Evening star., 1936-04-05

the early-Summer afternoon on the
long way from Seattle to San Fran
cisco, was distinctly beautiful. In her
pleated white skirt, bluejacket's blouse,
and flying silk scarf, she had been
conspicuously the beauty of Saint
Brides; she would be conspicuously
the beauty wherever she went. Just
as Helena's blue and gold and scarlet
coloring did not add up into love-
illness, so Tamara's mysteriously did;
her purple eyes were deeply set. her
wide mouth showed fine big square
teeth when she smiled, and when she
brushed the dark gold of her loosely
waved hair severely from her low
forehead, as she had done in the
dusty, weary heat of the train this
afternoon, she wore an air of fresh
ness and sweetness and WEAKNESS like
that of tired baby.
Its O'clock" Tamara said. "Just
one more hour and the Angelus will
be ringing, and darling old Sister
Xavier saying, 'ze angelo of ze Lort
declarit unto Marie"
The train had left Benicia behind
now, and was running southwest.
Villages were thickening on both sides;
in the shabby late afternoon light
everything looked rather gray and
ugly.
Oakland, and good-bys to Helena
A smart car, liveried chauffeur. a
kissing mother in white linen were
waiting at Sixteenth street for
Helena; Tamara and Pauline, smil-
ing down from the Pullman windows,
could see rather than hear the tumble
of welcome and talk and direction.
Helena, with Tahoe and 'the Hills
borough place" and her coming-out
in society, definitely within her grasp
at last, vanished from their lives;
Tamara and Pauline went on alone.
On the boat there was another
parting, this one almost without words.
Tamara was looking for Lance, and
Pauline was absorbed by an elderly
woman and a handsome little boy Of
10, who carried her off upstairs. There
was no Lance to be found. Tamara
felt somehow a little chilled; her
brother would meet her at the San
Francisco ferry after the 20-min-
ute trip, of course, but it was little
humiliating to have the other girls
so eagerly absorbed, and not to be
met herself at all. After all, she had
not seen her own people for almost
S years.
The boat was large, drafty. and
filled downstairs with ranks of cars.
There were also ranged seats down.
stairs. deep slippery curved seats OF
dark brown wood, with iron handles
dividing them into narrow stalls. The
floor was oiled black and Uttered with
cigarette stubs and odds and ends OF
rubbish and paper. There was a
smell of wet wood, horses, salt wind.
and shoe polish in the big black space;
men lounged in the seats, read news
papers, chewed gum.
After q while she said shyly to the
shoe5ack, Twill you keep your eye
on my bags?" and went upstairs.
Lance might be upstairs.
She saw no one she knew, but going
forward she had a fine view Of the
low roof of the gray ferry building,
and the clock tower, and the radiating
streets of the hilliest city raising be-
hind them. The sun was smothered
and smoldering red behind blankets
of fog now, and the air was COOL Gulls
circled the boat; other boats came
and went with toots and whistles; the
gray waters Of the bay were moving
in briskly from the Gate, and when
the Piedmont finally made her pier,
waves churned busily among the rock
ing piles and washed with noisy slaps
against her hull.
The lean boy in the slouched felt
hat was Lance. Tamara knew him
at once, surrounded her baggage and
herself to him, and gave him a kiss.
They made their way through the
surging crowds at the ferry to taxi.
and Lance gave the street number:
1.-TWO two two Turk" She had been