The Press., 1916-08-17
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Mime. Hermaine's boarding school wore festive appearance that April night.
 Youthful beauty filled the staid re- ception rooms and overfOwed upon halls and verandaS.
 There was a glimpse of the broad bosomed Pacific ocean, where the moon made a silver track that might lead to enchanted islands. Eastward the foothills Ioomed black against the evening sky. From the gardens below came scented reminders of rose gera- nium, carnations, heliotrope and mi gnonette; in the verandas were great tubs of pink Oleanders.
 To Mime. Hermaine's pupils enchant- ment lay here instead of unknown is- lands of the far east.
 Friends and relatives of pupils thronged the rooms, and the young people danced to the entrancing strains of the gypsy orchestra.
 Mime. Hermaine moved Majestically through the rooms, pausing now and then to bestow a smile and word on some favorite pupil or to finger in conversation with guardians and par ents.
 Fraulei9 Goebel, the German teach CT, and Mile. Specht, who taught 8 large French class, were dancing se- dately together. Linda Barton sat in a corner and chatted with an unknown old lady, who afterward turned out to be Anne Ashbe's grandmother.
 "And who is this taA man coming?' asked Mrs. Ashbel curiously. The broad shouldered man surrounded by girls?'
 Linda, looking rose flushed and love- ly in a much darned black net evening frock, glanced carelessly at the group.
 Suddenly all the roses vanished from her cheeks, leaving them white and wan.
 "Who is he?" persisted the old lady cautiously.
 "I think, I believe his name must be Merwin," said Linda in a labored voice.
 "I wonder if it can be Senator Mer- win?' murmured Mrs. Ashbel.
 "T don't know" said Linda, dropping her head to hide her emotion from half dozen pairs of curious eyes.
 Did you see herr? whispered Maud Benning to Dorothy Blake as they ac- companied Richard Merwin to the con- servatory to show him Mime. Her. maine's collection of orchids.
 "You mean Miss Barton?'
 Maud nodded. "She must have recog- nized your guardian, Dolly. l thought she was going to faint, she grew so white.''
 q wonder!' murmured Dorothy. Maud, I'm going to bring her here to meet guardy."
 "It would be cruel perhaps" pro- tested Maud.
 'It will be quite romantic" insisted Dorothy, moving away.
 q thought you-you admired him yourself" objected Maud.
 q do, and he admires me. too," said Dorothy egotistically. "He could not help drawing a contrast between us, and am not bit jealous of poor Miss Barton" She smiled with the cruel candor of youth and fitted away in the shimmering crowd.
 Richard Merwin and the four chat tering girls had seen the orchids and had paused by the fountain, watching the antics of the goldfish in the basin.
 Suddenly Dorothy was in their midst, holding tightly to the hand of slim, black garbed woman whose crown of auburn hair was powdered with the snow of late youth. White as death, she met the surprised gray eyes of the senator.
 The gray of his eyes turned to black, the fine wrinkles and lines vanished from around his eyes and mouth, his face was afire with youth, and there was a look which caused the five girls to fall back in an abashed group near the door.
 Linda! Linda Barton, is it you?'' he asked in a thrilling voice, and his eyes and hers seemed to bridge long years of pain and misunderstanding.
 At last their hands came together, and he held her ringless fingers close to his heart while he talked in low tones. Her answers were breathless whispers.
 "Comev' whispered Dorothy. And the five vanished silently, and knew they were not missed.
 "I-I didn't know love was like that!' gasped Susan Marr.
 The others sighed, for they, too, had had glimpse into the paradise of per- feet love.
 Dolly. they will marry. And what shall you call her," asked Maud, with a droll look at her friend-"the wife of your guardian?"
 And Dorothy, who had seen Linda Barton's transfgured face, softly re- piled, My guardian angel-and his.'