Mary's Rainbow

by Mary Edward Feehan

Sister Dominic sighed. So did Wilhelmina.

And still, between this harum-scarum little girl and Mary there sprang up a warm friendship, which grew stronger and stronger as the years went on, each of the children gaining much from the good traits she found in the other.

During the fall and winter, many things which Mary had heard about the wreck passed and repassed through her busy little brain; and at last she made up her mind that the stories did not agree, and that there must be a mistake somewhere. She spoke of the matter to her uncle; but he insisted that everything possible had been done at the time of the wreck to make sure that there was no mistake. Mary was not convinced and began praying to our Blessed Mother to obtain for her light and guidance. Many a half hour she spent in the chapel, besides denying herself candy and other goodies; and her belief that her dear ones had not been lost in the wreck grew stronger and stronger as the bright spring days went by. Where they were, why they had sent no word of their rescue, she had no idea; but she felt sure that our Lady would in some way make it known to her. So she prayed and trusted and made hundreds of little acts of self-denial.

And then——then things began to happen so quickly as almost to take her breath away.

One night in the early part of June, she went to bed wondering how many more prayers she would have to say before her uncle would begin to feel as she did; and the very next morning, she noticed a marked change in him. She did not ask what had caused it. It was enough for her to know that her prayers had at last been partly answered. And beyond asking a few questions and showing unusual restlessness, the Doctor said nothing of the story he had heard from a boy who had been saved from the wreck, and who insisted that Mrs. Selwyn had been in the same lifeboat and had reached Bordeaux, France, very ill, but still alive. But the fact that she had sent no word of her rescue made the Doctor fear that she had died before she was able to do so; and he made up his mind not to arouse Mary's hopes until he was perfectly sure that there was no danger of her being again cruelly disappointed. He at once began to make use of every means in his power to follow up the slight clue the boy had given him; but it was not through notices in the newspapers, nor through his visits to all the hospitals and orphan asylums in Bordeaux, nor through the efforts of the many detectives employed on the case that Mary's trusting prayer was answered. An errand of pure charity brought the Doctor face to face with his loved sister. The sight of him and the sound of his voice restored her memory, which she had completely lost as a result of the shock of the wreck.

And six weeks later Mary's cup of happiness was filled to overflowing by the sudden return of her father, who had been captured, but not killed as was reported, by a savage tribe in India.

On the eighth of September, our Blessed Mother's birthday, there was a wonderful family gathering in the big east parlor at Maryvale, where Mother Madeline listened, her eyes filled with grateful tears, to the story which Mr. Selwyn told.

And the twins! the dear, mischief-loving, four-year-old twins were hugged and kissed and petted until, if their little curly heads had not been so filled with "s'prises" which they were planning for everyone present, they would have been badly spoiled that day.

Then, to Mary's delight, the whole family walked across the lawn and through the orchard to the little gate in the low stone wall which separated Maryvale from Bird-a-Lea, a beautiful place east of the convent. Here Mother Madeline left them to continue their way over the velvety lawn to the big, homey-looking, gray stone house with its roof of warm red tiles. On the wide porch, which ran all the way around the house, sat Mrs. Elliot, a dear old lady who owned this beautiful home. The Doctor had met her once before, and Mary knew her quite well, for she and Wilhelmina had often been sent to her with messages from Mother Madeline. She wished to sell Bird-a-Lea; and while Mr. and Mrs. Selwyn and the Doctor talked matters over with her, Mary took the little ones to see the big bird cage around near the barn. It was built so as to enclose two small trees in which rare birds sang and flitted about. Next to it stood a small house where these birds lived during the winter; for they had been brought from warm countries and would die if left out in the cold. Besides these beautiful birds, there were peacocks strutting about under the great old trees; while robins, bluebirds, orioles, and other birds which the children had often seen before came quite close to them, and frisky gray squirrels peeped around the trunks of the trees at them.

Returning to the front porch, the children learned that Bird-a-Lea was to be their new home; and the twins were much disappointed because they could not take off their hats and begin to live there at once.