g to
rights what had been wrong, the smile was held, and it was as if Howie
lingered, as if in leaving life he looked back over his shoulder and
waited--waited for his smile to reach Laura. Out of the jumble and
blur--out of the wrong and meaningless--Howie's beautiful steady smile
_making it all right_.
She could not have told how it happened. As Howie passed, she turned to
the little girl beside her whose head was without support and, not
waking her, supported the child's head against her own arm. And after
she had done this--it was after she had done it that she began to know,
as if doing it let down bars.
Now she was knowing. She had wanted to push people aside and reach into
the shadows for Howie. She began to see that it was not so she would
reach him. It was in being as he had been--kind, caring--that she could
have a sense of him near. Here was her chance--among the people she had
thought stood between her and her chance. Howie had always cared for
these people. On his way through the world with them he had always
stopped to do the kind thing--as he stopped to make it right for the
badly muzzled dog. Then there _was_ something for her to do in the
world. She could do the kind things Howie would be doing if he were
there! It would somehow--keep him. It would--fulfill him. Yes, fulfill
him. Howie had made her more alive--warmer and kinder. If she became as
she had been before--Howie would have failed. She moved so that the
little girl who rested against her could rest the better. And as she did
this--it was as if Howie had smiled. The one thing the picture had never
given her--the sense that it was hers to keep--that stole through her
now as the things come which we know we can never lose. For the first
moment since she lost him, she had him. And all the people in that
theater, and all the people in the world--_here_ was the truth! It
cleared and righted as Howie's smile had righted the picture. In so far
as she could come close to others she would come closer to him.
THE HARBOR MASTER[12]
By RICHARD MATTHEWS HALLET
(From _Harper's Magazine_)
Coming ashore one summer's night from Meteor Island, Jethro Rackby was
met by Peter Loud--Deep-water Peter he was called, because even so early
he had gone one foreign voyage. Peter was going round with a paper
containing the subscription to a dance.
"Come, Harbor Master," he said; "put your thumb mark in the corner along
with the rest of us."
Rackb
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