Angel Island

And just then, "Here they come!" Lulu cried happily.

Lulu's eyes turned away from the group of women. Her brown face had

lighted as though somebody had placed a torch beside it. The strings of

little dimples that her plumpness had brought in its wake played about

her mouth.

The trail that emerged from the jungle ran between bushes, and gradually

grew lower and lower, until it merged with a path shooting straight

across the sand to the Playground.

For a while the heads of the file of men appeared above the bushes; then

came shoulders, waists, knees; finally the entire figures. They strode

through the jungle with the walk of conquerors.

They were so absorbed in talk as not to realize that the camp was in

sight. Every woman's eye - and some subtle revivifying excitement

temporarily dispersed the discontent there - had found her mate long

before he remembered to look in her direction.

The children heard the voices and immediately raced, laughing and

shouting, to meet their fathers. Angela, beating her pinions in a very

frenzy of haste, arrived first. She fluttered away from outstretched

arms until she reached Ralph; he lifted her to his breast, carried her

snuggled there, his lips against her hair. Honey and Pete absently swung

their sons to their shoulders and went on talking. Junior, tired out by

his exertions, sat down plumply half-way. Grinning radiantly, he waited

for the procession to overtake him.

"Peachy," Julia asked in an aside, "have you ever asked Ralph what he

intends to do about Angela's wings? "

"What he intends to do?" Peachy echoed. "What do you mean? What can he

intend to do? What has he to say about them, anyway?"

"He may not intend anything," Julia answered gravely. "Still, if I were

you, I'd have a talk with him."

Time had brought its changes to the five men as to the five women; but

they were not such devastating changes.

Honey led the march, a huge wreath of uprooted blossoming plants hanging

about his neck. He was at the prime of his strength, the zenith of his

beauty and, in the semi-nudity that the climate permitted, more than

ever like a young wood-god. Health shone from his skin in a

copper-bronze that seemed to overlay the flesh like armor. Happiness

shone from his eyes in a fire-play that seemed never to die down. One

year more and middle age might lay its dulling finger upon him. But now

he positively flared with youth.

Close behind Honey came Billy Fairfax, still shock-headed, his blond

hair faded to tow, slimmer, more serious, more fine. His eyes ran ahead

of the others, found Julia's face, lighted up. His gaze lingered there

in a tender smile.