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Page 122

Harmony knelt by the grave and said the little prayer the child
had repeated at night and morning. And, because he had loved it,
with some vague feeling of giving him comfort, she recited the
little verse:--

"Ah well! For us all some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes:
And in the hereafter, angels may
Roll the stone from its grave away."

When she looked up Le Grande was standing beside her.

There was no scene, hardly any tears. She had brought out a great
bunch of roses that bore only too clearly the stamp of whence
they came. One of the pickaninnies had carried the box and stood
impassively by, gazing at Harmony.

Le Grande placed her flowers on the grave. They almost covered
it, quite eclipsed Harmony's.

"I come here every morning," she said simply.

She had a cab waiting, and offered to drive Harmony back to the
city. Her quiet almost irritated Harmony, until she had looked
once into the woman's eyes. After that she knew. It was on the
drive back, with the little darky on the box beside the driver,
that Harmony got her answer.

Le Grande put a hand over Harmony's.

"I tried to tell you before how good I know you were to him."

"We loved him."

"And I resented it. But Dr. Byrne was right--I was not a fit
person to--to have him."

"It was not that--not only that--"

"Did he ever ask for me? But of course not."

"No, he had no remembrance."

Silence for a moment. The loose windows of the cab clattered.

"I loved him very much when he came," said Le Grande, "although I
did not want him. I had been told I could have a career on the
stage. Ah, my dear, I chose the career--and look at me! What have
I? A grave in the cemetery back there, and on it roses sent me by
a man I loathe! If I could live it over again!"

The answer was very close now:--

"Would you stay at home?"

"Who knows, I being I? And my husband did not love me. It was the
boy always. There is only one thing worth while--the love of a
good man. I have lived, lived hard. And I know."

"But supposing that one has real ability--I mean some achievement
already, and a promise--"

Le Grande turned and looked at Harmony shrewdly.

"I see. You are a musician, I believe?"

"Yes."

"And--it is Dr. Byrne?"

"Yes."

Le Grande bent forward earnestly.

"My child," she said, "if one man in all the world looked at me
as your doctor looks at you, I--I would be a better woman."

"And my music?"

"Play for your children, as you played for my little boy."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 30th Dec 2025, 5:25

The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart