Evening Star Newspaper, March 5, 1922, Page 58

MILLY OF LANGMORE STREET 1LLY BAIRD was born andy “Look here, my dear,” sald Kate, brought up in Monroe-—| “don’t you think you're seeing a m' it which is the home of the of young Mr. Bullen?” Kate hesi- state university — without | tated. She did not wish to hurt-Mil- ever having known a college student. feellngs. Milly thought her parents were the “Why,” Milly cried. “I've only seen most particular people in tire world. | him three times. They probably were the most particu-| Kate Taughed. lar people in Langmors street. They!: “What's so funny?" Milly asked. disapproved of coeducation. high- achqol danees and junior prom house parties. Milly went east to the ex- ceedingly correct school of the Misses Cholmondeley, on the Hudson. Milly spent her summers in the Berkshires with the family, ucquiring a free swing Wwith a driver—the only kind of free swing she had ever been per- mitted. 1t was Mr. and Mrs. Baird's idea that Milly was a greater responsibility. She was their daughter, and even quite ordinary parents feel that way about quite ordinary daughters. But Milly was no more an ordinary daughter than they were ordinary parents. Milly was about to become ‘a tearing beauty. M ‘s mother had no intention of permitting her to be carried off by msome irresponsible young man of little family and | income. She intended that Milly shouldn‘t marry for a long time, but, with characteristic foresight. she had already chosen the man who might marry her. He would be from Bos- ton, preferably (Mrs Eaird had her- self come from Boston): in any case, from ~ Massachusetts — wa impeccable person of solid attainments. No mid- sess the antecedents or the accent or the solidity that Milly’s mother would require. Milly finished ' » Misses Cholmon- deley’s school and came home to the house in Langmore street at nineteen, when she was just ceasing to be pret- ty and becoming beautiful. She had charming manners. some knowledge of French irregular verbs and that incredible ignorance of life as it is lived on the North American conti- nent which it is the special mission of the Misses Cholmondeley to ac- complish. * ok ox ok <HE Bairds surveyed her with pleasure and decided that she might be permitted to attend the small dance that Mrs. Martin was giving on Thursday. ‘She is more of a problem than Kate was,” said Mrs. Baird. “She is so very good looking." said “When did you meet him?" Kate asked. “I met him at Mrs. Martin's dance,” | said Milly. “And this is Sunday morning.” Kate sald, meaningly. “Well?" said Milly. Kate laughed again. “Perhaps,” Milly esaid, “perhaps when you get through laughing you'll tell me what's so funny.” “I'm sorry,” Kate said. “I didn't mean to laugh. But you're so per- fectly innocent and mother is so per- fectly upset that it's funny, that's all” “What's funny?" Milly asked. “Don’t you think it's unusual for & girl to see u man she's just met three days in succession?" Milly flushed. “What—what should 1 have donei” . You shouldn't have encouraged him.”. Kate ‘satd firmly. Milly looked at Kate with wide| eyes. “I didn’t encourage him.” “Didn’t encourage him!" discourage him.” “You must have. do you suppose he would have done Kate sald. “What twlce every day?" Milly did not answer. Kate cume over and put her hand on her head and spoke gently. e “Don’t you see, Milly, dear? You can’t let a man call every day with- out attracting attentfon.” “What am I to do?’ Milly asked. “Tell him he can’t come any more.” ‘Just like that?” It seems awfully rude. And—and —besides, ‘I told him yesterday-that he could come—today.” “You al “Yes." Kate got up and walked back and forth across the room in quite the fashion of Milly’s father. “I suppose 1 ought to tell him you're not at home when he calls™ “Oh, I wish you wouldn't, Kate' Milly eried. “WIIl you tell him he musn’t come for a week™™ Kate cried. 0, Milly sajd simply. “I tried to Mr. Baird anxiously. ‘But she Isn't fn the least flirta- fous.” said. Mrs. Balrd. ‘I should think no he has had four Cholmendeley's.” he is a perfect child * “Yem” Milly sai 11 tell him." “Very weil,” Kate agreed. “I'll ex- plain 4o father and mother that this is tha last thme.” “He's going to bring his car,” Milly said. suppose 1 had better go out That's just the polnt.” said M. [with him for a little and tell him and Baird. “She has never learned to do | come home.” anvthing for herself. For the rest—| Kate looked sh we can guard her.” suppose you “and guide her. So, In company within her father amll e her mother and her sister Kate ‘"fl‘ERms car proved to be a powerful her sister Kate's husband, Peter Ma- (K570 000 M Ciy 0 or wina- ple, Milly went on Thursday to Mrs.| ;0. Eric tucked Milly in and Martin's Tittle dance and had a most | Sot s TS (JOIN hed to leave innocuous evening until half-pastlyg,onore street as tar behind as he 11. whesi Eric Bullen came to claim the could. AMilly clung to her hat and dance he had secured two hours earlier | ¢ oy vored to command the phrases Mr. Bullen was a tall young man. iy, ypich she would tell Eric that this who during his four years at the Uni- | o,y ypeir Jast ride together. But the versity had been rather the life of the | ;0 )10, \wag one she had never met party. e hadn't piayed foot balland |y, eore She wondered what the elder he hadn't taken academic Ronors, but | 313" Coio mondeley would say fn an- he was possibly the mast popular Mani ;. .r o the question. How is a young in his class. lady, going forty miles an hour In a Mr. Baird. ars at the Misses H dle western youth could possibly Du-l if you had been nice to him? Called Mr. Eullen was not ordinarily a if-| 205 800 Bl Mo tell the yvoung | i said Mrs. Baird. !"Bul for heaven's sake, hurry back.” | fident person. But on_the ?rra;lan!man Sl Martin’s dayce he was struck | of Mrs wa dumb by the sight of Milly Baird. He recoverad sufficiently to pursue an Milly was still wondering half hour later when Monroe was far b hind them, and N ednetion and aik Toy tovee dameenf s LU BT swang fnto's And then he retired to a corner to rough dirt track that branched off watch Milly and to wait for the ON€, ypo"yarg road into the woods. It dance she had given him. When the time came Mr. Bullen had so far lost his usual assurance that he scarcely dared put his arm around Milly to dance with her. “Lets sit this ont,” Milly suggest- ed as he hesitated. “It's awfully hot.™ said the infatuated Erlc. The veranda of Mrs. Martin's house looks on a garden, and the garden slopes down to the lake. and on the very shore of the lake is a summer house. Milly and FEric walked "down the garden path to the summer house, sat down and gazed at the path of the moon on the water “It's very lovely.” said Milly. Fric was momentarily incapable of speech. He stirred uneasily, and, stir- ring, his hand touched hers and he held his breath. «fsn't- it!" he said. and in his mad- ness he clasped Milly's hand in his. 1t was what he wished to do, of course, but it was not what he in- tended to do. And having taken her hand; he did not know how to let go of it. but sat there tremulous and abashed. Milly reflected rapidly.on the teach- ings of the Misses Cholmondeley, but she could think of nothing that ap- plied to this particular situation. So she let Eric hold her band, and they sat there until the music ceased. “f have the next dance with Mr. Walters,” Milly said. “It's his job to find you.” said Eric. Milly- cast rapidly back over the wasn't the kind of going that en- courages conversatton. Eric drove on for a mile, and then they came out on a high bluff overlooking the lake. hey were quite alone, with three miles of blue water in front of them and the wood behind them. This, I Milly realized, was her chance. She braced herself to say, “I must tell you. But Eric spoke first. T've got to tell you something.” Eric said. Milly did not look at him; she could not look at him: she did not know why she could not look at him. but she couldn’t. “I love you,” Erle said. Instantly Milly knew why she could not look at him. It was because she knew that he was going to say that. ‘Worse, it was because she wanted him to say that. And. now he had said