Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1911-01-03

Even = wild goose chase she coun-
tered.
when was boy in Virginia." he
said with a humorous eye II used to
chase wild geese, and bag 'em. too"
The bishop sauntered away, leaving q
frown on Barbara's brow. She had had
a swift mental vision OF a COOL dark
bearded face and assured bearing that the
past year had made familiar. 1t was a
owner was rich. his standing was un-
questioned. The fact that he was ten
years her senior had but made his at
tentioDs the more f1attering. He had had
no inherited fortune and had boen no
idler; for this she admired him. II she
had not thrilled to his declaration, so far
as liking went. she liked him The week
she left New York he had intended a
yachting trip to the Mediterranean. When
he told her. coolly enough. that,he should
ask her again in Japan, she had treated It
as a jest, though knowing him quite capa-
BILE of meaning It,
A passenger leaning near her was
whistling sally in Our Alley under his
breath and Japanese steward was emp
tying over-the side a vase of wilted how-
ers. breath OF rose scent came to her,
mixed with a faint smell of tobacco. and
these and the whistled air awoke sud
den "Reminiscences. Her gaze went past
the clustered shipping, beyond the gray
line of buildings and the masses OF foii-
age, and swami into a tremulous June
evening seven years past.
She saw wide campus of green sward
studded with stately elms festooned with
electric ligths that glowed In the falling
twilight. Scattered about were groups
of benches each with its freight Of
dainty rocks, and on one OF them she
saw herself sitting, q shy girl Of Is. on
her first visit to a great university. Men
went by in sober black gowns and fiat
fmortar-boards, young. clean-shaven,
and boyish, with arms about one anoth-
ler's shoulders. From one OF the ball
faced the green came the mellow tinkle
OF a mandolin and the sound of clear
tenor:
)"Of all the girls that are so smart,
There's none like pretty Sally.
She Is the darling OF my heart"
The groups about her had fallen silent
-only one voice had said: That's
Duke Daunt." Then the melody sud-
denly broke queerly ana stopped and
the man who had spoken got up quickly
and said: I'm going In. It's time to
dress anyway" And somehow his voice
had seemed to break queerfy, too.
Duke Daunt! The scene shifted into
the next day. when she mad met him for
handful of denrious moments. For
how long afterward had he remained
her childish idol Time had overlaid
the memory, but 1t started bright now
at the sound OF that wnistled tune.
Her uncles voice recalled her. He
was handing her his binoculars. She
IL 49,
and glued her eyes to the glass.
A sigh OF ecstacy came from her lips,
for 1t brought the land almost at arms
'length-the stone hatoba crowded with
brown Japanese faces, prfcked out here
and there by the white Panama hat or
pith-helmet of the foreigner: at one
side bouquet of gay muslin dresses
and beribboned parasols thanked by a
phalanx of waiting rick sha,-the little
fotilla OF crimson sails at the yacht
anchorage-the stately, columned front
of the club on the Bund with its cool
terrace OF round tables-the kimono' d
figures squatting under the grotesquely
bent pines along the waterfront. where
a motor car flashed like a brilliant mall
cd beetle-farther away tiny shop fnonts
hung with waving figured blue and be-
lyond them a gray blllowing OF tiled
roofs, and long. bright, acknowledgement
streets sauntering toward a mass Of
glowing green from which cherry blooms
scared like pink balloons.
Nearer. nearer yet, the ship drew on.
till there came to meet 1t two curved
arms or breakwater q miniature light
house at each side.
Barbara lowered the glass from her
eyes. The slow swinging OF the vessel
to the anchor had brought a dazzling
bulk between her gaze and the shore,
perilously near. She saw IL now In its
proper perspective-a trim steam yacht,
painted white, with a rakish air of speed
and tautness. the sun gIinting from Its
polished brass fittings.
Barbara was feeling a strange sensa-
tion of familiarity. Puzzled, she with
drew her gate. then looked once more.
Suddenly she dropped the glass with a
startled exclamation. What are you
going to do with that man ?"-her uncle $
query seemed to echo satiricaIly about
her. For the white yacht was Austen
Wares, and ~here, on her cleaning bows,
in polished golden letters, was the name
BARBARA