THE TWILIGHT GUESTS
us—so good" and when he saw clearly again, the child was gone. Only the shadow lay upon the upper step of the porch, and the sunbeam was shrunken to a narrow path of light.
He stretched out his trembling hands and called sorrowfully to the boy. "Come back! O come back! I had forgotten so much! And the lilacs" but he was alone. And his hair was almost white. He covered his face with his hands and shivered. For the shadow was creeping up the porch.
And then over his chilled heart there came the breath of roses—summer roses. The air struck warm and soft upon his cheeks. And when he dropped his hands there stood in the sun-ray a straight tall youth. His eyes were shining with strength; his smile was happiness itself. In his firm brown hands he held roses—summer roses. The old man forgot to be afraid and raised himself on the cushions.
"Give them to me—give them!" he cried. The young man laughed low and laid the red flowers softly up against the withered cheeks. Then he sat down and took the cold, dry hands in his.
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