THE MIGNONETTE HOUSE 



15 



There was some reason back of it all, too. 

 She said that she had cut nearly all she 

 had, something she had never done before, 

 for a sick neighbor. Then an accident had 

 happened to the boxes she had almost 

 ready to put new in her window, so she 

 couldn^t possibly spare the little that was 

 left. It seemed to make her feel bad, so 

 I told her it was all right, and came away. 

 And I'm hardly gone when she changes 

 her mind, comes and gives. me this, and 

 asks to be forgiven.'' 



For many days the boxes sat in the win- 

 dow, bare and neglected. To me it was a 

 sad sight. One Friday after this, Miss 

 West, our principal, came home with me 

 to spend our holiday, and as we passed the 

 house she exclaimed, "Wh}^, what has 

 happened to Elinor Murrey's window 

 boxes? In thirty years they have never 

 looked like that before." 



•'Do you know her ?" I cried. "And can 

 you tell me about the mignonette?" 



That evening Miss West, a girlhood 

 friend of Mrs. Murrey, told us her story. 



"Elinor MuTrey was a bride of two 

 months when she and her husband had 

 their first quarrel. It was about a friend 

 of Philip's, a man whom she greatly dis- 

 trusted, and time proved her right. She 

 was twenty, and he two years older, and 

 neither was very wise in some things. One 

 day he brought home a little box of mig- 

 nonette given him by this friend's mother, 

 an excellent woman. He set the box on 

 the table too near the edge, and by acci- 

 dent she knocked it off. Then he accused 

 her of doing it from spite. She never 

 replied, but shut her lips tight and would 

 not speak to him. 



"It was Vv^ar time. He enlisted, and 

 marched away, and not one good-by was 

 said. Suddenly Elinor realized her folly, 

 and repented bitterly. She did not try to 

 excuse herself at all, and bore meekly the 

 reproaches heaped upon her by Philip's 

 mother. She never saw Philip again. Of 

 course he was killed and buried in some 

 unknown grave. Everyone thinks so, but 

 Elinor. She might have married again, 



but she does not consider herself free, and 

 lives on in the same house where they 

 began housekeeping, awaiting his return. 

 She is sure he is living, and would give 

 anything to have him back. In the hope 

 that he may see it, she has for all these 

 3^ears kept mignonette growing in her win- 

 dow — the sign of her repentance. She 

 believes he will understand. Few could 

 have such trust. Some call it foolish. I 

 say it is beautiful." 



Weeks had passed, and once more the 

 window was beautiful with its accustomed 

 greenness, when, one evening, I noticed 

 near me an old man looking eagerly from 

 the window, and talking to himself fre- 

 quently. "If it's only there ! If it's only 

 there !" I heard him say again and again. 

 When Mrs. Murrey's house came into view 

 he gave a shout that startled everybody, 

 and left the car. The next night I saw in 

 the window two happy young-old faces. 

 I was sure that Philip had returned. 



Yes, Philip had returned. Miss West 

 told me later, but this was not more won- 

 derful than the means by which it came 

 about. At the close of the war he was 

 ashamed to go home, so he went West, and 

 after a few years to Japan. Everything 

 that he put his hand to seemed to prosper, 

 but nothing could take the place of the 

 lost wife and the lost home. She was mar- 

 ried again and happy, he told himself, 

 and he must never see her. This was the 

 price (5f his folly. Business often brought 

 him to America, and on one of these trips 

 he was storm-stayed in a mining camp 

 with a young man who in the course of 

 conversation related an odd incident of 

 a gift of a bunch of mignonette. His com- 

 panion was interested, asked many ques- 

 tions, and soon learned what almost made 

 him wild with joy, and yet what was al- 

 most incredible. His Elinor was true, 

 and she was waiting for him. What else 

 could this mean ? So he went to her. and 

 they gladly took up the broken threads 

 together, both the better for the separa- 

 tion. The mignonette still grows in the 

 bow window. 



