The Washington times., 1934-05-31

her rich blue lapis beads.
At the end of the page Gregg
wrote: They're the color Of
your eyes. You belong in China,
Golden Bells, where Marco
Polo'S waiting!"
There were letters also from
Bill's mother, to whom she wrote
often.
Once when they were at the
lake Helena said: BE sure when
you write to Bills mother to tell
her any little thing that will
make her proud"
Now Pippin did not want Bills
face in her thoughts. Her mother
had that same lost, anguished
look.
She crept back to stand at
Helena'S bed, speak to her,
hold her to the living and
laughing world.
Her mothers troubled, un-
easy eyes strayed to the arm
lying so inert on the covers.
Pippin rushed away. She
closed the door of her room
and SAN: down to pray.
Helena was moving off into
the dark, alien world where
the dying dwell and where Bill
had gone-so remote, SO ter
ribly alone, so unapproachable.
At times Chickie talked ex-
citedly. She was not delirious.
She seemed to dream with her
eyes open; to suffer; to be
filled with woe. Often she
murmured Pippin's name.
One night when the girl was
alone with her mother ChiCkie
called sharply and with great
agitation: "Oh, Pippin, please
don't go!"
I'm here, mother. All along
I'm here
Chickie stared at her. She
said, irrational: I'm terribly
afraid. David! David, get her!"
Pippin took it with a wave of
agony. She recalled with dull
wondering ache the warm sweet
disturbance of her senses and
that she had blindly, impetu-
ously wanted to take that hike.
Helena had guessed. Helena
had held her with dark, b.
seeching eyes. She had brought
her back with a summons Pip.
pin heard in every fiber of her
being.
Now in the bleak rebound Of
her emotion Pippin wept. She
stopped and kissed her mothers
lifeless hand.
She did not want to think of
Dale. He phoned. He sent her
books. He had returned to San
Francisco.
Finally there came a letter.
A warm, friendly, generous les
ter. Only at the end did he
speak of himself.
Il love you dearly, Pippin,
but wish l had not spoken
until I was free as I am now.
After all the unhappiness it
was settled and without con-
test, the whole business taking
but an hour. 1 know that all
your thoughts are with your
mother now. I don't want to
trouble you. I'm sending you
this book, Men of Art It is
wonderfully written and may
take your mind a little from
your anxiety. Keep a good
heart, Pippin. And this will
help her more, perhaps. thaa
we can know"
Pippin sat with the
her hands and a storm y. --Jr
in her face. She was renem-
bering with a bitter shame
Dale's glowing eyes. his rich,
stirring voice. and the mouth
she had found so sweet on hers.
But it was not love she had
felt for Dale.
She passed the hall and saw
her father sitting at Helena's
bed. David looked into her
mothers face and said in
tones that seemed to laugh
and seemed to cry: you're
coming along, dearest. Oh yes,
you are" That look, that
voice, that hand he laid on
hers was love.
P1ppin touched the stones of
the hearth. They were holy like
the stones in a church. Sacred
and beautiful was the love that
had built this house and now
waged desperate battle to keep it
intact. Her father sitting quietly
at her mothers bed filled her
with awe. Oh to be loved in this
complete. selfish and beautiful
way. To go down the long years,
with someone strong and brave
swinging along in happiness at
your side. For this, it is we'll
to live!
Love, too. that Jonathan knew.
He sat with Pippin in the eve.
nings. She manicured his nails
because this took both from
their thoughts. One night he
found her weeping.
Jonathan said sternly: you
do not think your mother will
die?"
"Oh today-she didn't talk at
all. She never looked at me-"
But she is needed here. She
will not go. God can not let
such wrong be done"
But Helena sank. She had not
strength to combat the disease.
She should not die. And yet be.
fore their very eyes. she sank.
Copyright. 1884. King Features