“Marion Clarke’s Father.
“P.S. The bearer of this letter is Alfred Rawley, your grandmother’s youngest brother!”
In spite of her bewilderment, her first thought was, “So he was really Marion’s father!” Next spring she would beg him to give Tessie the holiday that he had offered her that Christmastide in the twilight of the church.
Joshua Lane capered about like a young kid as his wife tried to chase him into a corner, exclaiming, “Now you jest up and tell me how long you’ve known all this, and not told your lawful wife!”
“Wal, let me see,” he said, counting on his fingers; “considerable longer than it’ll take us to eat supper,” was all the answer she received.
******
That night Bird opened her bedroom window and looked out into the frosty moonlight, where far away in the distance the runaway Christmas trees were outlined against the sky and the roots of red peony that Lammy planted were waiting under the ground for their spring blooming time to come. Stretching out her arms as she drew in great reviving breaths of the clear, frosty air, then clasping her hands together, she whispered, “Terry, dear, you know it all; you know your Bird is free again, and that she remembers, and now you must help her to fly the right way.”
