Page:Harvey O'Higgins--Don-a-dreams.djvu/162

 the ecstasy of such days as this; and looking out over the rustling maples that lined the street and reached their topmost branches almost to the level of his window-sill, he watched the stars brightening peacefully in the dark blue of the sky, above the blind roofs of the houses on the slope below him, feeling himself in tune with the joyful order of the universe and pitying the busy absorption of the inmates of those houses, imprisoned under their shingles, ignorant of the happy night that sparkled above them in its eternal calm. He went over the memory of his afternoon, incident by incident, like a miser counting the day's gains; and he only turned from it to thoughts of a future rich with the golden promise of many such days. The moon swung itself up among the horizon clouds, majestically; and it was no longer to him the skull of a dead world, hung in the heavens as a memento mori to this still warm earth and its inhabitants; it was the moon of lovers, the glimmering summer moon, whose light was all poetry and pallid gentleness and quiet thoughts. He rested his chin in his hands and smiled at it like a boy listening to a fairy tale.

It was midnight before he heard Conroy stumbling up the porch steps. He lit his lamp, and began to unlace his shoes, guiltily aware that Conroy would be surprised to find him up so late. It was this thought that made him ask his cousin, as soon as he came in, "Well, what kept you?" When he received no answer, he looked over his shoulder, smiling confusedly, and saw Conroy standing with his hand on the door-knob, swaying.