epilogue-第2章

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dined　in　her　own　room；　he　went　down　to　dinner　with



Tillie；　and　never　looked　bored　or　absent…minded　when



she　chattered。　　He　took　her　to　the　hall　the　first　time



Thea　sang　there；　and　sat　in　the　box　with　her　and　helped



her　through　〃Lohengrin。〃　　After　the　first　act；　when　Tillie



turned　tearful　eyes　to　him　and　burst　out；　〃I　don't　care；



she　always　seemed　grand　like　that；　even　when　she　was　a



girl。　　I　expect　I'm　crazy；　but　she　just　seems　to　me　full　of



all　them　old　times！〃Ottenburg　was　so　sympathetic















and　patted　her　hand　and　said；　〃But　that's　just　what　she



is；　full　of　the　old　times；　and　you　are　a　wise　woman　to　see



it。〃　　Yes；　he　said　that　to　her。　　Tillie　often　wondered　how



she　had　been　able　to　bear　it　when　Thea　came　down　the



stairs　in　the　wedding　robe　embroidered　in　silver；　with　a



train　so　long　it　took　six　women　to　carry　it。







　　　　　Tillie　had　lived　fifty…odd　years　for　that　week；　but　she



got　it；　and　no　miracle　was　ever　more　miraculous　than　that。



When　she　used　to　be　working　in　the　fields　on　her　father's



Minnesota　farm；　she　couldn't　help　believing　that　she



would　some　day　have　to　do　with　the　〃wonderful；〃　though



her　chances　for　it　had　then　looked　so　slender。







　　　　　The　morning　after　the　sociable；　Tillie；　curled　up　in　bed；



was　roused　by　the　rattle　of　the　milk　cart　down　the　street。



Then　a　neighbor　boy　came　down　the　sidewalk　outside　her



window；　singing　〃Casey　Jones〃　as　if　he　hadn't　a　care　in



the　world。　　By　this　time　Tillie　was　wide　awake。　　The



twin's　question；　and　the　subsequent　laughter；　came　back



with　a　faint　twinge。　　Tillie　knew　she　was　short…sighted



about　facts；　but　this　time　　Why；　there　were　her　scrap…



books；　full　of　newspaper　and　magazine　articles　about　Thea；



and　half…tone　cuts；　snap…shots　of　her　on　land　and　sea；　and



photographs　of　her　in　all　her　parts。　　There；　in　her　parlor；　was



the　phonograph　that　had　come　from　Mr。　Ottenburg　last



June；　on　Thea's　birthday；　she　had　only　to　go　in　there　and



turn　it　on；　and　let　Thea　speak　for　herself。　　Tillie　finished



brushing　her　white　hair　and　laughed　as　she　gave　it　a　smart



turn　and　brought　it　into　her　usual　French　twist。　　If　Moon…



stone　doubted；　she　had　evidence　enough：　in　black　and



white；　in　figures　and　photographs；　evidence　in　hair　lines



on　metal　disks。　　For　one　who　had　so　often　seen　two　and



two　as　making　six；　who　had　so　often　stretched　a　point；



added　a　touch；　in　the　good　game　of　trying　to　make　the



world　brighter　than　it　is；　there　was　positive　bliss　in　having



such　deep　foundations　of　support。　　She　need　never　tremble



in　secret　lest　she　might　sometime　stretch　a　point　in　Thea's















favor。　　Oh；　the　comfort；　to　a　soul　too　zealous；　of　having



at　last　a　rose　so　red　it　could　not　be　further　painted；　a　lily



so　truly　auriferous　that　no　amount　of　gilding　could　exceed



the　fact！







　　　　　Tillie　hurried　from　her　bedroom；　threw　open　the　doors



and　windows；　and　let　the　morning　breeze　blow　through



her　little　house。







　　　　　In　two　minutes　a　cob　fire　was　roaring　in　her　kitchen



stove；　in　five　she　had　set　the　table。　　At　her　household　work



Tillie　was　always　bursting　out　with　shrill　snatches　of　song；



and　as　suddenly　stopping；　right　in　the　middle　of　a　phrase；



as　if　she　had　been　struck　dumb。　　She　emerged　upon　the



back　porch　with　one　of　these　bursts；　and　bent　down　to　get



her　butter　and　cream　out　of　the　ice…box。　　The　cat　was



purring　on　the　bench　and　the　morning…glories　were　thrust…



ing　their　purple　trumpets　in　through　the　lattice…work　in　a



friendly　way。　　They　reminded　Tillie　that　while　she　was



waiting　for　the　coffee　to　boil　she　could　get　some　flowers



for　her　breakfast　table。　　She　looked　out　uncertainly　at　a



