ly. "This is my spree and I can't let
any other fellow butt in. We'll get seats together, and have a bully
time, if you're willing to go with us. Come, Judy, we'll hustle on
ahead and secure the seats, while these elderly folks stroll after us
at their leisure."

Patricia found Tom Hughes a very agreeable companion on the walk to the
theater, and they discussed tennis and swimming with an ardor that was
most exhilarating, while Elinor and Mr. Hilton kept up as best they
could among the holiday crowds to the brisk pace that they maintained
in the lead.

The play was all that had been promised and they sat through its
mystic-scenes with rapt attention, comparing notes enthusiastically in
the intervals when the curtain was down, and when it was over they came
out into the daylight with that peculiar sensation of unreality in the
daylight world that follows an enthralling matinee.

"Don't the people seem funny-looking?" said Judith, blinking at the
gayly dressed crush at the theater entrance. "They all seem like
actors in a play, with the twinkly electric lights and the streaky
yellow sunset behind those big buildings."

They paused a moment on the corner for a look at the twilit streets
with their white pulsing points of electric lamps flickering above the
hurrying crowds, while behind the sky line, with its towers and
minarets and huge squares of office buildings, the clear topaz of the
winter sunset surged upward in the dimming turquoise sky.

"There's a picture for you, Elinor," said David, pointing to the
beautiful serrated mass of the great buildings looming misty-blue
against the gold. "Can't you remember that, and put it on canvas when
you get home?"

Elinor made no reply. Her eyes were fixed on the lovely fading
panorama of life that was shifting before them. The twilight, the
sunset, and the haunting magic of the miracle play still lingering with
them, touched them all into sudden seriousness, and they stood silent
and intent, forgetful of the whirl of pleasure and traffic that swept
about them.

"See how the sunset catches on the big cross on the tower!" said
Patricia softly. "It's the only thing up there in the sky that answers
the sun's signaling."

"'Light answering to light,'" quoted Mr. Hilton, and Patricia flashed
an eager glance of appreciation at his earnest face.

After the young men had waved their last farewells from the car windows
and the train had puffed its way out of the great