it, her heart came up in her throat and she could not move or speak or breathe—she could only feel Eric's shoulder against hers. Milly took a breath somehow and turned her head ever so slightly, and then Eric kissed her. It was some- thing that had never happened to her before; something that the Misses Cholmondeley had never told her about, and Milly didn’t know what to say. So she just buried her head on Eric’s shoulder. It wds ten minutes before she re- membered. to ask herself what her mother and father would say, and then she didn't want to think about teachings of the Misses Cholmondeley- | ;o "y gpe pressed the thought out of So it is,” she said. “You see,” sald Eric, "on Monday I ga ‘to work for the Bullen Gear Company of Higginsville, Ind. T hav very little time. May T call tomor- row? “You may.” said Milly. They walked slowly back to the veranda, and more slowly into-the brightly lighted dancing room, and nobody noticed. except Mr. Walters, and he apdlogised abjectly. | * ok k¥ TKE next afternoon Erle called in Langmore street formally. Milly had learned how to receive a formal cal, and she knew precisely hiow to say. good-by when, after twenty min- utes, 3 man arose to go. Eut after ten minutes in the Baird drawing room Eric told Milly fo go put’on her hit, and after twenty minutes they were out on the lake in a canoe. On Saturday there ocgurred one of trose colnciderices that are so com- mon nowadays. Eric- Bullen reached the country ciub at 2 o'clock. Milly wadn’t there. ‘At 2:15 Eric refused a preasing invitation from three of his widest friends to_join them in a four- gome: At the end of the next halt heur- Milly- miraculously appeared— alone. They drove off at 3 o'clock precisely. But after the first four holes they sat down under a friendly maple tree to talk. At @ o'clock, when Kate, who had agreed to call for Milly at the club at ha¥f past 5 found them, they were still talking. On Sunday Kate took Milly aside. Kate was often the means of com- municating the. wishes of Milly's her mind. But after a bit Milly encouraged Erlc to talk about himself—which he did with great frankness—and they drove on, and it was three or four hours later that Milly awoke to the fact that it was half past 7 and she was forty miles from home. ‘Do you know what time it is?" she said to Eric. “Qh,” said Eric. “I forgot. You must be terribly hungry. Iam. And I know a place where we can get real food.” He set off at top speed, and what with hanging on to her hat and not wanting to snyway, Milly had no chance to tell him that she must get home as fast as she could. Eric drew up at a little hotel in the main street of a town—Hebron or Sharon—he could never, he said, re- member which it was. But the pro- prietor remembered Eric. If they were willing to wait they could have fried chicken. “1 love fried chicken,” Milly said * ok ok ok IT was while they were waiting for the Tried chicken that Milly re- membered her promise to Kate. They had been sitting looking at each other without saying & word—in any language than can be overheard—for fully five minutes. Milly smiled at the memory of her talk with Kate. And Eric, thinking (not without rea- son) that she was smiling at him, took her hand in his under cover of the table and looked quickly about the dining reom. “There’s nobody in sight, and I ic dropped to fif-} | think I could Kiss you,” he sald earn- estly. Milly leaned back, increasing the distance between them. “No! she said. Misses Cholmondeley how to meet this o somebody might come in. The had taught her sion. “One does not embrace in a public place,” the elder Mi Cholmondeley had sald. “under any circumstances.” “Besides,” Milly continued, “I have doesn’t approve of you. 1 promised to tell you that you musin't call on me again—at least not for a long Eric laughed “They're quite serious.” Milly j warned. | | “You mean they won't let me see you now that we're cngaged?” “I should =ay.” Milly said. “that our being engaged would make them even less willing.