Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Next Page
OCR
,3.
9?.‘ 3%‘? -it ‘fa? -1% 1?? Kit 3%‘?
..-.-----s. .......z... . ,
EWELSPEE
F012-YOUNG-PEOPLE
the Dllgrlm Dress. Jocston, new work ano Chicago jU1.v I5, ma
"If she is Jessamine Le Moine," he utmost precision. Ilchad supplied himself
Dmwinw by 5. LM'il4m lsmym.
HEN Torn Graham saw what man-
ner of communication was on the
top of his morning mail, he swiftly
transferred it to his pocket. Then, glanc-
ing covertly at his mother, who was sitting
by a window awaiting his coming to break-
fast, he realized with chagrin that his pre-
caution had been wasted. Mrs. Graham
not onl knew of the epistle's presence,
, but she herself had put it on top of the
pile.
Torn sighed dolefully and audihly; then
gracefully submitting to the inevitable, he
sliced open the impressive envelope, looked
within, exclaimed under his breath, smiled
and then. laughed.
“VVho IS it. Tom?" IVIrs. Graham asked,
‘ her tone indicating that the matter was
. one of overwhelming interest.
Iler tall, bronzed son chuckled. "Little
F,d.Princeton," he replied. "Think of
Eddy getting married! Vllhy, he just es-
caped from the nursery yesterday!"
His mother gasped. “Eddy Princeton!”
she repeated in evident delight. “Why, I
didn't know he had put on long trousers!
VVho is the girl, Torn? IIe must have
heen afraid he'd lose her. She must be
very, very lovely "
“Well, that‘s entirely a matter of opin-
ion, mother," Tom said, as he handed her
the invitation.
"Leona Burbank-she is lovely,” Mrs.
Graham commented when she had mas-
tr-rcd the contents.
"Is she?" Tom asked lightly; and a
twinkle came into his eye as he noted the
immediate tightening of his mother's lips.
Ile was in for it, and was determined to
get all possible fun out of the situation.
’ “It's funny, that I never thought so. though
I've known Leona all her life. To be sure
that's not long, at least not more than
eighteen years, I guess. Still, it's long
enoug .”
“Yes, Tom," his parent agreed grimly;
"eighteen minutes would have been just
seventeen and a half minutes too long, as
far as you are concerned. 1 any woman
could hold your attention for ten consecu-
tive minutes, I'd begin to hope that some
day I should have a daughter to cheer my
lonely old age. Some women are very
fortunate," she continued with sigh.
“Eliza Princeton has six daughters of her
own, and now she'll have another."
Tom's expression changed rapidly from
amusement to acute discomfort, and then
' “Now, mother, don't !" he en-
“I give you my word, I'll bring
you a daughter some day. And when I do
bring her, she'll surpass all Mrs. Prince-
ton's daughters.” '
“Tom Graham, that will never be," Mrs.
Graham said sternly and with conviction.
“You are seeking the impossible, and you'll
be forty before you know it. You are too
hard to please. Your blessings have been
numhcrless, so you think you're justified
in asking more; you are master of one
of the finest estates in Virginia;
more money than you can possibly spend
with both hands; you're a scientist of
such note that your name is in an encyclo-
.%c,1c g'['fi'e Wavenscmff
pedia; you know almost as much about
such useless places as Africa, as Roosevelt
does." She stopped, but Tom took the
matter up where she had left off.
“Let's complete the list," he said, and
in his tone there was an undercurrent of
some emotion that strongly resembled des-
peration. “I'm six feet two, and tip the
scales at one hundred and ninety. I was
such a good full back at Harvard, that
they still talk about me there. I'm so
good at the bat that the Big League tried
three times to sign me up. can swim
like a mcrman, and I could get a. job as
a sailor any day. I'm so tanned from my
manly sports that I look like the yellow
peril. And yet, mother, I'm a snare and
a delusion, because I'm afrai !
"I'm afraid of the women of to-day,
mother, afraid of them, afraid for them.
They're doing such wonderful, unprece-
dented things, mother! They're such won-
derful bcings, and yet I'm afraid that they'll
overlook the small things in their onward
rush. I'd like to find one who is-well,
different in a way that I can't express.
I’d like her to be alive and up-to-date and
interested in the big things, and yet I'd
like to know that she could feel the dis-
tress of the humblest thing that God has
created, whatever that may be.
“I the terse language of the day,
mother, I merely ask that the lady have
a heart, of a peculiar order perhaps, but
just a heart. There comes a time in the
life of every man when he needs a real
heart, and not an automaton, to fall back
upon. I've been singularly fortunate so
far; but my time of need will come." Ile
stopped. for at a sound
said, “she is the college prodigy who,
several months ago, came so near to being
the woman's tennis champion of the world.
Also. she persistently refused to become
Mrs. Charles Columbus, for mysterious
reasons best known to herself. Charlie,
by the way, has joined the aviation corps
in France. Now why did she refuse so
eligible a person as Charlie?"
“Maybe she's seeking a heart, as you
are." his mother suggested dryly.
“Perhaps," her son agreed, with at-
tempted nonchalancc. “Well, the Egyp-
tians believed that the heart and soul are
identical, so why shouldn't we be seeking
hearts? Anyhow, she wasn't seeking sev-
eral million perfcctly good American dol-
lars, because Charlie has all of that. By
the way, mother. did you by any chance
tell Miss Le Moine about my-my pecul-
iarities?"
Again his parent surveyed him.
