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Updated: June 27, 2025


Chalmers, if you realize that in this country it is impossible for a boy and a girl to associate together alone. It is barely permissible for you to see her in the company of others. Already your attentions have caused Zura to be talked about and there is very serious trouble with her grandfather.

Now I knew by what magic the transformation had been wrought in Zura. And the castle of dreams, built on my supposed understanding of youth and the way it grew, was swept away by a single breath from the young god of love. What a silly old jay bird I had been! Was that what Jane Gray had been smiling to herself about? I felt like shaking her for seeing it before I did.

Pine Tree and Maple Leaf, gay in holiday dress, usually so precise and formal, fluttered about like distracted butterflies as they served the dinner, often stopping to hide their faces in the long sleeves when Zura honored them with side remarks for, of course, she was the source of all the merriment, the life of the party. She also reduced Jane to a state of helpless laughter.

Any thoughts I'd cherished that young Hanaford would come at once, clear up all the confusion about himself, frankly declare his love for Zura and be happy forever afterward died from lack of nourishment. Only my deep affection for the boy restrained my anger at his silence.

Three o'clock was the hour set to begin the ceremonies, but early morning found Jane and Zura as busy collecting books, bundles and a folding baby-organ, as if moving day had fallen upon the household.

Once in the moonlight I saw him stretch out his hand as if to touch Zura's glistening hair. Some memory smote him. He drew back sharply. At times I was sure that he was purposely avoiding her. Yet the thought seemed foolish. If ever there was a goodly sight for eyes glad or sad it was the incarnation of joyous girlhood whose name was Zura Wingate.

Jane had been telling of a Japanese woman, who, handicapped by the loss of an arm, and no longer being useful in field work, trudged every morning eight miles to school where she could learn sewing so as to help husband and babies. "Well!" remarked Zura doubtingly. "I can't sew with two hands, and my tongue thrown in.

If I were, I would leave off teaching the so-called heathen at once and be head chaplain to some of the ninety millions you were talking about. Speaking of golden texts, I know my Bible too well to cast pearls. Now, young man, once for all let me say, this thing simply cannot be. Zura is a lonely girl in a strange land. She must live under her grandfather's roof.

My daddy used them for pictures in his studio. Sit right down here by the fire, Miss Jaygray, and while you dissipate in hot beef tea, I'll give you a lesson on models." Zura painted so graphically a word picture of her father's studio it made me laugh, for I knew well enough that such clotheless creatures would not be permitted outside the Cannibal islands. The sheriff would take them up.

He inherited all their garden skill and his equal could not be found in the Empire. For that reason, I forgave his backsliding seventy times one hundred and seventy, and kept him. Often Zura took the children she used as models for her pictures into the garden and loaded them with flowers. On the mossy banks they romped and indulged in feasts of tea and crackers.

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