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Flower of the Dusk

Flower of the Dusk

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 2855    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

er of

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ssages of light to the grey East, where lay the sea, crooning itself to sleep. Bare boughs dripped rain upon the sodden earth,

ad chosen to face the valley and dream of the glory that, perchance, trailed down in living light from some vast loom o

l Mem

the darkness of more than twenty years, came back to him with divine beauty and diviner joy. Mnemosyne, that guardian angel of the soul, brought from her

the sleeping sea, and the hush of night brooded over the river as it murmured through the plain. A sin

msically, as he went cautiously down the path, searching

il had, for him, its own deep meaning of resurrection. He felt it in the swelling buds of the branches that

st upon the right-hand side. The gate creaked on its hinges and he went quickly up the walk, passing

er with tenderly watchful love. The older one, who had long been listening,

ate, Fath

ll me, was there a

glorio

with

for my being late. I saw a beauti

older woman stood at his side, lon

iriam; you ar

he dingy walls, and worn rugs covered the floor. The furniture was old mahogany, beautifully cared for, b

ss, and the ability to live above mere externals. Barbara had, very strongly, the house-love which belongs to some rare women. And who shall say

able, but at the head of it was overlaid a remnant of heavy table-damask, the worn places carefully hidden. The c

es and forks which were the portion of the others. The five damask napkins

orting

difficulty in procuring servants, and to say how much easier it was to do their own small tasks than to watch continually over fine linen and rare china intrusted to incompetent hands.

ful to move about as little as possible when he was in the house. She had gone, mouse-like, to her own particular chair while Miriam was ha

yet I am glad of the fire. To-d

anac?" laug

ng for ten days. Nature does not move according to man's l

ly S

orth's fine, strong face the delicacy and dignity of an old miniature. It transfigured Barbara's yellow hair into a crown of gold,

e hands strayed to her lap and lifted the s

lingerie

eat deal of it

k, perhaps. It takes a l

me you are al

e days, Father. We need a

al. She-" His voice broke, for even afte

Aunt Miriam?" aske

es

me, let'

table, which, purposely, was nearest the door. B

e you to-d

top of

a robin, but I am not sure. I smelled Spring in the maple branches and the cedar,

u make

Make

em afterward. Always make a song

t space of time and her dark, burning eyes betrayed tragic depths of feeling. Her black hair, slightly tinged with gre

ved with them, taking care of little lame Barbara, now grown into beautiful womanhood, except for the crutches. After his blindness,

w tone, as they rose from the table. "It wi

ishes for you, Aunty

o wit

Barbara turned up the light and began again on her

is voice was ten

her, please. I'm so anx

why,

so vain," she ans

ittle gi

d the prettiest"-she swallowed hard here-"the prettiest

"that I have been able to give you the things

had made two song

of th

rm of her chair. Quietly, she moved her crutches b

he mountains, and walled up the door with crystal. All the while the river w

longer. When it found the door barred, it was very sad. Then it grew rebellious and hurled itself against the door, trying t

he wonder of the sea. A good fairy happened to be passing, and she stopped to hear the song. She became so interested that she wanted to see the singer, so she opened t

one, too

t is

of th

ter the darkness grew warm it began to climb up and up, until one day it reached the sunshine. After that, it was so glad that it tossed out tiny, gree

, pretty Princess, I

ould die, little Flower, if yo

self in a web of sheerest linen. There was much cutting and more pain, and thousands of pricking stitches, then a beautiful gown was made, all embroidered w

rb

r, Barbara?" He had aske

rn, Daddy. Don't you r

stroke the shining br

pur that grows

touched her face gently as he spoke

, Da

en, but she will not tell me. She only says you look well

n. "You mustn't ask such questions! Didn't you s

her evenings alone unless they urged her to join them. She had a newspaper more than a week old, but, as yet, she had not read it.

g," reminded B

f the

o who loved each other saw it together. God and all His angels had hung a marvellous tapestry from the

we always look for t

ed and answered

d, 'when one of us goes

, I think, there in the West is the Golden City with the jasper walls a

lence. "And so-" sa

, with difficulty, "she leans from the sunset toward him, but he can never see her, because he is bl

e neither blind nor lame. Here, I am eyes for you and you ar

"soul and body shall be as one. We must wait-for li

t a song should be in

Real

he real song is in the thrush's heart, not in the silvery rain of sound that comes from the green boughs in Sp

there al

h other things. We must find it and divide it, fo

the far shadows. The sound of his footsteps died away and a distant door closed. Soon afterward

dn

ade her needle fly swiftly. In her own room was an old chest nearly full of dainty garments which she was never t

When the guests come to the hotel," she thought-"ah, when they come, and buy all the things I've mad

g Em

nsfigured by tenderness into beauty beyond words. The lamp went out and little by little the room fad

," she breathed. "

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