bush　of　sweet…briar　that　grew　at　the　edge　of　her　yard；　off



across　the　long　grass　and　the　tomato　vines。　　The　front



porch；　to　be　sure；　was　dripping　with　crimson　ramblers



that　ought　to　be　cut　for　the　good　of　the　vines；　but　never



the　rose　in　the　hand　for　Tillie！　　She　caught　up　the　kitchen



shears　and　off　she　dashed　through　grass　and　drenching　dew。



Snip；　snip；　the　short…stemmed　sweet…briars；　salmon…pink



and　golden…hearted；　with　their　unique　and　inimitable　woody



perfume；　fell　into　her　apron。







　　　　　After　she　put　the　eggs　and　toast　on　the　table；　Tillie



took　last　Sunday's　New　York　paper　from　the　rack　beside



the　cupboard　and　sat　down；　with　it　for　company。　　In　the



Sunday　paper　there　was　always　a　page　about　singers；　even



in　summer；　and　that　week　the　musical　page　began　with　a



sympathetic　account　of　Madame　Kronborg's　first　per…



formance　of　ISOLDE　in　London。　　At　the　end　of　the　notice；



there　was　a　short　paragraph　about　her　having　sung　for　the















King　at　Buckingham　Palace　and　having　been　presented



with　a　jewel　by　His　Majesty。







　　　　　Singing　for　the　King；　but　Goodness！　she　was　always



doing　things　like　that！　　Tillie　tossed　her　head。　　All　through



breakfast　she　kept　sticking　her　sharp　nose　down　into　the



glass　of　sweet…briar；　with　the　old　incredible　lightness　of



heart；　like　a　child's　balloon　tugging　at　its　string。　　She　had



always　insisted；　against　all　evidence；　that　life　was　full　of



fairy　tales；　and　it　was！　　She　had　been　feeling　a　little　down；



perhaps；　and　Thea　had　answered　her；　from　so　far。　　From



a　common　person；　now；　if　you　were　troubled；　you　might



get　a　letter。　　But　Thea　almost　never　wrote　letters。　　She



answered　every　one；　friends　and　foes　alike；　in　one　way；



her　own　way；　her　only　way。　　Once　more　Tillie　has　to　re…



mind　herself　that　it　is　all　true；　and　is　not　something　she　has



〃made　up。〃　　Like　all　romancers；　she　is　a　little　terrified　at



seeing　one　of　her　wildest　conceits　admitted　by　the　hard…



headed　world。　　If　our　dream　comes　true；　we　are　almost



afraid　to　believe　it；　for　that　is　the　best　of　all　good　fortune；



and　nothing　better　can　happen　to　any　of　us。







　　　　　When　the　people　on　Sylvester　Street　tire　of　Tillie's



stories；　she　goes　over　to　the　east　part　of　town；　where　her



legends　are　always　welcome。　　The　humbler　people　of



Moonstone　still　live　there。　　The　same　little　houses　sit



under　the　cottonwoods；　the　men　smoke　their　pipes　in　the



front　doorways；　and　the　women　do　their　washing　in　the



back　yard。　　The　older　women　remember　Thea；　and　how



she　used　to　come　kicking　her　express　wagon　along　the　side…



walk；　steering　by　the　tongue　and　holding　Thor　in　her　lap。



Not　much　happens　in　that　part　of　town；　and　the　people



have　long　memories。　　A　boy　grew　up　on　one　of　those



streets　who　went　to　Omaha　and　built　up　a　great　business；



and　is　now　very　rich。　　Moonstone　people　always　speak　of



him　and　Thea　together；　as　examples　of　Moonstone　enter…



prise。　　They　do；　however；　talk　oftener　of　Thea。　　A　voice　has



even　a　wider　appeal　than　a　fortune。　　It　is　the　one　gift　that















all　creatures　would　possess　if　they　could。　　Dreary　Maggie



Evans；　dead　nearly　twenty　years；　is　still　remembered　be…



cause　Thea　sang　at　her　funeral　〃after　she　had　studied　in



Chicago。〃







　　　　　However　much　they　may　smile　at　her；　the　old　inhabi…



tants　would　miss　Tillie。　　Her　stories　give　them　something



to　talk　about　and　to　conjecture　about；　cut　off　as　they　are



from　the　restless　currents　of　the　world。　　The　many　naked



little　sandbars　which　lie　between　Venice　and　the　main…



land；　in　the　seemingly　stagnant　water　of　the　lagoons；　are



made　habitable　and　wholesome　only　because；　every　night；



a　foot　and　a　half　of　tide　creeps　in　from　the　sea　and　winds



its　fresh　brine　up　through　all　that　network　of　s