“Most certainly not," she replied in cold
displeasure. “The subject is so painful
that I always avoid it, as you know. But
why are you so deeply interested in a
strange young woman's reasons for refus-
ing an idle young man. '
“That's exactly what I should like to
know, mother," her son gracefully con-
fessed. Then he abruptly changed a sub-
ject that was getting on dangerous ground.
“I've ecided to amputate that bed of
nasturtiums from the front lawn," he an-
nounced. “They were advertised as the
most marvelous nasturtiums that ever
were known on land or on sea, and sched-
uled to come early and stay
whoever it was who said nasturtiums are
immune from aphides, was suffering from
hallucinations. Those plants are literally
full of them. I'll attend to that right after
breakfast. Where is breakfast? or have
we had it ?"
“Breakfast is awaiting your ringing,"
with newspapers, and in these he carefully
deposited each plant as he uprooted it. As
soon as a paper was full, he rolled up the
ends, and in due time a number of neat,
loosc bundles were Ornamcnting his lawn.
His purpose was to carry these to the
back of the premises where there was
plenty of room, apply a few drops of
kerosene, and have a. nice little bonfire
which would forever put an end to those
dcslructivc creepers.
VVith the aid of a wheelbarrow, he
finally assembled his numerous bundles in
a selected spot and then went to the garage
for the oil can. When he returned, he
found Miss Le Moiue standing beside
what he intended to be a pyre. Iler face
was flushed, and her eyes were dilated by
an excitement, the exact nature of which
was a mystery.
‘'0 Mr. Graham, don't do that!" she ex-
claimed, regardless of the fact that, ac-
cording to convention, she and he were
strangers. “Those nasturtiums-I've looked
at them every day-are literally covered
with ladybircls. They're after those para-
sites, you know. You mustn't burn the
ladybirds, Mr. Graham, for they're such
good bugs. Ladybirds don't harm any-
thing, you know."
Tom Graham bared his head, and then
he set down the oil can.
"Vt-daIz'a," he announced vaguely. Some-
how he felt that he was expected to say
something.
“Yes, Vedalia cardinalix," she agreed
eagerly’. and thereby deprived Tom Gra-
ham temporarily of his last remaining
breath. To hear that grave, entomological
term slip so naturally from her seemed,
he did not know why, the most startling
experience of his far from uncvcntful life.
“Y u know, Mr. Graham," she went on
earnestly, “that there are good bugs and
bad bugs. As far as we know, the aphides
are sheer murderers, and
do nothing but destroy;
strangely sweet and al-
luring, his mother had
turned abruptly from
him to the window.
“What was that?" he
asked.
“Jessamine Le Moine,
the young lady next door.
She is whistling to the
robins," Mrs.
answered.
looks just like my sister
Mary looked at her age.
She's some years past
twenty, I should say."
Tom started. He had
suddenly discovered that
for several minutes he
had been thinking, sub-
it w re,
consciously, as e
of that young lady next
door. Ile wondered why
that should be.
“Your sister Mary
must have been an un-
commonly lovely young
woman, mother!" he
blurted out. “By the
way, how did you find
out that her name is Jes-
samine Le Moine?"
His mother, turning,
surveyed him. “My sis-
ter Mary was uncommonly lovely; ‘un-
commonly’ is exactly the right word," she
replied. “She was so lovely that no cam-
era ever could catch her beauty; and even
after she died, we never regretted having
destroyed all her photographs. As for
knowing our neighbor's name, I called on
her two days after she moved in. You
were away, as you usually are, and I was
lonely. She and her father have taken that
house temporarily, just as we have taken
this one; they are building at Tacoma
Park."
Tom looked as if something had made
him very unhappy.
but the ladybirds-why,
they saved the fruit trees
of California from the
cottony-cushion s c ale!
Don't you remember ?",
Tom Graham remem-
bered perfcctly well, but
he neglected to say so.
He was otherwise and
taking an inventory of
twentieth century
Portia, who. unbelievably
lovely even in the pitiless
morning light, pleaded
so eloquently for the life
of an infinitesimal bug.
Being merely :1. man, he
felt, rather than knew
that from the top of her
shining hair. to the toes
of her buckskin shocs,
she was alamode. She
could handle a car and
a horse with equal celer-
ity; he had seen her do
both on the speedway.
As a tennis player, she
‘“i'vu BEEN walnut; FDR mu i-on rwimrv MINI."I’K.S,' sun sup S’I’Il4Pl.V."
Mrs. Graham said. Iler tone had become
abstracted, listless. for, as usual, Torn had
managed to drop the subject that was
nearest her heart.
kVben Tom went forth to his work of
extermination, he discovered that his ath-
letic young neighbor was on her porch.
When Jessamine Le Moine discovered
Tom's purpose to destroy the plants. she
immediately evinced signs of an interest
that seemed wholly unwarranted by a bed
of nasturtiums which had failed of their
purpose, and degenerated into a mere
food supply for thousands of disgusting
aphides. Tom went about his job with the
was famous from one
end of the continent to
the other. Yet here she
was-well, she was here, and that was
quite enough for Tom.
"I'll tell you how we'll manage it," he
said steadily, though his heart was heat-
ing all out of time. “Not far from here
there is a large vacant lot covered with
nothing but weeds. I'll just wheel the
plants over there, unwrap them and leave
them. The aphides can't harm the weeds,
and the ladybirds, when they finish their
job on the aphides, can ‘Hy away home,‘
as we children used to say."
“Thank you," she said in a choked
voice; and then to Tom's amazed con-
sternation, she abruptly turned and walked