The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prodigal Returns, by Lilian Staveley

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

Title: The Prodigal Returns

Author: Lilian Staveley

Release Date: July 18, 2009 [EBook #29450]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRODIGAL RETURNS ***

Produced by Ruth Hart

THE PRODIGAL RETURNS

By

Lilian Staveley
The Author of "The Golden Fountain" and "The Romance of the
Soul"

London
John M. Watkins
21 Cecil Court, Charing Cross Road, W.C. 2
1921

CONTENTS

Part I. 7
Part II. 63
Part III. 81
Part IV. 102
Part V. 151

PART I

Sunshine and a garden path . . . flowers . . . the face and neck and
bosom of the nurse upon whose heart I lay, and her voice telling me
that she must leave me, that we must part, and immediately after
anguish--blotting out the sunshine, the flowers, the face, the voice.
This is my first recollection of Life--the pain of love. I was two
years old.

Nothing more for two years--and then the picture of a pond and my
baby brother floating on it, whilst with agonised hands I seized his
small white coat and held him fast.

And then a meadow full of long, deep grass and summer flowers,
and I--industriously picking buttercups into a tiny petticoat to take to
cook, "to make the butter with," I said.

And then a table spread for tea. Our nurses, my two brothers, and
myself. Angry words and screaming baby voices, a knife thrown by
my little brother. Rage and hate.

And then a wedding, and I a bridesmaid, aged five years--the church,
the altar, and great awe, and afterwards a long white table, white
flowers, and a white Bride. Grown men on either side of
me--smilingly delightful, tempting me with sweets and cakes and wine,
and a new strange interest rising in me like a little flood of
exultation--the joy of the world, and the first faint breath of the
mystery of sex.

Then came winters of travel. Sunshine and mimosa, olive trees
against an azure sky. Climbing winding, stony paths between green
terraces, tulips and anemones and vines; white sunny walls and
lizards; green frogs and deep wells fringed around with maidenhair.
Mountains and a sea of lapis blue,