Athalie

In September Athalie Greensleeve wrote her last letter to Clive

Bailey. It began with a page or two of shyly solicitous inquiries

concerning his well-being, his happiness, his plans; did not refer to

his long silence; did refer to his anticipated return; did not mention

her own accumulating domestic and financial embarrassments and the

successive strokes of misfortune dealt her by those twin and

formidable bravos, Fate and Chance; but did mention and enumerate

everything that had occurred in her life which bore the slightest

resemblance to a blessing.

Her letter continued: "My sisters Doris and Catharine have gone into vaudeville

with a very pretty act called 'April Rain.' "That they had decided to do this and had been rehearsing it

came as a complete surprise to me. Genevieve Hunting is also

in it, and a man named Max Klepper who wrote the piece

including lyrics and music.

"They opened at the Old Dominion Theatre, remained there a

week, and then started West. Which makes it a trifle lonely

for me; but I don't really mind if they only keep well and

are successful and happy in their venture. Their idea and

their desire, of course, is to return to New York at the

earliest opportunity. But nobody seems to have any idea how

soon that may happen. Meanwhile the weather is cooler and

Hafiz remains well and adorable.

"I have been out very little except to look for a position.

Mr. Wahlbaum is dead and I left the store. Sunday morning I

took a few flowers to Mr. Wahlbaum's grave. He was very kind

to me, Clive. In the afternoon I took a train to the Spring

Pond Cemetery. Father's and mother's graves had been well

cared for and were smoothly green. The four young oak trees I

planted are growing nicely. Mother was fond of trees. I am

sure she likes my little oaks.

"It was a beautiful, cool, sunny day; and after I left the

Cemetery I walked along the well remembered road toward

Spring Pond. It is not very far, but I had never been any

nearer to it than the Cemetery since my sisters and I went

away.

"Such odd sensations came over me as I walked alone there

amid familiar scenes: and, curiously, everything seemed to

have shrunk to miniature size--houses, fields, distances all

seemed much less impressive. But the Bay was intensely blue;

the grasses and reeds in the salt meadows were already tipped

with a golden colour here and there; flocks of purple grackle

and red-winged blackbirds rose, drifted, and settled,

chattering and squealing among the cat-tails just as they

used to do when I was a child; and the big, slow-sailing

mouse-hawks drifted and glided over the pastures, and when

they tipped sideways I could see the white moon-spot on their

backs, just as I remembered to look for it when I was a

little, little girl.