Evening star., 1924-09-07

| Norway he sent her Il little ship.
| upon which he had painted Polly"
Winter in Russia, and the subse,
quent hardships thrilled him as no
luxurious passage could have done.
And in the Spring he stood in the
Temple of the Wingless Victory, high
above the plains of Attica, all the
romance of all the centuries crowd
ing about him.
| Travelled fast at his heels. 1t was SO
real that she came back with a start
to her aunt's dingy room. Andy had
thought that he wanted to travel
more than she wanted to, but he had
only talked about it more.
She consoled herself by thinking: ITO
want anything this much and to get it
would perhaps unbalance a person. SO
I'm lucky. And anyway, he'll be home
| in the Fall"
TN October the companys expedition
L came back Andy was not with
them. He wrote and explained this to
| Jill:
I've figured it out that a mans life
! is his own. Why give all this up tc
come home and spend my days at Il
| drafting table? After the past glorious
year / can't imagine buckling down to
it again.
I've fallen in with some press cor
respondents who are touring out -of-the-
! beaten-patn places. They want me to
go along with them. It's a chance that
doesn't come to one person in ten thou
SAND. (Andy's luck again, I'm going
as sort of steno- secretary much
job, but fine companionship and expe-
rience, and I'll make enough to cover
expenses That's all ! care about it.
know "a huI ha
derlust, Jill. and it grows on d fellow
The end of the world recedes as you
approach it. My one regret is | won't
see you for many months. I'm in a
little shack: rough handmade table
and cot; cracker box. Nothing like a
woman wants things, and yet l keep
seeing you here with me. And you
fit: There's the remarkable thing. If
l could put you in the canvas chair
and pull the cracker box near
wouldn't We talk, little skipper? To-
morrow we'd strike our tents and go
up into Egypt. All, we'll, we can't
everything
| After she had read it. Jill sat so still
| that a mouse came out on the hearth
and ran to and fro unafraid. \ little
| shadow of a fear had crept around her
! heart-the fear that Andy was going
to waste his fine, young life. Already
he had given up his engineering. The
other things-the building, growing,
worth while things of life-would lose
their meaning to him. And from a
| happy hearted rover, Andy would
grow at last into a wanderer, going
/ from country to country. seeking what
no land could give him.
| She shook herself sharply. Why
not be honest and admit it? She
wanted Andy. All the world wac
| changed without him, all beauty dim
med-every pleasure cut in half be-
cause he was not hefe to share it.
| She shut her eyes and saw the little
/ shack in Africa and the canvas chair
and the cracker boX-and Andy. Out
| side, the strange noises of the jungle;
! inside. the smoky odor of the lamp
mixed with the unforgettable smell of
! Andy's Eriar pipe. And tomorrow
| we'd strike our tents and go up into
Egypt" All, if she could!
| And then the old uncle died and left
| Jill ten thousand dollars.
| :: = = x
| A NDY, when his chance came. went
! ~ wild. but Jill went wilder. You
remember that she had had the lone
| illness without him. She was never
| to have a clear recollection of that
day. Her aunt and the four children
| foated past her like a big plump
| cloud and four smaller plump clouds.
| But the next morning she went up
to the city and brought her $4,000
home in her hand
She had a little trouble in the bank
| about it. The teller had called the
| cashier, and the cashier in turn re-
! sorted to the vice president. But
| the tactfuI CONTINGENCIES of these
| three gentlemen was as nothing COM
| ared with the urge of a lifetime.
| Jill wanted her $4,000. She knew
| exactly what she was going to do
| with it.
For three days she carried it around
in her hand, just to make sure. While
| her body went through the neces-
| sary preliminaries, Jill was already
| on the high seas. She planned her
clothes and wrote to an agency
where she had a personal friend
| about suitable companion. She
burnt all her bridges and cut all her
cables. There was to be nothing tied
| to her but one small steamer trunk,
| and the whole wide world before
| her
I'm coming, Andy" she called
| across the great space, I'm coming"
! Where would they meet? They
must make it Egypt. Everybody was
| going there now. What would she
wear for that first meeting? Some
| thing white; Andy would be in white
with a boat-shaped hat.
"Good-day, Mr.. Sneik. will you di-
| rect us to the tomb of King Tut?'
| Across the wall went camels, cara
vans, weird professions; the buffet
| was a pyramid. her uncle's picture
| the inscrutable sphinx; the worn rug
| the River Nile. Hot sands stung her
| cheeks.
| Happy. skipper" asked Andy,
| STOPPING to look in her face.
| For answer she could only smile
| at him.
| The lamp burned low and smoked
! the chimney. The fire died out. Jill
put her face in her hands and cried
| long, shaking sobs. How had this
happened to her? So many people
never got one single small wish, and
| she, who had asked so little of life
| who had been content with her make
| believe world-had received this!
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