The Washington times., 1936-11-21

The conductor who gave her her
transfer looked at her queerly, as
if he were wondering what q girl
in q pleated skirt and a middle
blouse and no hat were doing on
her way to the park.
She had an idea that she wanted
to walk out past the aquarium
and the conservatory, beyond tr
Windmills, to the beach whe-
they'd spent their last afternoon
together, the day before the boat
sailed.
It was a long way. She had
forgotten how far it was. Cars
passed. Riders trotted along the
bride path. She seemed to be
the only person who was walking.
It was a glorious day, though.
Warm as summer, but with q
faint, crisp tang in the air, be-
cause it was late November.
An old man in a wheel chair
looked up from his newspaper
and smiled at her as she passed.
"Howdy!" he said, cordially. A
young woman pushing baby
carriage asked if this was the
way to the japanese tea garden,
but Jan didn't know.
She was beginning to wonder If
she even knew the way to the
beach. She didn't remember these
acres and acres Of lawn, nor the
gnarled cypress trees that turned
the path into a cool, shady tun-
mel. Maybe she'd better stop and
rest.
It was hard to find a vacant
bench and in looking for one, she
got off the path and came to a
little lake. The green grass grew
right down to the waters edge.
Tall rushes and water weeds
screened one end of the pond.
Sunlight made shifting patterns
on the still green water.
Why couldn't she have found
this with Lowell? They could have
sat on the grass, and watched the
ducks swimming gravely around in
the clear water. There wouldn't
have been anyone to interrupt
them. He could have really kissed
her. They could have remained
all afternoon, holding hands, talk
ing a little, thinking a lot.
She pulled out the letter, began
to read it again.
There's nothing to write about"
he wrote, though it would be a
pleasant enough trip if you were
here. AS it is, I just go through
the motions and wait for the land:
ing, not that can possibly expect
a letter, for you wouldn't be mail
ing one on this ship!"
She knew the whole thing
by heart but it made her
happy to read it. She hugged her
knees, rocked back and forth,
laughing silently because that was
just what she'd done! Mailed a
letter that would go down with
him on the ship, and reach him as
soon as he reached Guatemala
City!
"I'm still very uncertain about
what I shall be doing. For a time
at least we shall divide our time
between the city and the planta-
tions. I think you would like the
life. The city isn't so very unlike
San Francisco-climate and all,
and we have some charming
friends friends. But I like the
mountains and the coffee planta-
tions and I think you would too. I
could ask Mother to invite you for
the season, but know it would be
useless, your mother would never
permit you to come so far alone"
Jan smiled at that, and wiped a
vagrant tear away. Dear Lowell.
He'd never really understand that
they didn't have money for things
like that.
She tried to think what it would
be like to go south on a boat like
the one Lowell sailed on, to have
a lovely stateroom, all to herself, to
play deck sports, and swim in the
ships swimming pool and come
down to dinner in an evening gown
but not the old white lace-a new
one-very dashingD and sit at the
captains table!
To stand at the rail, as the ship
came into the harbor, and look for
Lowell on the shore, and have the
Sonora rush up to welcome her, and
then come to Lowell's own house
to be introduced to everyone as
Lowell's fiancee
She must have sat there by the
little lake a long while. The ducks
had disappeared. The sun was
gone.
(TO Be COntinued)
Copyright, 1885, by King Features