™ ! “That rather Duts it up fo me, | doesr’t it?" Eric frowned thought- fully. “They're so terribly particular.” Milly said. “And they stil] think of me as a child—you know how parents i “Yes.” said Eric. “I see that it's i gping to be difficult.” “It will be quite awful when 1 tell them I'm in love with vou,” Milly; said. | But the fried chicken came just then, and they forgot everything ex- cept that they were hungry und that they were together. ready to start back. Fric produced: a thick rug from the rear compart- ment of the speedster. He wrapped the rug twice around Milly, picked her up in his arms and put her in the car and tucked an end snugly under her feet. “You ought to be warm enough,” he sald judicially. He took her hat and dropped it in the com- partment. “You won't want that,” he explained “Put vour shoulder against mine.” Eric commanded. “We'll have to hur~ ry along and it will be a bit bumpy.” Milly snuggled close. He turned a switch and the low car gathered speed, and they went rushing through the cool June dark. Milly felt the wind lift her hair, loosen it, tangle it. She felt the speedster lureh and . {crfed’and cried. She cried because there was no hope of ever, ever mak- ing them understand that she was really in love. | Her father thought it was amusing | and her mother thought it was awful, and that was what they would con- j tinue to think forever and ever. no A New Story rant of the world, incompetent to de- | clde anything lmportant for herself. | But, granting that all this was true (which Milly did not grant for a o] ment), how was she to acquire com- petence? DId her mother imagine | that if the process of deciding every- | thing for her were continued long | "1’ MILLY DID NOT ! matter what the truth was—no mat- | enough she would learn to do without | | ter what she sald. And she had prom- | aid? | {ised Eric she would elope with him| Eut the fact that her mother dis-| in three months. She couldn't run|approved so heartily troubled Milly. | laway. She knew she couldn't. And|She had been used all her life to ac-| | besides, in three months Eric wouldcepting her mother's opinions. She | | have forgotten all about her. went over and over and round and Downstairs Mr. Baird paced back|round the circumstances in an effort | to reconcile the fact that her parents | were always right and that they were ’lnduhulbly wrong. They did not know Eric, and yet they passed judgment on him finally and irrevocably. They pretended to | be deeply concerned about her hap- piness—and yet they did not for a. moment consider permitting her the | thing she desired most. There was no use trying to make them see. It would take years. She would lose Eric. She must efither elope with him or lose him. She had been a fool ever to think of any hap- pler way. Milly began to save every penny of her allowance. She wrote down all the facts about trains from Boston to Chicago and lost the paper and wrote them down again anc ended in knowing them by heart. Finally she persuaded her father| she ought to go to Boston on a shop- | ping trip. “I think T'll go. too,” he| said after a moment. “I'd like tc Milly besltated. She hated to deceive her father, but she must. “I'd like awfully to go alone,” she said. ! Her father looked at her sharply.| Very well,” he said. Boston. That night she called up her mother on the long-distance| telephone just to reassure her. The next morning at three minutes after 10 she was safely ensconced aboard the 10:05 for Chicago. Milly sat looking out of the win- dow as the train pulled out of thel yards. She tried to occupy her mind ! Wwith detgils. She would wire her; * x ox K MIUAY shopped one afternoon In mother the moment she was married. She would get off at Englewood and taxi to the Blackstone, just in case anything did happen and they wired | ahead to a detective agency or the police. But if evervthing went well, | by Lucien Cary could guees Mr. Baird's intention. Indeed. Mr. Baird was most leisurely. At the Blackstone he took great pains In ordering a luncheon. But when &t last the waiter had gone on his nu- merous errands Mr. Baird spoke. “I owe you both an apology,” he said. “I realize that you didu't in- vite me. But—well—" he turned to Erle—"you see, I'm fond of her m:- self.” ic colored. am sure,” Pric said, “we shoui have invited you if we'd had the 2enst netion you'd come.’ It was Mr. Baird's turn to coler “I'll be honest,” he said. “Perhaps 1 wouldn't have come if you had in vited me.” “But how did you know?" Miiix asked. Her father smiled. * x x % +]T was your habit of writiug thinks down, Milly.” he said. 1 just happened to pick up a slip of paper on which you hud written ‘Bostou, 10:05' & great many times. And then you had scribbled ‘Blackstone' and *high noon’ and ‘September 1" and a!l the rest of it. And o when you went to Boston I followed you, and when you got on the 10:05 I got on, though I must say ¥ou didn't give me much time. And then I almost lost you i Englewood, you were so quick gei- ting off the train.” “But why—why didn't you stu. me?” Her father paused and took a lon=® breath. “I suppose” he said, “1 must have sympathized with you—a littl “Oh,” said Milly, and bit her lip 1¢ keep the tears back. Her father's hand closed over hers. “Are you going to invite me to e wedding, Milly*” he asked “I—I—1 taought you didn't under; stand,” Milly said. “T thought I could never make you see I was really in love with Eric, and I'd promised him. and so I—I ran away—and—don't vou see?" “I think T see now, Miliy,” he said “And you haven't any objection “Well” gald Mr. Balrd, judiciaily, “I wouldn't go =o far as to say T haven't any objection. T think I should object to any man who Want- | ea to marry you. He gave Eric a quizzical look “But from what I have learned | think perhaps I object less to Er Bullen than to any other man | know.” “But mother?" Milly cried SHE WOULD NOT SHE DID NOT KNOW WHY SHE COVLD NOT LOOK AT HIM, SHE COULDN'T, | something to tell you. My family| mother say" Eric put his other arm around her. | time.” jme next week " 'Next month No: of course not.” I'll go in, and I'll have to tell them where I've heen.‘ And 1 don't know what | it—take me away somewhere, perhaps. I know T'll have to promise not to write to you or see r—anything. han't knew where you are? you're just throwing me \IILLY took a deep breath and But I've got to walit. just can't defy them wuntil they've had | manner advocated by the °Misses @ chance to come around.” “Isn’t a month a chance?" x months would be fairer, dear.” | was actua front door of the house opened and ! and farth, tugging at his mustache. i she saw her father standing in the| *“What shall we do?’ Mrs. Baird hall 2 cried. * & % % “In the first place, Clara, let's not take it too. too seriously. “Andrew!” said Mre. Baird. “How started up the walk. “Good bean you 1) cvening, father.” she said, in quite the | 00007 4 iy ae Baira, “it tent | tragedy—it's comedy.” i g | Cholmondeley-. as - Ik, S T St He| “Amdrew.” said Mra. Baird. “you're a'man-and you didn't see what I saw. grinting. Milty'walked |y, 075 in" 1ove—she's infatuated—T she would be only five minutes late| Lh - for. the -appointment she had mafe| °T think” waid Mr. Baird. “tbat I with Eric—so long ago. | we were all to go down to Broad In the morning Milly had no appe-| Haven and give your mother a chance tte for breakfast. What if Eric|to know Ericand to decide what kind shouldn’t be there? She hadn't | of & wedding Milly should have, and arongl money to tAke Bec back. it buw mAkY Rrifeimalin asd %o Boston. But could she ever go home | USed to the idea of Milly i Eric failed her? Milly worked her- Eric Bullen—I think she might— self up into something like a pan: }she might remember she as a brid: Milly stood in the vestibule the last | herself once.” | ten minutes waliting for the train to| They laughed, and vet the tears stop. | came into all their eves She slipped down the steps, took| “Will you come, Milly?" asked her | tather. one glance to get her bearings, and. restraining the impulse to run, walk- ed rapidly down to the street level and into a waiting taxicab. In an- other minute she was able to breathe. Milly looked at her watch. She er will—" i woulan't be more than ten minutes| ‘“Never