The Return; or, Who is It?

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

　　

---

"It's nearly a year now since I was home," said Lucy Gray to herhusband; "and so you must let me go for a few weeks."They had been married some four or five years, and never during thattime had been separated for a single night."I thought you called this your home," said Gray, looking up with amock-serious air."I mean my old home," replied Lucy, in a half-affected tone ofanger. "Or, to make it plain, I want to go, and see father andmother.""Can't you wait three or four months, until I can go with you?"asked the young husband."I want to go now. You said all along that I should go in May.""I know I did. But then I supposed that I would be able to go withyou.""Well, why can't you? I am sure you might, if you would.""No, Lucy, I cannot possibly leave home now. But if you are veryanxious to see the old folks, I can put you in the stage, and youwill go safely enough. Ellen and I can take care of little Lucy, nodoubt. How long a time do you wish to spend with them?""About three weeks or so?""Very well, Lucy, if you are not afraid to go lone, I have not aword to say.""I'm not afraid, dear," replied the wife in a voice hanged andsoftened in its expression. "But are you perfectly willing to let mego, Henry?""Oh, certainly," was answered, although the tone in which the wordswere uttered had in it something of reluctance. "It would be selfishin me to say no. Your father and mother will be delighted receive avisit just now.""And you think that you and Ellen can get along with little Lucy?""Oh yes, very well.""I should like to go so much.""Go, then, by all means.""But won't you be very lonesome without me?" suggested Lucy, inwhose own bosom a feeling of loneliness was already beginning to befelt at the bare idea of a separation from her husband."I can stand it as long as you," was Gray's laughing reply to this."And then I shall have our dear little Lucy."Mrs. Gray laughed in return, but did not feel as happy at the ideaof "going home" as she thought she would be before her husband'sconsent was gained. The desire to go, however, remaining strong, itwas finally settled that the visit should take place. So all thepreparations were made, and in the course of a week Henry Gray sawhis wife take her seat in the stage, with a feeling of regret atparting which it required all his efforts to conceal. As for Lucy,when the time came, she regretted ever having thought of goingwithout her husband and child; but she was ashamed to let her realfeelings be known. So she kept on a show of indifference, all thewhile that her heart was fluttering. The "good-bye" finally said,the driver cracked his whip, and off rolled the stage. Gray turnedhomeward with a dull, lonely feeling, and Lucy drew her vail overher face to conceal the unbidden tears from her fellow-passengers.That night, poor Mr. Gray slept but little. How could he? His Lucywas absent, and for the first time, from his side. On the. nextmorning, as he could think of nothing but his wife, he sat down andwrote to her, telling her how lost and lonely he felt, and how muchlittle Lucy missed her, but still to try and enjoy herself, and byall means to write him a letter by return mail.As for Mrs. Gray, during her journey of two whole days, she criedfully half the time, and when she got "home" at last, that is, ather father's, she looked the picture of distress, rather than thedaughter full of joy at meeting her parents.Right glad were the old people to see their dear child, but grievedat the same time, and a little hurt too, at her weakness and evidentregret at having left her husband, to make them a brief visit. Thereal pleasure that Lucy felt at once more seeing the faces of herparents, whom she tenderly loved, was not strong enough to subdueand keep in concealment, except for a very short period at a time,her yearning desire again to be with her husband, for whom she neverbefore experienced a feeling of such deep and earnest affection.Several times during the first day of her visit, did her motherfind, her in tears, which she would quickly dash aside, and thenendeavour to smile and seem cheerful.The day after her arrival brought her a letter--the first she hadever received from her husband. How precious was every word! Howoften and often did she read it over, until every line was engravenon her memory! Then she sat down, and spent some two or three hoursin replying to it. As she sealed this first epistle to her husband,full of tender expressions, she sighed as the wish arose in hermind, involuntarily, to go with it on its journey to the villageof----.Long were the hours, and wearily passed, to Henry Gray. It was thesixth day of trial, before Lucy's answer came. How dear to his heartwas every word of her affectionate epistle! Like her, he went overit so often, that every sentiment was fixed in his mind."Two weeks longer! How can I bear it?" said he, rising up, andpacing the floor backward and forward, after reading her letter forthe tenth time.On the next day, the seventh of his lonely state, Mr. Gray sat downto write again to Lucy. Several times he wrote the words, as heproceeded in the letter--"Come home soon,"--but often obliteratedthem. He did not wish to appear over anxious for her return, on herfather and mother's account, who were much attached to her. Butforgetting this reason for not urging her early return, he hadcommenced again writing the words, "Come home soon," when a pair ofsoft hands were suddenly placed over his eyes, by some one who hadstolen softly up behind him."Guess my name," said a voice, in feigned tones.But he had no need to guess, for a sudden cry of joy from a littletoddling thing, told that "Mamma" had come.How "Mamma" was hugged and kissed all round, need not here be told.That scene was well enough in its place, but would lose its interestin telling. It may be imagined, however, without suffering anyparticular detriment, by all who have a fancy for such things."And father, too!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Gray, after he had almostsmothered his wife with kisses, looking up with an expression ofpleasure and surprise, at an old man, who stood looking on with hisgood-humoured face covered with smiles."Yes. I had to bring the good-for-nothing jade home," replied theold man advancing, and grasping his son-in-law's hand, with a heartygrip. "She did nothing but mope and cry all the while; and I don'tcare if she never comes to see us again, unless she brings you alongto keep her in good humour.""And I never intend going alone again," said Mrs. Gray, holding alittle chubby girl to her bosom, while she kissed it over and overagain, at the same time that he pressed close up to her husband'sside.The old man understood it all. He was not jealous of Lucy'saffection, for he knew that she loved him as tenderly as ever. Hewas too glad to know that she was happy with a husband to whom shewas as the apple of his eye. In about three months Lucy made anothervisit "home." But husband and child were along this time, and thevisit proved a happy one all around. Of course "father and mother"had their jest, and their laugh, and their affectation of jealousyand anger at Lucy for her "childishness," as they termed it, whenhome in May; but Lucy, though half vexed at herself for what shecalled her weakness, nevertheless persevered in saying that shenever meant to go any where again without Henry. "That was settled."

---

---