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THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE
THE PRODIGAL IS WELCOMED HOME
rail of a deck and looked with aching heart toward the land she was leaving. It was the land of promise, but its fruits had turned to ashes on her lips, and, as she watched the red sun sinking, dipping into the ensanguined waves, she forevisioned its rising, glorious, golden, triumphant, over the headlands by Ballydavid.
The homecoming of the prodigal is ever fraught with uncertainty and misgivings. Kathleen's longing for her own little niche in the universe was tempered with fearsome reflections. Would they forgive her? Would they still love her? And would poor Owen look with charity on her infatuation and her impulsive flight? As she drew near home and every familiar object seemed eloquent of a welcome, she broke into a run to keep pace with her impatient spirit. But when she reached the closed door of the hut, she dropped to her knees, overcome with the fear of her reception.
Light as had been her step, it had been heard by the two grieving men
who sat within mending a net. The father reached the door first, and one glance into his glad and loving eyes as he raised her from the ground gave the girl the encouragement she sought to lay her head upon his breast and murmur her plea for forgiveness. In bustled Mrs. O'Bourke. At sight of the returned wanderer, she melted into tears and laughter and gave such a magnificent demonstration of the obliterating power of love that Kathleen plucked up courage to look at Owen. He simply held out his arms, and the poor little storm-tossed soul found a haven of peace and security in his strong embrace.
Later, when they sat together on the rocks watching the persistent waves, Kathleen told him the whole unhappy tale. He listened closely, asking few questions, making few comments.
' ' Mavourneen, ' ' he said at last, ' ' it was loike chasin' a will-o'-the-wisp over the bog. An' ye 're all the wiser fer it, an' that manes we'll be all the happier along o' it."