answered at once that he would come down and
join us. We waited for him down there, and in another month he was with
us--dear old gentleman, leaning over the steamer rail, trying to hold back
the tears of joy that sprang into his eyes at sight of me. Little Beth was
with him, too, smart and stylish as ever, and good old Bob Trevor, whom
she shyly presented as her husband.

The beach at Mar del Plata, near Buenos Aires, is one of the most
beautiful spots in South America; and on a clear moonlit night, with the
Southern Cross overhead, it displays the starry heavens as few other
places can on this earth.

On such a night in February, 1942, Mercer and Anina sat together on the
sand, apart from the gay throng that crowded the pavilion below them. The
girl was dressed all in white, with a long black cape covering her wings.
Her beautiful blond hair was piled on her head in huge soft coils, and
over it she had thrown a filmy, sky-blue mantilla that shone with a soft
luster in the moonlight and seemed reflected in the blue of her eyes.

Mercer in white flannels sat beside her, cross-legged on the white sand,
with a newly purchased Hawaiian guitar across his lap. From the band stand
in the pavilion down the beach faint strains of music floated up to them.
The moon silvered the water before them; a soft, gentle breeze of summer
caressed their cheeks; the myriad stars glittered overhead like brilliant
gems scattered on the turquoise velvet of the sky.

Anina, chin cupped in her hand, sat staring at the wonderful heavens that
all her life before had been withheld from her sight. She sighed
tremulously.

"I want to say this is a night," Mercer declared, breaking a long silence.

"It's--it's beautiful," she answered softly. "Those millions of
worlds--like mine, perhaps--or like this one of yours." She turned to him.
"Ollie, which of them is my world?"

"You can't see it now, Anina. It's too close to the sun."

Again she sighed. "I'm sorry for that. It would seem closer, perhaps, if
we could see it."

"You're not sorry you came, Anina? You don't want to go back now?"

"Not now, Ollie." She smiled into his earnest, pleading eyes. "For those I
love are here as well as there. I have Miela and Alan--and--"

"And?" Mercer leaned forward eagerly.

"And Miela's little son--that darling little baby. We must go back soon
and see Miela. She will be wondering where we are."

Mercer sat back. "Oh," he said. "Yes, we must."

The