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PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY
23
ad done on the night that now seemed o long ago. 'Tig said that time heals, and this -is ndoubtedly true; but it always leaves scaf, and that is sometimes so thin -hat it scarcely prevents the old wound rom bleeding. So it was with Grace "atherwood.
Time rolled on. John Catherwood was married. It was a quiet wedding, or neither Catherwood nor his wife
another and still another young life to bless the home of John and Helen Catherwood. And the sound of infant gurglings gave way to the laughingvoices of happy children. And as time still rolled on, two buds blossomed into charming young maidenhood, and young John Catherwood came proudly home with his first college honors — a broken arm, gloriously acquired on the football field.
pay. Her old eyes were fixed on the dancing flames of driftwood in the big fireplace.
And out of the green and yellow flames there jumped a little child with laughing blue eyes and bright golden hair.
"Come !" he called gayly, taking the old, withered fingers in his soft, plump hand. "Come, let us go out and play in the beautiful world of life!"
She was wildly gay and drained the cup of pleasure to the very dregs.
:ared for the formality and display .vith which society would have had ■:hem burden their entrance into their )wn little paradise of love and happiness.
Time rolled on. In the home of John ■ atherwood there was now heard the pound of infant cries and gurgling aughter — very small sounds, for baby tvas still very young.
And into the world of pleasure, >vhere Grace Catherwood now shone in :he full splendor of her maturing beauty, had come the news of the arrival of a Catherwood heir. But Grace L'atherwood's heart was bound with ice, and was cold and dead !
And as Time rolled on there came
And then, a little later, came the flights from the home nest to the sweet jangling of wedding bells. First one and then another of the nestlings flew away, only to flit back again with nestlings of their own.
Again the sound of merry children's laughter was heard in the halls of Catherwood, and, surrounded by their children and their grandchildren, John and Helen walked happily, hand in hand, down the now shortening road of life that led to the shining gates beyond.
And Grace Catherwood, wrinkled and old, sat alone in the great hall of her home, unloving and unloved, with none to serve her save those she hired for
She wanted to demur. She was sure that life was not beautiful, and she was too old to play. But her visitor was not to be denied, so she took his hand, and they fared forth into the world.
The child led her into a bright field, and then took from a little bag that he carried a seed which he dropped in the earth ; and presently she saw a tender green shoot thrust its head above the ground, and, as she watched, it grew. And as it grew branches shot out from the main stem, and little buds began to appear. And, as she still watched, these buds began to open, and soon the whole bush ' was abloom with roses.
"See!" cried the child. "Is not life beautiful ?"