tea, the girls brought out their mandolins 'and guitars and for the
next hour and more we sat about and sang all the college songs
we knew. There was harmony, even in nature. The pale moon
beams seemed to sift through the trees and dance in perfect time
to the vibrant strings. The little waves rolled up on the shining
sand with a soft, regular, lapping sound. The trees, stirred by
the warm evening breeze, swayed rhythmically. And in the little
company gathered in the shadow of the stately pines, there was per
fect harmony of spirit. A long deep silence fell after thesongs had
ceased. Then, as by some tacit understanding, the group separ
•ated. When, finally, I glanced up, Dorothy and I were alone.
She sat ,swinging idly, keeping up an endless accompaniment .on
the guitar. Her eyes were fixed upon some indefinite object in the
distance, and as I gazed I thought I could detect a certain wistful
ness stealing into them, as of a wish but half fulfilled. Quietly. I
sat there, watching her, afraid to move or speak, lest I should
break the spell. But, as though feeling my ardent glance by
some strange telepathy, she turned toward me. The guitar fell to
.her side, the last notes lingered in the air a moment, tenderly,
soothingly, and then—Dorothy sighed. In that instant my whole
soul went out to her as it had never done before. There was some
:thing so touching, so pathetic, in the posture of the frail figure
that it was impossible for me not to love her. I reached out to
stop the swaying hammock. My hand fell upon hers and involun
tarily clasped over it. For a moment she did not draw it away.
,Then suddenly she rose and moved toward the dark belt of shad
ow beneath the pines, with an almost imperceptible gesture of in
vitation to follow. I was by her side in a second, and thus we
walked in silence, the soft carpet of pine needles deadening the
sound of our footsteps. Of a sudden we came to a stop. There,
au open glade not far ahead, where the shimmering moonbeams
fell in unobstructed radiance, appeared two figures. Otte was Tom
.Edrington and the other, one of Dorothy's camp-mates. They
were walking slowly, and the expression of their faces, turned
,each toward the other, told, more plainly than words, what had
been their conversation. I turned to Dorothy. She nodded her
'head knowingly and sighed again. That sigh took away the last
vestige of restraint from my lips, I was mad with love for her,
and though I tried to speak calmly, my voice trembled.
They are very happy," whispered Dorothy.
HJR BROTHnR'S SISTJR