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president OF the Afid-western and
Southern. The ladies are his wife and
a friend of hers. Id like to introduce
YOU" He ran his eyes over my cordu.
roys and leggings in amiable accent
ance Of my rusticity. He had not in
years addressed me so pleasantly.
Stoddard had left me to go to the
other end of the platform to speak to
i some of the students. followed Pick.
ering rather reluctantly to where the
companions of his travels were pacing
to and fro in the crisp morning air.
I AS soon as Pickering had got me
well under way in conversation with
Taylor, he excused himself hurriedly
and went of. as assumed. to be sure
the station agent had received orders
for attaching the private car to the
Chicago express. Taylor proved to be
supercillous person,-I believe they
call him Chilly Billy at the Metropoli-
tan club,-and our efforts to converse
were pathetically unfruitful. The two
ladies stood by. making no conceal
ment Of their impatience. Their eyes
We're upon the girls from st. Agatha's
on the other platform, whom they
could see beyond me. had jumped
the conversation from Indiana farm
values to the recent disorders in Bull
garia, which interested me more. when
Mrs. Taylor. ignoring me. spoke alb.
ruptly to her sister.
That's she-the one in the gray
coat. talking to the clergyman. She
came moment ago in the carriage"
THE one with the umbrella? I
thought you said"
Mrs. Taylor glanced at her sister
warningly. and they both looked at
me. Then they detached themselves
and moved away. There was some one
on the farther platform whom they
wished to see. and Taylor, not under
standing their maneuver-he was real
ly anxious. think. not to be left alone
with me-started down the platform
after them, following. Mrs. Taylor
and her sister walked to the end of
the platform and looked across, a bis
cult toss away, to where Stoddard
stood tallIng to the girl had already
heard described as wearing q gray
coat and carrying an umbrella.
The girl in gray crossed the track
quickly and addressed the two women
cordially. Taylor's back was to her
aNd he was growing eloquent in mild
well-bred way over the dullness of our
statesmen in not seeing the advan-
tages that would accrue to the United
States In fostering our shipping indus
try. His wife, her sister and the girl
IN gray were so near that could hear
plainly what they were saying. They
were referring apparently to the girls
refusal of an invitation to accompany
them to California.
$50 you can't go-it's too bad! We
had hoped that when you really saw
us on the way you would relent," said
Mrs. Taylor.
But there are many reasons; and
above all Sister Theresa needs me-"
1t was the voice of Olivia, a little
lower, little more restrained than
had known it; but undeniably 1t was
she.
"But think of the rose gardens that
are waiting for us out there!" said the
other lady. They were showing her
the difference that elderly women al
ways have for pretty girls.
ALAS. and again alas!" exclaimed
Olivia. please don't make it harder
for me than necessary. But gave my
promise year ago to spend these
holidays in Cincinnati"
She ignored me wholly and after
shaking hands with the ladies returned
to the other platform. I wondered
whether she was overlooking Taylor
on purpose to cut me.
Taylor was still at his lecture on the
needs Of our American merchant ma
rine when Pickering passed hurriedly.
crossed the track and began speaking
earnestly to the girl in gray.
"The American flag should command
the seas. What We need is not more
battleships but more freight car
riers-" Taylor was saying.
But l was watching Olivia Gladys
Armstrong. In long skirt, with her
hair caught up under gray toque that
matched her coat perfectly, she was
not my Olivia of the tam-o'-shanter,
who had pursued the rabbit; nor yet
the unsophisticated school girl, who
had suffered my idiotic babble; nor,
again, the dreamy rapt organist of the
chapel. She was grown woman with
at least 20 summers to her credit, and
there was about her an air of knowing
the world. and of not being at all a
person one would make foolish speech
es to. She spoke to Pickering gravely.
Once she smiled dolefully and shook
her head, and vaguely strove to re-
member where I had seen that look
in her eyes before. Her gold beads,
which had once carried in my pocket,
were clasped tight about the close COL
lar of her dress; and was glad, very
glad, that had ever touched anything
that belonged to her.
Who was Olivia Gladys Armstrong
and what was Arthur Pickering's bust.