Evening star., 1925-12-13
JOAN N A
"The Gracious Gift of God"
By II. L. GATES
By II. L. GATES

| been a calendar of notable occasions
| for him. The Prince of Monaco. in-
terested always in topics and proposals
that are of human merit, had hon
| ored him with a command audience
and had presented him to that distin-
guished group of scholars and scien.
fists. and worthy men of other pro
fessions. who gather around him from
many parts of the world. 1t is their
tribute to the prince who is dead. the
father of the present ruler OF the little
princfpallty. These SaVantS greeted
the young American With enthusiasm.
They complimented him upon the dar-
ing of his projected monument to the
femininity of the Inspiration for deeds
of valor that soldiers perform on the
battlefield. They were interested in
the spectacular rise of the young
student. He was asked to deliver an
address, and did with triumph to HIM
self.
Just this day. Joanna knew, one OF
these commands into the coveted cir
Gle Of men whose names were great.
had been cancelled: not abruptly, or
Extensively. but Cancelled, nevertheless.
II could only be interpreted as re-
minder that even a great purpose and
a high ambition could not withstand
a too fragrant violation of certain
standards. John had become too much
of a frequenter of the roulet rooms.
And there was too great an interest
generally in pointing him out as the
new devotee OF the beautiful 4Nonne
Coutant, and one who would be apt
to sacrifice deeply at the affairs of her
sorceries. The distinguished young
visitor from America had become one
of the bevy of moths, even If a bril-
liant one. and those who distribute
honors are sometimes conservative.
The girl who walked through the
Annette grounds with him would have
liked to comfort him, but he would
give her no opportunity. While they
stood on the Trianon steps and
watched the distribution of huge piles
of blossoms. roses. rhododendrons and
mimosa, already being brought from
their MonegasQue gardens, Joanna re-
marked:
You haven't complimented me upon
all of this. Doesn't it remind you.
somehow. Of the evenings we spent
planning the time when we would be
able to build, together. a house that
would have cost hardly more than my
pavilion over there?'
1t was not wistfully said. nor in
reminiscent tone. She was standing
apart from him, and spoke as if voic
ing a casual thought. y frown came
into his forehead.
Those are not good memories to
have" he said. This sort Of thing
gives them a sting.
She looked at him in open wonder
ment. If this wonderment was Il
mask she concealed it skillfully.
NO memory has sting. John.
she returned. That is, if they are the
kind Of memories that are worth while
trea suring. The more we miss the
things we once bad, the more gracious
is the recollection OF them. I've put i
little bit of that house we used to plan
into every one of these things I've
built here. Funny, isn't it,
The house, if | remember was to
last a lifetime. This is to be the humur
of Il night. I can't understand what
part of one could be built into the
other.
Love. John, Into the other you put
what was your love--your idea OF it.
Into these things here I've put that
love Of yours. my dear-taken il from
the home you would have built. and
put it into this. It was YOU. you know.
who said, Just now. that the other
was for "a lifetime, and that this will
be desolate and crumbled in the morn
ing. At least. ] expect nothing more
Of this
lie was silent. She left him for q
moment to give al order to the Annette
gardener who supervised the sorting
Of the blossoms which We're to shed
their perfumes for a night and then