away. As he looked down the length of the living-room, there was in his face a whimsical expression, half of an achieved happiness, half of a lurking regret. ”This house has never been so full of people since I've been here,” he mused, ”and yet never was it so empty. My beloved ghosts, I miss you. But you've not all gone after all. You've left one little ghost behind. Lutetia, I thank you for her.

How I wish you could come again to see.... But you're right. Don't come!

Not that I'm afraid. You're too lovely--”

His thoughts broke halfway. They took another turn. ”I wonder if it ever happened to any other man before in the history of the world to see the little-girl ghost of the woman--”

Blue Meadows had for several weeks now been projecting pictures from its storied past into the light of everyday. Could it have projected into that everyday one picture from the future, it would have been something like this.

Susannah came into the south living-room. Her husband was standing between the two windows.

”Davy,” she exclaimed joyfully, ”I've located the lowboy. A Mrs. Norton in West Ha.s.sett owns it. Of course she's asking a perfectly prohibitive price, but of course we've got to have it.”

”Yes,” Lindsay answered absently, ”we've got to have it.”

”I'm glad we found things so slowly,” Susannah dreamily. ”It adds to the wonder and magic of it all. It makes the dream last longer. It keeps our romance always at the boiling point.”

She put one arm about her husband's neck and kissed him. Lindsay turned; kissed her.

”At least we have the major pieces back,” Susannah said contentedly.

”And little Lutetia Murray Lindsay will grow up in almost the same surroundings that Susannah Ayer enjoyed. Oh--today--when I carried her over to the wall of the nursery, she noticed the Weejubs; she actually put her hand out to touch them.”