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And we'll go to tea. How many kinds of tea are there?" "Oh, Ceylon and English Breakfast and oh Chinese." "And golf tees!" he added, excitedly, as they took a seat in front atop the bus. "Puns are a beginning at least," she reflected. "But how many kinds of tea are there, Istra?... Oh say, I hadn't ought to " "Course; call me Istra or anything else. Only, you mustn't call my bluff.
When he returned to their outdoor inn the late afternoon glow lay along the rich fields that sloped down from their well-concealed nook. Istra was still asleep, but her cheek now lay wistfully on the crook of her thin arm.
He wanted to rush out, to explain, to invite her in, to to He stuttered in his thought, and by now Nelly had hastened past, her face turned from them. Uneasily he tilted on the front of a cane-seated rocking-chair, glaring at a pile of books before one of Istra's trunks. Istra sat on the bedside nursing her knee.
Now, what did those mean? And Istra was always so discontented. "What 'd she do if she had to be on the job like Nelly?... Oh, Istra is wonderful. But gee! I dunno " And when he who has valorously loved says "But gee! I dunno " love flees in panic. He walked home thoughtfully. After dinner he said abruptly to Nelly, "I had a letter from Paris to-day." "Honestly? Who is she?" "G-g-g-g "
When they rejoined the crowd he was surprised to hear her talking volubly to Miss Proudfoot. He rejoiced that she was "game," but he did not rejoice long. For a frightened feeling that he had to hurry home and see Istra at once was turning him weak and cold.
"You are good to me," she half whispered, and smoothed his cheek, then slipped down on the outspread coat, and murmured, "Come; sit here by me, and we'll both get warm." All night the rain dribbled, but no one came to drive them away from the fire, and they dozed side by side, their hands close and their garments steaming. Istra fell asleep, and her head drooped on his shoulder.
Man fashion, he saw with acute clearness the pile of work on his desk, and, man fashion, responded, "No; be glad tuh." "How about the place where you're living? You spoke about its being so clean and all." The thought of Nelly and Istra together frightened him. "Why, I don't know as you'd like it so very much." "Oh, it'll be all right for a few days, anyway. Is there a room vacant."
"Won't you come in?" she said, hesitatingly. "Oh, thank you, but I guess I hadn't better." Suddenly she flashed out the humanest of smiles, her blue-gray eyes crinkling with cheery friendship. "Come in, come in, child." As he hesitatingly entered she warbled: "Needn't both be so lonely all the time, after all, need we? Even if you don't like poor Istra. You don't do you?"
To-day there was a girl came out with Billy Morrison of the N. Y. Courier, she is an artist but crazy about outdoor life, etc. Named Istra Nash, a red haired girl, slim as a match but the strangest face, pale but it lights up when she's talking to you. Took her up and she was not scared, most are. May 11: Miss Istra Nash came out by herself. She's thinking quite seriously about learning to fly.
At last he cursed himself, "Why don't you do something that 'd count for her, and not sit around yammering for her like a fool?" He worked on his plan to "bring the South into line" the Souvenir Company's line. Again and again he sprang up from the writing-table in his hot room when the presence of Istra came and stood compellingly by his chair. But he worked.
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