CHAPTER IX—Continued The babies, arriving presently in a rollicking state of excitement over the advent of Auntie Jane, showed themselves delightful and adoring. “Junior,” said Jane, ‘‘are you glad I'm here?” “Did you bring me anything?” “Something—wonderful—"" “What?” She opened her bag, and produced Towne's box of sweets. ‘May I give him a chocolate, Judy?” “One little one, and just a taste for baby. Jane, where did you get that gorgeous box?" “Frederick Towne." “Really? My dear, your letters have been tremendously interesting. Haven't they, Bob?" Her husband nodded. He was sit- ting by the bedside holding her hand. ‘““Towne’'s a pretty big man.” The nurse came in then, and Jane went with Bob and the babies to the dining-room. After dinner, Junior went to sleep in Jane's arms, having been regaled on a rapturous diet of ‘The Three Bears’ and ‘“The Little Red Hen.” “They're such beauties, Judy,” said Jane, as she went back to her sister. ‘‘But they don't look like any of the Barnes.” ‘No, they're like Bob, with their white skins and fair hair. I wanted one of them to have our coloring. Do you know how particularly lovely you are getting to be, Janey?” “Judy, I'm not.” “Yes, you are. thought it. And so Mr. Towne wants to marry you?” “How do you know?" “It is in your eyes, dear, and in the cock of your head. You and Baldy always look that way when something thrilling happens to you. You can't fool me.” “Well, I'm not in love with him. So that's that, Judy.” “But—it's a great opportunity, isn’t it, Jane?” “I suppose it is,’ can't quite see it.” “Why not?” “Well, he's too old for one thing.” “Only forty—? Rich men don't grow old. And he could give you everything—everything, Janey.” Ju- dy's voice rose a little. ““Jane, you don't know what it means to want things for those you love and not be able to have them. Bob did very well until the slump in business. But since the babies came—] have worked until—well, until it seemed as if I couldn’t stand it. Bob's such a darling. I wouldn't change any- thing. I'd marry him over again tomorrow. But I do know this, that Frederick Towne could make life lovely for you, and perhaps you won't get another chance to marry a man like that.” And none of us slowly, “but 1 Life for Evans Follette after Jane went away became a sort of game in which he played, as he told him- self grimly, a Jekyll and Hyde part. Two men warred constantly with- in him. There was that scarecrow self which nursed mysterious fears, a gaunt gray-haired self, The Man Who Had Come Back From the War. And there was that other, shadowy, elusive, The Boy Who Once Had Been. And it was the Boy who took on gradually shape and sub- stance fighting for place with the dark giant who held desperately to his own. Yet the Boy had weapons, faith and hope. The little diary became in a sense a sacred book. Within its pages was imprisoned something that beat with frantic wings to be free. Evans, shrinking from the program which he compelled him- self to follow, was faced with things like this. “Gee, X wish the days were longer. I'd like to dance through forty - aight hours at a stretch. Jane is getting to be some little dancer. 1 taught her the new steps tonight. She's as graceful as a willow wand.” Well, a man with a limp couldn't dance. Or =aould he? A Thomas Jefferson autograph went therefore to pay for twenty dancing lessons. Would the great Democrat turn in his grave? Yet what were ink scratches made by a dead hand as against all the mean- ings of love and life? Evars bought a phonograph, and new records. He practised at all hours, to the great edification of old Mary, who washed dishes and scrubbed floors in syncopated ecsta- sies, He took Baldy and Edith to tea at the big hotels, and danced with Edith, He apologized, but kept at it. “Fm out of practice.” Edith was sympathetic and inter. estod. She invited the two boys to her home, where there was a music room with a magical floor. Some- times the three of them were alone, amd sometimes Towne came in and danced too, and Adelaide Laramore and Eloise Harper, Towne danced extremely well, In spite of his avoirdupois he was light 64 his feet. He exercised constant. ly. He felt that if he lost his waist line all would be over. He could not, however, always control his ap- petite. Hence the sugar in his tea, and other indulgences. Baldy wrote to Jane of their after- noon frivols. “You should see us! Eloise Harp- er dancing with Evans, and old Towne and his Adelaide! And Edith and I! We're a pretty pair, if 1 do say it. We miss you, and always wish you were with us. Sometimes it seems almost heartless to do things that you can’t share. But it's doing a lot for Evans. Queer thing, the poor old chap goes at it as if his life depended upon it. “We are invited to dine with the Townes on Christmas Eve. Some class, what? By we, I mean myself and the Follettes. Edith and Mrs. Follette see a lot of each other, and Mrs. Follette