The Yale expositor., 1920-04-08

| realized That Bert, with all her snow
of cyniciSm and masculinity, was
really a very womanly young woman,
with just the training and the insight
into life that would make her almost
irresistible should she enter the mat
rimonial market. And Bert and Dave
were already good friends; very good
friends indeed, as Irene suspected
from fragments of conversation which
either OF them dropped from time to
time. Although she never doubted
the singleness of Dawes devotion, she
sometimes suspected that in Bert Nor
risons presence he felt a more frank
cOmradeship than in hers. And il was
preposterOus that he should not know
that Bert might be won for the win
ming. And meantime :.
Another winter wore away; another
spring came rushing from the noun
tain passes; another summer was
upon them, and still Irene Hardy had
not surrendered. A thousand times
she told herself ii was impossible, with
her mother to think of-and always
she ended in indignation over her
treatment of Dave. 1t was outrageous
to keep him waiting and some
where back of her self-indignation fit
ted the form-the now seductive form
CT Bert Morrison.
Irene Hardy chose TO be frank with
herself aver the situation. She had
not doubted the sincerity of her at
IN &C. hut hnH
she experienced such a doubt, the en-
try of Bert Morrison into the drama
would have forever removed ii. In
fairness she admitted that things
could not continue as they were. If she
continued to trifle with Dave Elden-
Yes, trihe. She would be frank.
She would not spare herself. She had
been trifling with him. &. She would
lay her false pride aside. In the purity
of her womanhood, which he could not
misunderstood, she would divest her
self of all convention and tell him
frankly that-that-
She was not sure what she would
tell or how she would tell it. She was
sure only that she would make him
know. At the very next opportunity.
It came on q fine summers evening
In late July, while Dave and Irene
drifted in his car over the rich ripen-
Ing prairies.
Everywhere were fields of dark
green wheat, already beginning to
glimmer with the gold Of harvest; ev-
erywhere were herds of sleek cattle
signing and blowing contentedly in
the cool evening air. Away to the west
lay the mountains, blue and soft as a
pillow of velvet for the head OF the
dying day; overhead, inverted islands
of brass and copper foated lazily in
an inverted sea of azure and opal; up
from the southwest came the breath
Of the far Pacific, mild and soft and
gentle.
1--WE started at the wrong end in our
nation building" Dave was saying.
ave started to build cities, leaving
the country to take care of itself. We
are finding out how wrong we were.
Depend upon it, where there is pros
porous country the cities will take
care of themselves. We have been
putting the cart before the horse"
But Irene's eyes were on the sunset;
on the slowly fading colors of the
cloudlands overhead. Something of
that color played across her fine face,
mellowing, softening, drawing as it
seemed, the very soul to cheeks and
lips and eyes. Dave paused in his
speech to regard her, and her beauty
rushed upon him, engulfed him, over
whelmed him in such poignancy of
tenderness that 1t seemed for a mo-
ment all his resolves must be swept
away and he must storm the citadel
that would not surrender to siege. ;.
Only action could hold him resolute I;
he pressed down the accelerator until
the steel lungs of his motor were
drinking power to their utmost capac-
ity and the car roared furiously down
the stretches OF the country road.
1t was dusk when he had burnt out
his violence, and, chastened and
spent, he turned the machine to hum
back gently to the forgotten city.
Irene, by some fine telepathy, had fol-
lowed vaguely the course Of his emo
lions; had followed them In delicious
excitement and fear and hope. She
sensed in some subtle feminine way
the impulse that had sent him roaring
into the distances; she watched his
powerful hand on the wheel; his clear,
steady eye; the minute accuracy with
which he controlled his flying motor;
and she prayed-and did not know
what or why she prayed. But a color
not all Of the dying sunlight lit her
cheek as she guessed-she feared
she hoped-that she had prayed that
he might forget his fine resolves
that his heart might at last outrule
his head.
In the deepening darkness her I'm
gers found his arm. The motion Of the
car masked the violence of her trem-
bling. but for a time the pounding Of
her heart would not allow her speech.
'Dave," she said, at length, "I want