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_Title:_ Paper Lanterns
_Date of first publication:_ 1923
_Author:_ Beatrice Redpath (1886-1937)
_Date first posted:_ July 10, 2026
_Date last updated:_ July 10, 2026
Faded Page eBook #20260722

This eBook was produced by: John Routh & the online Distributed
Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net




                          [Cover Illustration]




                             PAPER LANTERNS


                          By Beatrice Redpath

They were lighting the paper lanterns in the garden. Spots of bright
yellow, of pink and red and blue were scattered among the dark, still
trees. The lanterns trembled on their thin wires. Some of the candles
flickered and went out. Figures passed up and down the paths, carrying
lighted tapers. Meta caught David’s arm, pressing against him.

“Oh, look dear! The little blue lantern!”

She could feel more than see the amused smile that came into his face.
She knew what he was thinking; that she was being rather silly getting
so excited just because a few people were coming in to dance, and they
were having paper lanterns lighted in the garden. Of course it wasn’t
because of that at all. It was because it was so splendid to be home
again after being away for a whole month; to be able to squeeze David’s
arm and look up into his dear, dear face. That was why she was so
excited. Didn’t he know?

She glanced happily down at her new blue dress; frills, crisp as though
they were made of tissue paper; blue satin slippers with a tiny diamond
rosette winking up at her. She put her face against David’s sleeve. She
felt just as though she were a blue paper lantern, all burning with
brightness inside.

“Dear,” she whispered, “it’s so good to be back.”

He moved restlessly and pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket. Meta
looked over her shoulder at the nursery window.

“I wonder if Betty has seen the lanterns,” she exclaimed. “I must run up
and tell her to look out of the window before she goes to sleep. You
wait here, David, in case someone comes.”

She turned indoors and ran up the stairs. The nursery door was half
open. Betty was lying curled up in a little ball under the bed clothes.

“Sleepy, precious? Mum wants you to see the lanterns in the garden. They
are so pretty. Betty, sit up and look!”

Betty sat up sleepily, rubbing her eyes with the back of one fat hand.
She gave a crow of delight as she peered out of the window. So many
lanterns were lighted now. Every tree had a bright hanging spot of
color. The leaves on the trees looked as though they were made of
silver; the grass was quite gray in the soft, diffused light. Meta sat
down on the side of the bed and looked out into the garden.

“Do you see that little blue lantern? No—that one over there. Well,
perhaps when you’re grown up, and married to a man you love very, very
much, you may have a party, and wear a blue dress, and you’ll feel just
like that blue lantern, all burning brightness inside.”

Betty stared with round inquiring eyes. Meta gave her a tight hug.

“Oh, what rubbish Mum’s talking. Go to sleep now. Take your nice glass
of milk, darling.”

Miss Carlisle was in the hall just outside the nursery. Meta stopped
impetuously. She wanted the nursery governess to have some of the fun.

“Come downstairs as soon as Betty is asleep, Miss Carlisle. The garden
looks so pretty. Have you seen the lanterns?”

Miss Carlisle responded that she had seen them, her mouth drawn into a
tight red knot. Then the governess passed on into the nursery with a
slight inclination of her head. Meta stood looking after her. What an
oyster of a person! Never a bit friendly, no matter how hard she tried
to be nice to her. Always making her feel as though she had been rather
condescending in her manner. She didn’t mean to be; she tried so hard to
be nice to Miss Carlisle. But the governess shut herself quickly into
her close gray shell every time. It worried her—more than ever it
worried her tonight when she was so happy herself. She did want everyone
to be happy. How funny it was that she should feel so excited just to be
back with David again; and they had been married four years. That didn’t
seem to make any difference. She did feel so like that blue lantern.

She smiled to herself as she went along the hall. She could hear voices
downstairs and laughter. David was down there. Women always liked David,
but he never cared for them. She loved him to be like that. Oh, just
thinking of him tonight made her feel as though the little flame inside
her was burning so brightly that it made her tremble all over. It was
silly of course, awfully silly!

