He leaped into her arms--found her wet eyes with his lips. "Mother!"
he cried.
"My son!" she said.
He turned again to the flaming cross--a little smile of defiance upon his lips. But the defiance pa.s.sed swiftly: for it was then revealed to him that his mother was good; and he knew that what the cross signified would continue with him, wherever he went, that goodness and peace might abide within his heart. Hand in hand, while the thunder still rolled and the rain came driving with the wind, they hurried away towards the Box Street tenement....
Let them go! Why not? Let them depart into their world! It needs them. They will glorify it. Nor will they suffer loss. Let them go!
Love flourishes in the garden of the world we know. Virtue is forever in bloom. Let them go to their place! Why should we wish to deprive the unsightly wilderness of its flowers? Let the tenderness of this mother and son continue to grace it!
[Ill.u.s.tration: Tailpiece to _The Last Appeal_]
THE END