I have not seen her since that day. She left the
college sUddetly, and I never heard itoxa her. L5ok-
ing back now, I see that she had to go; for I cannot
convince myself that we had anything that she
needed, and what she oflEered us we did not know how
to take. Nevertheless the surprise of not finding her
here keeps hurting me. Incredulously I go back to the
places in which I used to see her; she is Hot there, and
they can never be perfect for me without her. Yet
sometimes I have fancied that I heard her voice.
Sometimes familiar faces have a fleeting resemblance
162



THE MISSING TYPE

to hers. Then I wonder why it was that we could not
make room for her among us, and whether it may not
be that some day she will come back to us, and we
shall understand her.
— Helm Love Hart, 1912.
THE AWAKENING

When sunrise flushed the summer sky
And purple clouds grew bright,

And little birds sang sweet and low.
Awaking with the light,

I thought your voice was calling me;

My heart was hushed to hear.
For I had waked from fairy dreams

And seemed to find you near.
And though I knew it was the wind

That stirred the garden fair,
I think I saw you smiling then,

With sunlight on your hair.
— Helen C. Crane, 1911.
164



HEPATICA

Bbown fields are lying still in winter sleep,

The wind is chill;
But I have found the blue hepatica

Upon the hiU.
Like child eyes, sweet and shy, they open wide

To sun and showers;
And though the fields are brown, I see in these

A world of flowers.
— Helen C. Crane, 1911.