She came around the turn in the stairs and saw them all standing in the
hall. They had tossed off their wraps just anyhow. The black chest in
the hall was piled high with colored wraps. How smooth Adine’s hair was!
It looked as though it had been polished. And her dress—lovely! David
was talking to her. She was sure that he wasn’t noticing at all how
pretty Adine was with her polished hair, and her flying eyebrows, her
tip-tilted nose. Adine always looked as though she were ready to take an
adventurous flight through life. If she were a man she would want to
hold Adine back.

David never seemed to see how sweet Adine was to look at. He looked
quite relieved now when she reached the bottom step and Adine turned
round from him to speak to her.

“My dear—the garden—all the lanterns—they’re simply lovely. Whose
idea was it?” she cried turning back to David.

Adine’s voice always came in gasps.

Everyone was talking at once; everyone laughing and saying rather silly
things with so much emphasis that they sounded almost clever. Then the
music started in the room where the floor looked like pale yellow ice.
Through the windows as she danced she could see the lanterns, gay spots
of color bobbing about there in the dark, still night, she was so happy;
it was so gay.

She wondered if that oyster of a person had come downstairs. She didn’t
like to think of her shut up in Betty’s dark, quiet nursery. Oh, there
was David. She loved to see his head bent slightly forward, listening to
what his partner was saying. His hair looked like a blackbird’s wing.
She flashed him a smile as she went past, but he didn’t notice.

She grew tired of dancing, her face seemed to feel as though it were
fixed into a stiff, stiff smile. Her throat ached with trying to talk so
as to be heard above the music. It would be ever so much nicer in the
garden, out there alone; or she might find David. She slipped through a
long window and the music became fainter, was just a throb—a rhythmic
beat. Out here it was so quiet and big and restful. Lots of the lanterns
had gone out. She wondered if she would bother lighting them again, then
decided it was too much trouble.

She crossed the cool gray-colored grass. The paths were like strips of
silver. The moon looked rather pale in comparison to the bright bobbing
lanterns. The shadows were deep and thick. How delicious the night
was!—so much nicer than the day. During the day all your feelings ran
around and dipped into so many things; but at night everything seemed to
sharpen down to a small bright point—like the point of a star—just
David.

There he was now! She could always tell his shoulders. Who was he with?
Not Adine? Oh—Oh!

She put her hands up to her cheeks. They burned as though—oh! as though
she were ashamed. She shrank back against the hedge, her eyes staring so
hard that she felt that they must feel them like gimlets boring into
them. Who was it? Oh, who had David kissed? They were walking away now
slowly in the direction of the vegetable garden where it was very dark.
Who was it? She couldn’t make out at all. They passed in front of a
lantern. It was—Miss Carlisle!

It couldn’t be, oh! it couldn’t be. If he had kissed Adine it would only
have been because she looked so pretty; that would have been quite
different. But you wouldn’t kiss someone like Miss Carlisle unless, oh!
unless it was something much more than just a kiss.

What was she to do? Tell David that she knew all about it? She couldn’t
do that, for that would end everything. What was she to do? All the
burning brightness had died down inside her; the blue lantern had gone
out.

She couldn’t wait outside here either. She would have to go in and dance
again. People would think it queer of her to wander away by herself.
David—David was down in the vegetable garden where it was so very dark.

She walked quickly across the grass, ran up the steps, and went through
the lighted hall. The music seemed like great bright waves, splashing
all over her. Someone asked her to dance, and she whirled into the room
not noticing whom she was with. Just a black sleeve and a white shirt
front. David was in the vegetable garden where it was so very dark and
still.

She wondered what would happen. Would Miss Carlisle go away? Or, would
she stay and walk in the vegetable garden with David every evening? He
couldn’t do that. She didn’t suppose he loved her, cared about her,
wanted to marry her—it wasn’t that. They had been together all the time
that she had been away. She wondered what Miss Carlisle was like when
she was with David. The same oyster or quite different?