mind about your mother late, or twenty at the most. She had said her father. vAfter all. & hus kept her promise. band does have a iittle influence with The taxi whirled steadily south- his wife. Now, let's enjoy ourselves.” ward, Milly caught herself sitting on| “I'll never wish T hadn’t come the edge of the seat, as if urging it} Eric. “Will you®" and brazesly, in onward. She wondered what the elder | front of her father, he l“ronkcfl his Miss Cholmondeley would suggest as little finger into oune of Milly's on the the proper words of greeting to Eric. band that was somewhat shakily He needed no answer. Milly looked !at Eric, and no words could say well how she would like that chance She hesitated. “Do you suppos: I'll compromise on three—the first | past him irito the drawing room. Her Three months from!mother was not grinning, nor was They looked as if somebody had of September. now you wire me that they sented—or else I'll come for you." Milly put her head back on Eric's | ve con- | Kate. “Hello. everybody,” Milly said. Neither Kate months did seem long enough for her | spoke. family to get it through their heads that she was In love with Eric. Three | zically. | nor Milly's It was after 10 when they werel s father looked at her quiz- sway and plunge. But she only snug- gled closer to Eric and half clobed her eyes and gave herself up to happiness. * % X X THE house in Langmore stfeet was|. lighted from cellar to garret. Milly saw it, and, seeing it, she was no longer a woman in love. She was a little girl who had been naughty. Such is the tyranny of parents.: “It looks to, me, Milly,” Eric said, ceive you.” L | no joke.” Milly -said. The prospect of .facing an outraged fam- l ily sickened her. She knew she could never explain. She had put a bar- rier betwsen herself and them—for- ever. “I'm going in with you," Eric said, and reached for the gear shift. “No, you're not,” Milly said. “They would only make it worse.” Eric put his arm around her. “Come with me now,” he said. der. Would she ever see him again? of sending her to Europe or back tao sahool. “We can drive to Chicago by day- break and be married as soon as the place where you get a license ls open.” ‘Milly shook her head. “Why not chuck it all, Milly? We aren’t chiidren. And falling in love isn't a crime. Why don't we get married?’ Milly ralsed her hesd, freed one hand and stroked his'cheek. “I don't know, Eric; but I just can't.” «But we'll have to elope some: time." aid Milly sadly; “I suppose I uyes, we wil “Why not now?” “] want to give them a chance to —to accept it,” Milly said. ~ «But you know they won't.” wyes,” Milly vald; “L Know they won “And in the meantime they'll be nasty. Why, they'll kick about our writing to each other, probably.” “Pll have to promise not to write to you, and you'll have to promise not to write to me.” +“You mean I'm just to run away and not see you again or hear from you?" = “You have my promise, Eric.- You kaow I love you. And I will marry “as it they were getting ready to:re-|% Milly's head dropped to his shoul-§ Her mother would be quite capabled - OUT OF THE TAXI IN THE REAR OF THEIR OW: FATHER, TALL, FAMILIAR, UNPERTURBED, STEPPED MILLY'S a ghastly long time. Only Eric mustn't come for her. “Where's your hat?’ he asked. . Milly could not remember ;,,m;;“ bécoins of her hat. I must|the family wished to give her a gay|ed. Milly stared at him. He must ave lost it,” sl Milly's ‘mother fulded the lorgneite | ton people at Broad Haven, of whom | known for a long time, else how had that lay-in her lap and ‘ surveyed | her mother seemed to approve. Milly|he managed to be here? E Milly through ‘ft. “My dear,” she sald, “have you lost{ vided she forgot Eric Bullen. your-mind as weli?