Seven Miles to Arden

and ready for her, carrying it out to the back porch. There in the open and the sunshine she ate, according to her own tabulation, three meals-a left-over supper, a breakfast, and the lunch which she

she searched, cl

m with a friendly little greeting. But the search was a barren one, and she returned to the porch as empty-handed and a

rows who were skirmishing for crumbs. "Just as I said, he was fears

en garments proved too irresistible for her sense of humor; she burst into peal after peal of laug

wee souvenir of an O'Connell; and if I'm to reach Arden in

h dull plumage and no beguiling feathers. So she searched again, and came upon a blue-and-white "middy" suit and a dark-blue "Norfolk." The exchange brou

e turned the knob of the Yale lock on the front door and put one foot over the threshold. It was back again in an instant, however; and this time it was no lawful Patsy that flew ba

ay of stilling her conscience. Then she crossed the thre

s telling from what direction she had come or where Arden was most likely to be found. She shook her fist at the sun wrathfully. "I'll be bound you're in

ropped by some passing pigeon. It lay across her palm for a second, and then-the whim taking her-she shot

al feeling of it. Strangely enough, it seemed half a lifetime instead of half a week, and Patsy could not fathom the why of it. But what puzzled her more was the present condition of Billy Burgeman, himself. As far as she was concerned he had suddenly ceased to exist, and she was pursuing a Balmacaan coat and plush hat that were quite tenantless; or-at most-the

dozen times she caught herself listening for the tramp of his feet beside hers, and flushed hotly at the nagging consciousness that pointe

to be real at all, and the other pesters ye with being too real-'tis ti

sy's heart was the determination to see the end of the ro

But Patsy reckoned without chance-or some one else. The sign-boards had all been ripped from their respective places on a central post and lay propp

great tragedian. "Seven miles-seven miles! I'm as near to it and I know as much about it as when I sta

adventure, but since her feet had trod the first stretch of the road to Arden chance had sat somewhere, chuckling at his own comedy-making, while he pulled her hither and yon, like a marionette on a wire. Veri

e she was until some one came by who could put her right, once and for al

moment the machine careened into sight and Patsy flagged it from th

he was beginning when a girl

he name of your blessed Saint Patric

only one who looked at all familiar. Patsy's mind groped out of the pr

h Marjorie Schuyler in Dublin when you were all so jolly kind to us? I'm Janet Pa

"Sure, I remember. But it's a long way from Dublin, and my memory is slower at hearkening bac

ows you. Jean Lewis, Mrs. Dempsy Carter, Dempsy Carter, Gregory Jessup, and Jay Clinton-Miss Patricia O'Connell, of the Ir

ell?" suggested the owner. "

enius of the Irish," she laughed; "they look easy till you hold them up. I'm bou

that I didn't think of it at once. What part are you playing?"

sed quest, and was seeking information in figurative speech? Patsy decided in favor of the former and answered it in kind: "Faith! I'm not sure whe

u like that. We'll kidnap you, as Dempsy suggested, till after lunch; t

d against any divergence from the straight road now; but the man Janet Payne had ca

Marjorie's letters that told about you, and they were great! We were making up our minds to go to Ireland and see if you were real when your company came to America.

repeated Patsy.

s O'Connell. I'll wager there isn't a soul on

rjorie, isn't it?"

ity of Gregory Jessup's emotion

were betrothed!" Pa

ws! Marjorie Schuyler has gone to China, and

interrogative stare came from the carful. Patsy laughed bewitchingly. "For a crowd of rascally k

y inside, and, amid a general burst of

utting out into a diminutive lake. It was an enchanting spot and a delicious lunch, with good company to boot; but, to her annoyance, Patsy found herself c

gest comfortably?" Gregory Jessup had curled up unceremoniously at her feet, balancing

ing about-Bi

ial pitch: "I can't talk Billy with the others; I'm too much cut up over the whole thing to stand hearing them hold an autopsy over Billy's character and motives." He stop

make me feel like Saint Martin's chest

d he hav

d Christi

r lunch Tuesday and no one has seen him since-unless it's Marjorie Schuyler. Couldn't get anything out of the old man when I first went to see him, and now he's too ill to see any one. Marjorie said she really didn't know where he was, and qui

e played the part of the politely interested li

st it on principle, but he happened to say that if he was going in for it at all he'd take cotton. What was in Billy's mind was not the money in it, but the chance to give the South a boost. Well, one of the fellows took it as a straight tip to get rich from the old man's son and put in all he had saved up to be married on; lost it

father have he

oft-hearted and human as a Labrador winter. I've known Billy since we were both little shavers-and, talk about th

lly-what does he

d his father's money from Baffin Bay to Cape Horn. 'I tell you, Greg,' he finished up with, 'I want enough to keep the cramps out of life, that's all; enough to help the next fellow who's down on his luck; enough to give the woman I marry a home and not a residence

bled out of her memory and quieted them. "Then why in the nam

bound to be plucked unless he kept his wits sharp and distrusted every one. It made Billy sick, and yet it had its effect. He's always been mighty shy with girls-reckon his father brought him up on tales of rich chaps and modern Circe

im?" Patsy asked the question of her

ie the first thing; and she's not the understanding, forgiving kind. He hasn't any money; he wouldn't go to his father; and because he's borrowed from me once, he's that idiotic he wouldn't do it a

imself to another sandwich. At last she asked, casually, "Did

thought of her, and I told him

d when Marjorie Schuyler failed him. He would hardly have cared to criticize the

Janet Payne had left her group and

t's the Irish or the suffragettes wi

which

ive it. The women will rule England-that's an e

nd who approves of a lord and master?" Gr

s barely coming in yet. I'd not give a farthing for the man who couldn't

on she must be asking before the others joined them and the conversation be

kidnapped me, when he has it in his mind t

softly: "Supposing Billy Burgeman has fallen among strangers? If they saw

t of sympathy, but you never offer it; you don't dare. We could never get him to own up as a little shaver how neglected and lonely he was and how he hated to stay in that horrible, gloomy Fi

ace which showed that he was wrestling with a treasured memory. When he spoke again h

rain or shine, unless his father took him along with him in the machine. Billy used to say even in those days he liked walking better. Mother died in the winter-snowy time-when Billy was about twelve; and he borrowed a shovel from a corner grocer and

o the others, a ring of appeal in her voice. "Can't we hurry a bit? There's

s?" asked

nheeding, no

ributed her share the while her mind was busy building over ag

and hair, but he's real, for all that. Holy Saint Patrick, but he's a