The Little Colonel's Chum: Mary Ware

the most of those last few moments of daylight. In the downstairs flats the electric lights were already on. She moved her easel nearer

icture silhouetted against the western window. The girlish figure enveloped in a long loose working apron was all in shadow, but the light, slanting across the graceful

ite her door buzzed up and down unheeded. She did not even notice when it stopped on her floor, and some one walked across the corridor with a heavy tread. But the whirr of her door bell brought her to herself with a start, an

lled the doorway that she stood for an instant in open-mouthed wonder. "Where did you

o make my report at the office. I'm on my way out to Stuart's to spend Christmas with him and Eugenia, but I couldn't resist the tempt

ike time and tide. They wait for no man. This must be finished and out of the house to-night, and I've not more than fifteen minutes of good daylight left. So j

ut you've had changes," he added, looking around the room with keen interest. "This isn't much li

tle Western town, a Mrs. Boyd. That is, she is cheerful now. Then she was like a bird in a cage, pining to death for the freedom she had been accustomed to, and moping on her perch. She came to New York to bring her niece, Lucy, who is all she has to live for. Some art teacher back home told her that Lucy is a genius-has the mak

We were so dead tired of boarding. About that time we picked up Henry, and as Henry has a noble

watching the silhouette against

those three portraits. Oh, she's the real thing, and a constant inspiration to me. And she's brought so much towards the beautifying of our Crusoe castle: all these elegant Persian rugs, and those four "old masters," and the bronzes and the teakwood carvings-you can see for yourself. Lucy wasn't quite satisfied with the room at first. She miss

that you do the cooking

fireless cooker and all the conveniences of our little kitchenette, it's mere play after my Wigwam experiences. We have a w

ul interfere with your pursuit of the beau

e, and work that pays. Of course I'd rather do Madonnas than posters, but since the pot must boil I am glad there are book-covers to be done. And some day-well, I may not always have to stay tied to the earth. My wings are growing, i

"would you mind telephoning down to the station to find out if that Washington train is on time? That's a

r bidding. "Then I certainly have something to live for. Her first impressions of New York wi

me. We are going out to Eugenia's to-morrow afterno

taking out his watch. "She wouldn't tell what it was, but said t

t to Eugenia's for dinner, but I can see you safely to the station on

had scarcely turned around till she was back again, hatted and gloved. The artist in the long apron had given place to a stylis

the rush of the crowds almost took her off her feet. Phil at her

ou under my wing," he said. "You ought no

, but her white hair counts for a lot. She would have gone to the station with me, but she and Lucy are dining out. We girls will be all alone to-night. I wis

could easily let them know if I missed my train, and I co

ing to come back to you and that little chatterbox of a Mary than to go out to my brother's. Eugenia is a dear, but I've never known her except as a bride or a dignified young matron, so of course we have no youthful experiences in common to hark back to together. That is the very back-bon

s. Mamma always speaks of you as 'my other' boy, and as for Mary, she quotes you on all occasions, and thinks you are very near perfection. She

ccasions when her unbounded pleasure was forced to find expression in that way. In the year that Joyce had been away from her she

flew down the steps to throw her arms around Joyce. It was the same, lovable, eager little face that looked up into his, the same impetuous unsp

essed him with the sense of change. It was a certain girlish winsomeness, something elusive, which cannot be d

ed; rugged and energetic and full of resources. But he had not expected this gentleness of manner, this unconscious dignity and a certain poise that reminded him of-he was puzzled to think of what it did remind him. Later, it came to him, as he continued

eized her when she looked up and saw how much older he was in reality than he had been in her recollections. She had no answer ready when he began his accustomed teasing. Instead she clung to Joyce when they left the street

these years of orange-blossoms and summer sun at Christmas, how good it seems to have real old Santa Claus weather! I can almost see the reindeer and smell the striped peppermint and pop-co

hen they reached the flat, Mary still kept near her, "tagging after her," as she would have expressed it in her earlier days,

ept the studio. We had a partition taken out and two rooms thrown together for that. Now the company will have to go in th

g at the various specimen's of Joyce's handicraft pinned about on the walls. One of the first pauses was before a sketch of Lloyd, done from memory, a little w

y to the kitchenette to help Joyce, thinking how lovely it must be to have a handsome

fire in the studio ("a piece of Henry's much enjoyed extravagance," Joyce explained, "and only lighted on gala occasions like this") they were suddenly all grown up and serious again. Joyce talked about her work, and the friends she had made among editors and illustrators, and ambitiou

shadows cast by the flickering firelight talked intimately of

ing and verse, and then Phil said laughingly, "Do you remember what Mary's dearest wish used to be? How we roared the da

reat Baltimore belle who was called that, and it appealed to me as the most desirable thing on earth to be honour

tion?" persisted Phil. "We have all confessed. It isn't fai

ed. "You'll never have the chance to laugh twice, and

vealed to her, but of the voice and the vision she had no doubt. Whatever it was she was sure it would be higher and greater than anything any one she knew aspired to. Yet somehow, sitting there in the friendly shadows, with the firelight sh

head that she had not been able to get rid of,

by the road, and c

ot by the

then, to have one strong true face bending towards hers in the firelight, with a devotion all for her, seemed

by the road, and c

ot by the

cided. She would miss the best that earth hol