* * Milly wanted to cry. Wwould rot cry before them.” She shut |the next moment she realized that,|Milly. her teeth. Milly’s father patted her|even if she had the courage to speak “Then,” her father said, “let's all 'You had better go to bed,” | frankly, her mother would not have| have lunch.” © “Very well,” sajd Eric. meet me in Chicago at noon, in the lobby of ‘the Blackstone Hotel the first day of September!” Milly raised her head. “Yes, Eric” she said. me and take me home.” A clock struck midnight as Eric lifted her out of the car and un- wrapped the rag. “Good-bye,” she said and waved her But she gtching the: red-light of the speedster’s tail lamp growing smaller in.the dark. And then the She stood wi e e The taxicab had reached 39th street. Yes” said Mr. Baird, with exas- e e erating calmness. “I thought so, Milly ceased to wonder a e rflu" " | immeadiately practical. She opened ; Vi y k out the lit- “How - ‘can: youl. itake it so—ao—v|herivanityjcase and took o he 1 i f tle mirror it contained and powdered Mrs. Baird paused to think of a word e - i her nose and set her hat at its most e i le. The taxi drew up at wae never more serious in my | felChing angle. life,” said Mr. Baird, earnestly. “It i 7 'n and opened | hurts me to have Milly fall in love. T":: "“‘"fl !‘!::nd:';nfin“-}, pe But, after all, falling in love isn't|the S l‘;fy"—“h: e 8 lprfg.::b;hifl?n?:l' Z:,:dk;:,: Baira| But Milly did nothing but look at «One of those awful middle 'we:‘ n|nim. She was dumb. miserable. ; €T Eric's eyes reassured her, but a sud- “Well,” sald Mr. Baird, “I'm , e e e e diveriap aonvemm S e e Soltese oy mysere | inmped into the cab. Fe DR(en her you know." “That was different,” said Mrs. frd. Milly cried. “Eric” iB"‘rm not sure that you've ever for-| Y¢S sweetheart, said Eri glven me for it." Mr. Baird said. “But ! ‘Eric—I—love—you,” she s; the question is, what are we going to I want to g-g-g0 hom say to Milly?” Eric said. Milly “The thing to do is to take her | Stared up at him. He was strangely down east for the summer, Wwhere |URrapturous for Eric. Was he, too, g roung man, and|® (b CC Jetters from him.” i * ¥ ok k| 7 . “'m not sure” said Mr. Baird,| 1 DON'T know whether father and softly. d. “But thoughttully. : “I am,” said Mrs. Baird. firmly. (illy said. She plunged into an ac- “Very well” Mr. Baird said. “Only| . unt of how she had got away. But m.!u;‘:! ;Z:;n‘:e her about it. LeUS|gtier s moment she-saw that. Eric not talk al = i was not listening. He wi Upstairs Milly had ceased to sSob.|,ppogite her and Emmne:. ;:e:"\:: (v lay “‘ééh‘.'n".":. 'Jf:.:'«;‘:.::?-' | something shy, somethiug almost dif dreaming. ! fident—as if he were afraid of her. ;,n:mco::v:‘e:xlh:m:m:vll"rkl;': fld_‘:l‘(‘ | Mil:y lo:ked up at him under the edge - | of her hat. She slept, And in the dream the red| " wl would have supposed,” she sald apark grew larger instead of smaller. ' . o) : larger gnd larger, until Erle stood| .yoy know,” he said, “I don’t quite | beside her and put her in the car|g...- i i the entrance of the Blackstone. | Sric. i shoulder, He put his arm around|investigations conducted by one au- { thority lead him 1o believe that tree playing with a fork. She looked hard inte his searching eves. As he looked, she stopped be- ing & runaway girl and suddenly grow into woman. “No, neiiher wiil 1" said Milly o Langmore street. (Copyright, 1822, 1 rights reserved ) ot S Tresless Prairies. N lowa and in other parts of Mississippi valley treeless prairies, with their abundant grass and flowers. den tear rolled down her cheek ( formerly covered more than seve: eighths of the tctal surface. than one-eighth was forest area. Th lessness is due ‘tc atmospheric con ditions and is 10t caused by s topography. In prairie regio oration takes place rapidl; surfaces and those with a southerly slope. The ‘prevaillng winds of sum- fher are’'from the south or southwest and affect equaly areas that sre fla: and those that have a southwesterly slope. The result is that all surface 0 exposed are. covered by prajric fflom. but & dip of the surface or the mother know I'm gome or. not. 