Andrew the Glad

Her independence prompted her to live alone in a smart down-town

apartment with her old negro mammy, but her affections demanded that she

take refuge at all times under the sheltering wings of Mrs. Buchanan, who

kept a dainty nest always in readiness for her.

The tumultuous wooing of David Kildare had been going on since her early

teens under the delighted eyes of the major, who in turn both furthered

and hindered the suit by his extremely philosophical advice.

Phoebe was the crystallization of an infusion of the blood of many

cultured, high-bred, haughty women which had been melted in the retort of

a stern necessity and had come out a rather brilliant specimen of the

modern woman, if a bit hard. Viewed in some ways she became an alarming

augury of the future, but there are always potent counter-forces at work

in life's laboratory, and the kind of forces that David Kildare brought

to bear in his wooing were never exactly to be calculated upon. And so

the major spent much time in the contemplation of the problem presented.

And when she had come in after a late lunch to call upon their guest, it

had been intensely interesting to the major to regard the effect of the

meeting of Phoebe's and Caroline Darrah's personalities. Caroline's

lovely, shy child's eyes had melted with delight under Phoebe's straight,

gray, friendly glances and her fascination for the tall, strong, radiant

woman, who sat beside her, had been so obvious that the major had

chuckled to himself under his breath as he watched them make friends,

under Mrs. Matilda's poorly concealed anxiety that they should at once

adopt cordial relations.

"And so he consented to undertake the commission for you because he was

interested?" Phoebe was asking as they talked about the sketches of the

statue. A very great sculptor was doing the work for Caroline Darrah

Brown, and it interested Phoebe to hear how he had consented to accept so

unimportant a commission.

"Yes," answered Caroline in her exquisite voice which showed only the

faintest liquid trace of her southern inheritance. "I told him all about

it and he became interested. He is very great, and simple, and kind. He

made it easy to show him how I felt. I couldn't tell him much except

how I felt; but I think it has something of--that--in--it. Don't you

think so?" As she spoke she laid her white hand on the arm of Phoebe's

chair and leaned forward with her dewy tender eyes looking straight into

the gray ones opposite her.

For a moment Phoebe returned the glance with a quiet seriousness, then

her eyes lighted a second, were suffused with a quick moisture, and with

a proud gesture she bent forward, laying both hands on Caroline's

shoulders as she pressed a deep kiss on the girl's red lips.