Different, she supposed, with horrid swimmy eyes and that red mouth that
was always twisted so tightly whenever she spoke to her. Now she knew
why. And all the time that she had been burning so brightly for David,
he hadn’t been giving her a thought.

The music stopped and the black arm slipped away from her waist. She was
so tired of them all, she wished so much that they would all go home;
and yet she didn’t want to be left alone with David. There was the music
starting again, here was another black arm slipping around her waist.
Her feet moved mechanically in time to the music. There was David now,
standing in the doorway. Where was Miss Carlisle?

They were all coming up to her to say what a b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l time they
had had. She stood feeling as though her face was made of wax. David was
to drive Adine home. There was so much fuss, everyone arranging who was
to go with whom. She wondered what Adine and David would talk about. She
wouldn’t be able to talk to him when they were alone any more.

At last they were all gone. The house looked upset and strange as she
passed through the hall. Chairs where chairs shouldn’t be, rugs pulled
any way; she felt just as strange herself.

She went slowly upstairs and switched on the light in her room. Then she
switched it off again and went over to the open window, sat down on the
window seat, staring out into the quiet, still garden.

The lanterns were going out. The evening was finished; oh! everything
was finished. Pointed shadows from the trees stretched across the silky
grass. The moon seemed brighter now that the lanterns had gone out, so
round and bright and indifferent. She shrank back behind the window
frame to avoid the placid face of the moon.

She hated David. Oh! hated him. How could he, how could he? That woman
with her tight red mouth! How could he? Yes, she hated him.

The moon seemed to be slipping across the window so as to look at her.
It was staring right at her, smiling—yes, smiling all over its wide
bright face. The moon—laughing at her—staring into her window with
that wise, placid smile.

Another lantern flickered out. A thin film of cloud drifted across the
face of the moon, hiding its smile. It was growing very dark in the
garden. She leaned her head against the window. She was too tired to
think any more.

There were voices downstairs and people running. She started up quickly
just as a knock came on her door. The door was pushed ajar and she could
see Miss Carlisle outlined against the light in the hall.

“Mr. Dale has had an accident.”

“An accident! How—What?”

She was already at the door, flying down the hall. Some men were helping
David into his room. She saw that he had a bandage around his head and
that his face was terribly white. Her heart was like a hammer
beating—beating—until it hurt.

“It’s not serious, Mrs. Dale.” It was the young doctor who lived next
door who was speaking. “At first we were afraid it was a good deal
worse. He had a bad smash coming through the gate. The lanterns confused
him. We’ll just keep him quiet for a few days and he’ll be all right.
Nothing for you to worry about.”

                 *        *        *        *        *

Morning. A pale gray light filled the windows. Meta got out of her chair
and stretched her arms above her head. She felt so stiff, so tired.
David had had a good night, but she wouldn’t leave him. He opened his
eyes now, and she bent and patted the creases out of his pillows.

“Have this nice glass of milk, darling.”

She started. That was the tone she used when she spoke to Betty. Funny!
She had never spoken to David in just that tone before. Poor David. What
a long, long time it seemed since last night. David did such silly
things. She felt as though she wanted to take him into her arms, just as
she took Betty in her arms when she had done something silly.

She hadn’t seen Miss Carlisle. Stupid woman. She didn’t seem to mind her
any more. She and David—both so silly.

She went over to the window and stood looking down into the garden. A
drizzling rain was falling, wetting the gray slates outside the window,
making them quite black and shining. Some of the lanterns were still
hanging from the trees, wet and bedraggled. The blue lantern was still
there. She smiled a little crooked smile. It would never burn with that
same brightness again. Somehow, everything was different since last
night. David! Such a child, and so silly.

She turned away from the window. She didn’t want to look at the blue
lantern hanging in the gray, gray garden. Her eyes felt wet. She went
over towards the bed.

“Take your nice glass of milk, darling,” she repeated in the same,
strange tone.




                           TRANSCRIBER NOTES

Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple
spellings occur, majority use has been employed.

Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors
occur.

A cover which is placed in the public domain was created for this ebook.

           [The end of _Paper Lanterns_ by Beatrice Redpath]