'nrolection of a ridge may cause trees 10 appear. fThe prairie aregs are uniformiy so situated that they are fully exposed to the agents which cause rapid evaporation, the-sun and the wind, ring much of the year they may .present conditions quite favorable to plant growth, bet there are seasons when ~ evaporation’ “and consequent desiceation bécome so extreme that adapted ‘to dry regions can strvive The mork or‘less frequent recurrence “that you would kiss me.” }nn)y tlose plants which are especially and they drove off together—drove ON | «p¢ier T have come all the way from fof such periods ix sufficient-to pre- and on: Boston to meet you?" vent fhe development of a forest flora * ok X X “That's just it,” said Eric. “I am|on"those surfaces which are most ex- afraid you may be wishing You|posed to evaporation. a - \'0 one so much as mentioned Eric| padn't.” 4N to Milly In the week that followed. “Eric, I love you. I do really love | Kate appeared too busy packing for | you,” she said. “But now that I have | the summer to talk. It was only | eloped with you I want to go home.” {when they were on the train that| <“There, there, darling” said Eric, Milly ‘knew where they were goin| Milly's father spoke to her alone.|kissed her twice, hard and seriously. ‘We're golng to spend the summer| At that moment the taxi chugged | at Broad Haven, on Cape Cod. I hope|to a stop. Eric leaped out and reach- you'll like it.” ed back for Milly, “Here we are,” | . “I'm sure I will,” Milly said duti-|he said. 5 fully. Milly didn’t answer. She stepped “And, by the way, am I to undere|oyt. dased in her Indecision. stand that you will not communi-| “Eric,” she said, and then her voice cate with that young man?"” “Do you mean never?” arm. (I D — -"" The Motor Skate. ALTHOUGH the moter skate, which was- invente@ by a Parisian, “ you shall.” And he kissed her. Hel, ;g quite intricate, 4t is very sim- Ple. There are three purts—the roller skate foot plate nroper, mounted on four rubber tired wheels, the gasoline motor attached to it and a small.gaso-_ line tank worn at the skater's ‘bell. which supplies the skates through pair of rubber tubes. At first the small storage battery stopped. She swayed a little on Eric's | and spark coll were at the belt also but the improved skates have battery “Well,” sald Mr. Baird, uncomfort-| Out of the taxi in the rear of their i iny . o the and spark coil in a tiny metal box ably, “I don’t know that I insist on|own stepped Milly's father, tall, fa-lftted to the motor case. The foot never; let us say while you are at{miliar, unperturbed. Broad Haven.” 3 “Ah, Milly,” he =aid, “Here we are, “Very well, father. I won't com-|altogether again.” He kissed her munfcate with him while I am at Broad | there on the street. He was actually Haven.” shaking hands with Eric! Milly's Milly was not long in learning that | father seemed to take Eric for grant- summer. There was a colony of Bos-| know everything. He must h \was freer than she had ever been, pro-| “Did you eat any breakfast, Milly ™ he asked, in the most casual sort of Often Milly wished that she could!a tone. .tell her mother all about Eric. But| “Why—why—no, I didn't” said the courage to listen frankly. Her| Her father led the way into an- Milly went upsiairs to her .own|mother had ignored everything. other taxi, back to the Blackstone. room. She shut the door and threw Her mother assumed, Milly sald to|Milly and Eric exchanged glances| hinged plate by" the feet. To smiow Reérself .on. the -bed.and muMed her | herself, that she was a child, Incapa- i during that ride. They were ques- head in her pillow and cried and plate is of light. strong steel, hinge in ‘the middle for steering. The tiy motor ix a small, air cooled gasolir four-cycle type, such as used to be employed on somo motoreycles. The rear driving wheels are mounted ei- rect upon the motor crank shaft, thus making the motor Itself serve as the main support and frame. The Wheels are larger than ordinary roller skate ones and have solid rubber tires. The skater puts on the belt, win its flat gasoline tank and feedmg tubes; clamping on the skates, he connects the tubes, switches on the current and glides off by giving a push with his feet to each skate to start the motor. Steering is done by working the front part of the down he cuts off the current or lifts ble of knowing her own mind, igno-ltioning glances. Neither of them the rear wheels from the ground.