is tickled pink! You know how she loves that sort thing—Society with a big S. “There will be just our crowd and Mrs. Laramore for dinner, and aft- er that a big costume ball. “I shall go as a page in red. And Evans will be a monk and sing Christmas carols. Edith Towne is crazy about his voice. He sat down She was all in silvery green. at the piano one day in the music room, and she heard him. Jane, his voice is wonderful—it always was, you know, but we haven't heard it lately. Poor old chap—he seems to be picking up. Edith says it makes her want to cry to see him, but she’s helping all she can. “Oh, she's a dear and a darling, Janey. And I don't know what I am going to do about it. I have nothing to offer her. But at least I can worship . . . I shan't look beyond that . . . “Love to Judy and Bob, and the kiddies. And a kiss or two for my own Janey." Jane, having read the letter, laid it down with a sense of utter for- lornness. Evans and Eloise Harp- er! Towne and his Adelaide! A Christmas costume balll Evans singing for Edith Towne! Evans’ own letters told her little, They were dear letters, giving her news of Sherwood, full of kindness and sympathy, full indeed of a cer- tain spiritual strength-—that helped her in the heavy days. But he had sketched very lightly fis own activi- ties.—He had perhaps hesitated to let her know that he could be hap- py without her, But Evans was not happy. He did the things he had mapped out for himself, but he could not do them light-heartedly as the Boy had done. For how could he be light- hearted with Jane away? He had moments of loneliness so intense that they almost submerged him. Evans frequently played a whim- gical game with the old scarecrow. He went often and leaned over the fence that shut in the frozen field. He hunted up new clothes and hung them on the shaking figure--an over- coat and a soft hat, It seemed a charitable thing to clothe him with warmth. In due time someone stole the overcoat, and Evans found the poor thing stripped. It gave him a sense of shock to find two crossed sticks where once had been the sem- blance of a man. But he tried again, This time with an old bathrobe and a disreputable cap. “It will keep you warm until spring, old chap" The scarecrow and his sartorial changes became a matter of much discussion among the Negroes. Since Evans’ visits were nocturnal, the whole thing had an effect of mys- tery until the bathrobe proclaimed its owner. ‘‘Mist’ Evans done woh’ dat e'vy day,” old Mary told Mrs. Follette. *““Whuffor he dress up dat ol’ sca’crow in de flel'?"” “What scarecrow?” Old Mary explained, and that night Mrs. Follette said to her son, “The darkies are getting supersti- tions. Did you really do it?" His somber eyes were lighted for a moment. “It's just a whim of mine, Mumsie. I had a sort of fel- low feeling—"' “How queer!” “Not as queer as you might think.” He went back to his book. No one but Jane should know the truth. And so he played the game. Work- ing in his office, dancing with Edith and Baldy, chumming with the boys, dressing up the scarecrow. It seemed sometimes a desperate game—there were hours in which he wrestled with doubts. Could he ever get back? Could he? There were times when it seemed he could not, There were nights when he did not sleep. Hours that he spent on his knees. iw So the December days sped, and it was just a week before Christmas that Evans read the following in his little book. *“Dined with the Prestons. Told father’s ham story. —Great hit. Potomac frozen over. Skated in the moonlight with Flor- ence Preston.—Great to hot chocolate.” Once more the Potomac was fro- zen over. Florence Preston married. But he mustn't let thing pass. The young boy Evans would have tingled with the thought of that frozen river. It was after dinner, and Evans was in his room. He hunted up Baldy. ‘Look here, old chap, there's skating on the river. Can't we take Sandy and Arthur with us and have | " do the trick. no philanthropies on a night like this. Moonlight. I'll take you and the boys and then I'll go a get “I'll call her up now-"' The small boys and riotous over they reached the ice, lame leg threatened to be a hin- drance, the youngsters took him be- tween them, and away they sailed the miraculous world teers of good fellowshi Baldy having brought on her skates, and they birds. She were the plan. When flew all in -with white furs, ore a white sweater The silver of the night t! in shining away warm § ana like was and seemed armor. her that made She found Rerself a slothe them in Baldy sai her pulses beat frighten “You're s life it." “What do I think it?" “Oh, all moonlight nights.” “Well, it can be" “Dear child, it can't. illusions.” “You think you haven't.” It was late when at last they took off their skates and Edith invited them all to go home with her. “We'll have something hot. I'm as hungry as a dozen bears." The boys giggled. said Sandy Stoddard. But Arthur said