The San Francisco call., 1909-08-29

waved at her with his slim, glittering
stick. How far he had come since
their last encounter to wave at and
command her as If she were verify
his own She left the window, left
the room, ran quickly down the stair.
The house was hushed; no passing
but her own, no butler in the hall, no
kitchen maid on the back stair. Only
grim faces of pictures-ancestors not
her own-glimmered reproachful upon
her as she fed past. Light echoes
called her back along the hall. The
furniture, the muffiing curtains, her
own reflection flying through the mir
rors. held up to her her madness, and
by their mute stability seemed to re-
mind her of the shelter she was leav-
ing-seemed to forbid.
She ran. This was not shelter; it
was prison. He was rescue; he
was light Itself. The only chance
for her was to get near enough to
him. Near him no shadow lived. The
thing was to get near enough. She
rushed direct from shadow into light.
She came out into the sun, into the
garden with its blaze of wintry sum-
mer. its whispering life and the free
air over It The man standing in the
middle of 1t, for all his pot hat and
Gothic stick, was none the less it's
demigod waiting for her, laughing. He
might well laugh that she who had
written that unfinching letter should
come thus flying at his call; but there
was more than laughter, there was
more than mischief in him. The high
tide of his spirits was only the sparkle
Of his excitement. 1t was evident that
he was there with something of mighty
Importance to say.
touched him? Had he come at last to
transcend her idea with some even
greater purpose? She seemed to see
the power, the will for that and the
kindness-she could not call 1t by an
other word--but though She was be-
seeching him with all her silent etti-
tude to tell her instantly What the
great thing was, he kept it back a
moment looking at her ,whimsically,
fnduIEent1y, even tenderly.
.sI have come for you he said.
ooh for mer' she murmured. Surely
he couldn't mean that! He was simply
putting her off with that.
"I mean 1t, mean it." he assured
her. ..This doesn't make it any less
real my getting at you through a gar.
den. Better" he added, land sweet of
YOU to make the duller way impos-
sib1e.'
She took a step back. It had not
been play to her; but he would have 1t
nothing else. He, too, stepped back
and away from her.
Come" he said, and behind him she
saw the lower garden gate that opened
on the grassy pitch of the hill swing
ing idle and open. The sight of him
about to vanish lured her on, and as
he continued to walk backward she
advanced. following:
ooh. where?" she pleaded
with mer Such a guaranty OF
good faith he made It,
she tried to summon her reluctance.
But why?"
We'll talk about it as we go along"
His hand was on the gate. I'VE can't
stop here, you know. She'll be watch
ing US from the window"
Flora glanced behind her. The win
dows were all discreetly draped-most
likely ambush--but that he should ap-
prehend Clara's eyes behind them All,
then, he did know what he was about!
He saw Clara as she did She would
almost have been ready to- trust him
on the strength of that alone Still
she hung back.
But my thingsr' she protested. She
held up her garden hat. And my
gown" She looked down. at her frail
silk f1ounces. Was ever any woman
seen on the street like this.
"Oh. la, la, Ia, he cut her short. 1--WE
can't stop to dress the part. You'll
forget EN-"
She smiled at him suddenly, looked
back at the house, put on her hat-the