The Washington herald., 1922-07-01
Continued from Yesterday.

SN"ANNece gbOUs II Ao1tcfeob.
Long and with jaw ajar. DircK
Moylan stood there on the dim
stairway. gaping after her. To the
best of his belief. his brain was a
confused blank. AS a matter OF
fact, IL was working overtime. Be-
meath the numb blankness Of sur
face emotions 1t was setting Dirck's
mental house in order.
When Moylan descended the stair
way with lifeless tread ten minutes
later he was annoyedly aware Of
a crick in his back from sitting so
long in a cramped position in the
Jolting hay wagon. Also the mus.
Gle strain from the mountain climb
was once more making itself keenly
felt in his legs.
He slouched into the library with
the step OF an old man. A fire twin
killed. on the hearth, for the late
evening had turned cool. At one
side of the fireplace Mazda Layne
was sitting. On the opposite side
of the hearth a soft, deep chair
stood inviting him.
But Dirck did not heed the in
vitation- The sight of Mazda. sit
ting there in all her serenely beau
tiful early maturity and poise, went
straight to the mans bruised van
ity. She was looking up at him
with that same understanding and
comradely smile he had so long
learned to look for. And far back
in her gentle eyes lurked just now
a world OF motherly sympathy and
a yearning to comfort 1t was too
much for Dirck. His hastily re-
hearsed platitudes about the house
party's failure went by the board
"Oh. Maida!" he blurted, hurrying
mp to her with both hands out
stretched as IL for consolation.
Isn't 1t all rotten? Isn't it chastity?
Did ever a man make such a fool
of himself? Was there ever such
another wild ass of the desert? /
might better have bribed a bunch of
newsbOys to let me shoot marbles
with them If really wanted to con-
sole myself into thinking was
young again! Young? I've got
Methuselah backed across the board.
/ haven't been old long enough to
get used to II. But somehow the
only part of tonight's idiocy that
makes me sore all through is the
fool figure l must be cutting in your
eyes. An old cuss like me trying
to
Hush" she cut short his child
ish outburst of penitence. Hush.
Dirck. You mustn't talk so. 1t
isn't true. Not a word of ii Is true.
Now. listen to me-
His hands had involuntarily found
hers. This time she did not draw
away, but held them in her cool.
gentle, firm clasp. Dirck. through
all his self-contempt, realized with
a queer little shock that he loved
this dear handclasp. of hers. even
as he loved her. As the shock
passed he seemed to have known 1t
always. He clung to the tenderly
strong hands and gave heed to the
soft voice that was soothing him
so marvelously.
You shsn't call yourself old.
Dirck"' MAZDA was saying. For
you're not. You were never more
of a boy than you are at this min
ute. IL don't know II I can ex-
press what 1 mean. But. isn't
isn't it a bit like this: II you should
take a gay, high-spirited boy of 10
and load him down with a 100-
pound suit of armor. he'd still be
a boy. wouldn't he? He'd still be
fond of play. But he wouldn't be
able to play like other boys be-
cause the weight of the armor
would hold him back. And the
sight of the armor would make
the other children afraid to play
with him. lit might even make
the crueler children laugh. just a
little, TO watch his efforts at play
ing But he'd still ne as young
and fun-loving as ever"
But
'Dirck." she went on. you're
young, The youngest man I know
You'll always be young. But years
of work and of living have girded
a heavy armor on you. That armor
saves you from being crushed by
the hammerblows of the world But
IL makes you feel unwieldy and
strange when you try to play with
children who haven't yet put on
their armor. To the rest Of US
the other armor-wearers-you are
the dearest and most delightful
playmate imaginable. We're still
young, Dirck, you and 1. And by