Expatriation

Expatriation s 'INCE childhood days Lilly Nell Redfield had dis- liked her name- — that is, the first part of it. It reminded her too vividly of Dickens' pitiful Little Nell, and so much tragedy had come into her early life that she wanted nothing more of that na- ture, not even in name. That was a potent reason, though by no means the sole one, why she was willing to change it. Mrs. Nathan Everett was much more to her lik- ing. Somehow it seemed to fit her exactly, at least she thought so. Nathan — there was something he- roic about men thus designated, — the old prophet for example, who dared rebuke a king for his sins, or Nathan Hale, and — oh well, she could not remember all the Na- thans she knew; but of this she was convinced, her Nate was no whit behind the greatest of them all. He was bold enough to con- front a king with his crimes, or he would give his life for his coun- try or for her, and his only re- gret would be that he had but one to give. She, too, would be a Na- than, in fact as well as in name. 1 HE young lady sat before the mirror arranging her hair and gazed admiringly at the reflection of a diamond on the third finger of her left hand. Nathan Everett had placed the ring there the evening before, had kissed her lips, her forehead and dark hair. The memory of his touch thrilled her. Each kiss had been as an- other diamond making up the crown which betokened her queen- ship. "Being engaged really does make one more beautiful," she thought, and was instantly ashamed of the perfectly excusable vanity. "But," she continued to herself, "I won- der if a newly engaged girl could possibly dress to meet her lover without feeling intoxicated with the strangeness of her own emo- tions, and such emotion could not fail to increase beauty." By HUGH J. CANNON Chapter One trembling with excited and almost overpowering happiness. Twilight was coming on, a strange and un- natural condition; it should have been sunrise and the world flooded with light, for the glory which en- veloped her was sufficiently strong, she thought, to illumine a uni- verse. How could it ever be dark? Her exuberant spirits were sub- dued by the deepening purple shadows, but this composure was akin to the quiet exhilaration of a summer morning's dawn, and as she looked at the sparkling gem on her finger it was not easy to say which feeling predominated — ex- ultation or exaltation. Perhaps there was a blending of the two, as there is in the heart of one who has climbed heavenward to the summit of a majestic peak, above all sordid earthly cares, and who, overwhelmed by mingled feelings, does not know whether to sit down and cry or kneel down and pray. I HE melody she had been trilling, with musical voice, ceased. A helpless feeling, similar to that experienced by a passen- ger who leaves the earth in an airplane for the first time, came Ni ELL walked to the window and looked out. She was oamoa J- E fair, warm islands of the sea, Bring back sweet thoughts of memory Your coral beach and palm- clad hills Wake in my soul a thousand "thrills. Oft in my dreams I see thy strand By gentle south sea zephyrs fanned; I gaze away across the wave Where golden sands the breakers lave. My bark is sailing o'er the blue — I'm coming back again to you. I'm coming back to rest awhile — / long to see Samoa's smile. — Terrince Sylvester Glennamiddy over her at the thought that en- gagement, followed to its conclu- sion, meant leaving the parental roof. She had not peered that far into the future, and now the im- minence of the separation was startling. This doubtless was the cause of her parents' depression, which had been something of a puzzle to her during the day, for she knew they loved Nate sincerely and had willingly given consent to the marriage. Judge and Mrs. Redfield were not Nell's real parents. They, childless, had found her, a four year old orphan tot, in a far-away Samoan cottage, and the adoption which ensued was both mutual and instantaneous. Now the girl's mind traversed the intervening score of years, and she dimly re- membered what an impression the judge's honest face had made upon her. No wonder a witness on the stand could not lie while looking into those penetrating but kindly eyes; no wonder his paternal air won the hearts of repentant crim- inals. He loved honesty and truth, detested hypocrisy and pretense, and had the rare gift of inspiring others with these same qualities. Mrs. Redfield's character and am- bition could be defined in the two meaningful words — wife, mother. E VEN now NelJ could see herself, a shy babe, re- sponding to the gentle advances of the strangers, could remember with what abandon she finally flung her- self into the outstretched arms, could feel the happy tears falling on her face and hear the woman's passionate words, "My baby, that I've waited and prayed for so long!" Recalling again today's depres- sion, which Mr. and Mrs. Redfield had vainly tried to conceal, the daughter's mind was directed into another channel. The attitude of Nate's parents, until recently most cordial, had changed somehow. It was almost imperceptible, but her sensitive soul assured her it was real. Certainly they were as cour- teous as ever, but their courtesy hardly bordered on cordiality. The