nothing. His eyes were occu- pied to the exclusion of his tongue. Edith looked to him like some angel straight from heaven. He had never seen anyone so particularly lovely. little i ling poet isn't in the least what you think “So am 1,” CHAPTER X were, as Baldy had told Jane, just gix of them at dinner. Cousin Anna- bel was still in bed, and it was Ade- laide Laramore who made the sixth. Edith had told Mrs. Follette frankly that she wished Adelaide had not been asked. “But she fished for it. She always does. She flatters Uncle Fred and he falls for it." Baldy brought Evans and Mrs. Follette over in his flivver. They found Mrs. Laramore and Frederick already in the drawing room. Edith had not come down. “She is always late,” Frederick complained, “and she never apolo- gizes." Baldy, silken and slim, in his page's scarlet, stood in the hall and watched Edith descend the stairs. She seemed to emerge from the shadows of the upper balcony like a shaft of light. She was all in sil- very green, her close-clinging robe girdled with pearls, her hair banded with mistletoe. For a moment he stood admiring her, then: “You shouldn't have worn it,”’ he said. “The mistletoe? You will tempt all iy " Why not?” men to kiss you. “Men mus His smptation.” but dd ¢ There was some- ni y so utterly en- gaging. He had set her on a pede- stal, and he worship her. When said that she was not worth wy n't . ™ 1.4 ~ v i, worshiping, he told her, "You df tone rt her hea - she y was silent during 18 on one side of unus ner. With Eva her and Baldy on the other she had need to exert herself Jaldy fo any conver- , in spite of { was not austere. rather, like some attrac- ing friar drawn back for the to the worl was always adequate He genial teller of tales—and capped each of Fred. erick's with hi mother was prouc that life one was lax this friendshig 8 her son's increasin social ease—the she wore Visi y call Frederick Joe BN rloamin ‘A Rose lant but unin- oo young to talk but the slight- she felt that unwise tw He had spired. ‘You are t of yesterdays,” bh said, of gallant 1d, perhaps, ad him of he was stil ii disturbed, towards the of dinner, "To re end They all stood up. There was a second’'s silence. Evans drank as if he partook of a sacrament. Then Edith said, “It seems al most heartless to be happy, doesn’t it, when things are so hard for her?” Adelaide interposed irrelevantly, “1 should hate to spend Christmas in Chicago.” There was no response, so she turned to Frederick. “Couldn't Miss Barnes leave her sister for a few days?” ““No,"” he told her, “she couldn't.” She persisted, “I am sure you didn’t want her to miss the ball.” “I did my best to get her here. Talked to her at long distance, but she couldn't see it.” “You are so good-hearted, Ricky.” Frederick could be cruel at mo- ments, and her persistence was irri- tating. ‘‘Oh, look here, Adelaide, it § | want her here myself." (TO BE CONTINUED) Sometimes the uncertainty in the measurements of the distances of the stars disturbs us, writes Isabel M. Lewis in Nature Magazine. One of the most difficult facts for the human mind to grasp is the im- mensity of space and the difficulty that we encounter when we attempt to measure it in ordinary under- standable terrestrial units. It is an easier matter when we deal with our own little family of planets and their satellites. The distance from the earth to the sun, only 93,000,000 miles, furnishes an excellent yardstick. The outer- most planet, Pluto, is only about 30% of these units distant from the sun, and light, with its velocity of 186,000 miles a second, comes from the sun to the earth in about 8% minutes. It reaches the orbit of Pluto about 5% hours after it leaves the sun. But 4% years pass before that beam of light reaches the nearest star, and the distance of that star from the earth is as great as the distance, in general, that other stars are from their nearest neighbors. That is why go few stars have close heavy encounters even though they are in motion, star distances. -the distance that light travels in a year at the rate of about 186,000 the earth. The word is a combination of the first syllables of ‘parallax’ “second,” and expresses the thought that it is the distance of a star with a parallax of one second of arc. Ne star is close enough to the earth to have a parallax that great. Proxi- ma Centauri, a faint star a fraction of a light year closer than the well known star of first magnitude, Alpha Centauri, has a parallax of only 78 hundredths of a second of are, which means that if at the distance of this star, we could view our solar system and see our planet earth—which, of course, we could not possibly do even with the aid of any telescope in existence-then the distance be- tween sun and earth would be only this fraction of one second of arc in angular measure. 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Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers