a note about the tombs of the Medicis and a new tie I had helped Sam
to buy. I was very glad I kept that record. I knew that it would be
helpful. After I had looked at it until I saw all Florence through it,
and Florence was beginning to blur and wiggle because of something
that crept from my heart up into my eyes, I went up on deck and looked
off toward Genoa which lay, in a tangle of many gentle colors, against
the hill. . . . And I took a long, long look at this bit of Italy--the
Italy I loved so very much.
I knew that somewhere that day, my Miss Sheila--I still called her
that--and Mr. Wake were touring along through pretty country; together,
after the long years apart.
And I knew that Leslie, and Viola, and Miss Bannister and Miss Meek,
and Mr. Hemmingway were happy.
And I knew that Sam was miserable. And it sounds strange to say, but
that helped me as much as anything.
Then I looked at the birds that were flying in wide arcs around the
ship, the birds that followed it. . . . And I knew that Sam was right
in saying that other things would go along with me. . . . And I needed
them, although I needed, more than anything just then, my Mother. . . .
And I needed her because of Sam Deane, which I can’t explain.
I fumbled in my pocket, and I found her letter, and a little piece of
paper that had been torn from the edge of a newspaper, on which Sam had
written.
“Dear, dear Jane Jones,” and then, all in a hurried tangle, “I love
you!” (Sam had written this while Miss Meek dozed and an Italian
officer who was smoking outside in the corridor, looked in at us)
For a fraction of a second I felt more miserable than I ever had
before, and then a warm breeze sprung up and it seemed to fan a warm,
let down, easy feeling into me. And after that I looked down in the
water, and in it I saw the front door of our house, and the porch which
slants toward the steps, and my own Mother in the doorway, smiling and
trying not to cry and Roberta back of her. . . . And the twins jumping
up and down by the gate, and shrilly screaming, “Mother, she’s _here_!
She’s _here_, Mother!”
And then I felt myself get out of Daddy’s flivver and hurry up the
walk. And I saw every one hugging and kissing me, and every one
crying. . . . I saw this, before it _ever_ happened, just as it really
was to be!
But I didn’t see the table as it was--which I knew would have on it all
the things I liked best to eat--for I didn’t forecast the _hothouse
roses_; I never _dreamed_ that Roberta would blow her allowance on
these when she could have picked them _right out in the garden_! But
it was all wonderful! Nor did I see the banner that the twins had made
that had
WELCUM
painted on it with shoe blackening--they had each ruined a dress
through this--nor did I dream that Elaine McDonald would send me an
angel cake!
But everything was nicer than I could imagine it would be!
I wondered, as I thought of my people and getting home, whether any
other girl was as lucky as I, and I decided that none could be. And
realizing how happy I was made me feel a little sad; humble, and
uncomfortably grateful, so I forgot it as soon as I could and tried to
feel natural.
And Sam’s smile--which I was to see a whole lot and which seemed to
belong with the things I loved--and my people, helped me to do this.
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations
in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other
spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.
Italics are represented thus _italic_.