The Improvement Era for August, 1930 665 .* Nell difference was one of those things so intangible that only a sixth sense could detect it, and she had re- pelled any feeling of resentment. It was a trying ordeal, she conclud- ed, for parents to see their first- born leave home, and she deter- mined to make them feel that they were gaining a daughter instead of losing a son. H< .OWEVER, while she finished her toilette, the girl decided she would speak with Nate on the subject, something she had hitherto not done, and ascertain from him the cause of their cool- ness or obtain the assurance that it was purely imaginary. With this thought in mind, she went down- stairs and was in time to see her mother make a hasty dab at tearful eyes with a handkerchief. Nell went swiftly to her. "Mother, you told me my en- gagement brought nothing but happiness to you." "I spoke the truth, my child. But in that happiness is a strange depression which you can never understand until your own daugh- ter is about to be taken from you." "My own daughter? Oh, moth- er, just to think that I may have a daughter of my very own! But I'll never be taken very far away from you. We three couldn't live if we were separated, could we?" And with an arm about their necks she drew the three heads together. Nathan Ever- ett had, unnoticed, come up to the open door. "I hope I'm not the subject of the plot you're hatching," he said. Nell hastening to welcome and let him in replied merrily, "Indeed you are; mother is half inclined to withdraw her consent to our mar- riage," "It's hardly that serious, Nate," Mrs. Redfield interposed, "though we cannot help feeling sad at the thought of having this little girl go from our home, even if she is not to be taken far." 1 HE young lady at the first opportunity asked Nate why his parents had changed in their attitude toward her. He could not conceal the fact that the ques- tion made him uncomfortable, and attempted to evade it; but the girl, made curious and somewhat piqued by his efforts, insisted upon a frank answer. "I can't imagine what's come over Dad," the young fellow re- plied dismally. "He's a perfect enigma on this subject, and so is mother. For months they encour- aged me to come here — not that I needed urging — then overnight they became as uncommunicative as the sphinx. A little while ago when father saw the serious turn in our affair, he asked me not to be in a hurry, to look around a little, even to go out with other girls. Of course that was absurd. You know how dearly I love him, although he is pretty stern at times, but he was asking too much. I'm of age and know my own mind. However, when he spoke to me the second time, I did give an unwill- ing promise not to propose for two months, and kept my word, hard as it was. "Last night I reminded him of the date and said I'd proposed and been accepted. Probably things had gone wrong in the office, for he was as grouchy as a bear, and mother- — well, she was upset too. But do you think I could worm anything out of them? Why, oysters are really talkative com- pared with my parents. I am sure they both loved you and also know you have done nothing to justify any change of feeling." 1 HE girl was hurt. "If your parents don't want me in the family, they need never have me. "They've got to want you. Your father and dad are old cro- nies; I wonder if he can't learn what the trouble is?" The matter was explained to Mr. Redfield who assured them he would ask for an explanation — even demand it — and that it should be done immediately. Learning by telephone that Mr. Everett was home and would be glad to see him, the judge left the house. He had hardly done so when Jessie Dean, the dearest of all Nell's friends, arrived. Jessie ex- cited good humor wherever she went and was a great favorite at the Redfield home. The two girls were so inseparable that an ac- quaintance had asked Nell how Nate would ever find a chance to propose unless he did it in Jessie's presence, and some friends pro- fessed to believe it was Jessie who would ultimately receive the pro- posal. Today, as Nell looked at her friend, she said: "Jessie, you are so radiant that a stranger would surely take you for the bride-to-be." "Well, you had better be care- ful, or I may cut you out and be the bride after all." SEVERAL hours la- ter, and after the visitors had left, Mr. Redfield returned home. All the elasticity was gone from his step, and he seemed to have be- come in one evening an old and broken man. His wife and daugh- ter were shocked at the ashy face and insisted on knowing the cause. "I had hoped to wait until to- morrow to tell a pitiful story," he said, "but distressing as it is I must relate it or have someone less sym- pathetic do it for me. "It concerns your parents, Lilly Nell, the parents who lie buried in Samoa and whom you remember (Continued on page 711) «* " Nate