The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1920-11-21

fCo"ftnssd from Preceding Pasel
science free as air. But a power
infinitely stronger than any molina
tion OF his was urging his footsteps
homeward. One cannot seize free
dom with violence-not sheer. aim
less freedom. The deep underlying
purpose IN life prscinded that.
He turned In Trafalgar square.
not up the Strand toward his hotel.
but down Whitehall toward West
Minister. Crowded omnibuses were
swinging up and down with their
two stories Of congested passen-
gers. Pedestrians were hurrying
homeward after their days work.
What was. he doing among themy
The little that he accomplished for
Grace Thomas was his only excuse
for being here. He was in reality
an idler. He walked gravely past
the Horse Guards and saw the two
Silent watchers In their glittering
panoplies on their jet-black charg-
ers like statues In the haze. with
a pang II came home to him that
he had seen nothing of England,
rothing even OF London. How he
had dreamed of London. of. the de-
light and luxury of II, Of the JOY OF
novelty, new scenes, an older civil
lization, brilliant people, treasures
of art, men and women and won
ders! Respondent dreams! And
this was his reality. Wasted-ah.
that is what Jim Howard had said.
II he dwelt long enough on Wilma
she would yet succeed In wasting
his life. He glanced again at the
statuesque figures on the raven
chargers. $3.50,
"Some day-you fellows-Ill see
you gain-but not like this" What
he Want was that he would look
upon them with more cheerful
heart.
The Houses of Parliament faced
him and Westminster Abbey. He
had not been inside any Of them.
It was useless. He was not In the
mood for sightseeing or curiosity.
The nature of his errand colored
everything. The holiday spirit was
lackiug-the holiday spirit that had
perneated even his daily life be-
fore he had met Wilma had been
taken from him as might have been
a gift from an unworthy recipient
or a chevron from soldier In dis
grace.
Lights began to show in the win
dows Of the Parliament houses. He
walked to the middle Of Westmin-
ster Bridge and stood leaning over
the parapet. The dark current OF
the Thames flowed peacefully be.
meath him, with barge here ana
there drifting slowly. The haze OF
dusk overhung the scene like a
tutelary deity brooding on the face
of the waters. The lights OF West
minister were blinking mysteriously
and a sense of grandeur and power
and beauty overcame him. Thee
world was full of lofty ENTERPRISE
and noble prospects. He was filled
with a longing to rise above his pas.
sions and preoccupations OF the last
few months, of the last few weeks,
to change the entire texture Of his
llI6. IL only lie COuiu NV hio LIZ
over! Then it seemed as though
a voice were saying to him-you
make your own heaven and your
own hell. Your destiny is In your
hands. It struck him that he was
not yet twenty-five, The mood was
passing. He suddenly found him
self longing for warmth and cheer
and friendliness. He turned abb
ruptly and walked back through
the less than half-mile OF street
that rules an empire upon which
the sun never sets, and found moth
ing better than Joe Shelburn walt.
ing for him. They were going to
the Playhouse that night to see the
inimitable Mr.. Charles Hawtrey In
an amusing play.
Joe had got over his sullenness.
With cunning craftiness he had en-
deavored during the three or four
days succeeding their interview to
penetrate into the mystery Of An.
thongs other business In London.
What was 1t that kept him riveted
to one spot, engaging neither In
sightseeing nor excursions? He