with a kind of beauty-madness in its making. Nine years after
San Francisco lay in ashes its doors opened to the world. From Ruins had
grown a Great Dream, one so beautiful and strong, it seemed unreal.

Aleta and Frank went often. To them the Exposition was a rhapsody of
silent music and they seldom broke its harmonies with speech.

Frank had not recurred to the question he had asked on Presidio Hill.
But out of it had come an unspoken compact, a comradeship of spirit that
was very sweet.

They stood one day on the margin of Fine Arts Lagoon, gazing down at the
marvelous reflections of the great dome and its pillared colonnade.
"Frank," the girl said almost in a whisper, "I believe that Love is
God's heart, beating, beating ... through the Whole of Life." He turned
and saw that her eyes were radiant. "And I think that when we feel its
rhythm in us, it's like a call. A call to--"

"What?" he asked abashed.

"Service.... Frank," she faced him questioningly, half fearful. "You'll
forgive me, won't you? I--I'm going away."

She expected protest, exclamation. Instead he asked her, very quietly:
"To Europe, Aleta? The Red Cross?"

"Yes," she said, surprised. "How did you know?"

"I--I'm going, myself. As a stretcher bearer."

"Then--" her eyes were stars, "you've felt it, too?"

He nodded.

* * * * *

On the deck of an outbound steamer stood two figures. The sky was gray.
Drifts of fog hung plume-like over Alcatraz, veiled the Exposition domes
and turrets in a mystic glory. Sometimes it was like a great white
nothingness; then, as if by magic, Color, Forms and Beauty leaped forth
like some startling vision from a Land of Make Believe.

The woman at the stern-rail stretched forth her arms. "Goodbye," her
words were like a song, a song of heartbreak, mixed with exultation.
"Goodbye, Oh my City of Dreams!"

"We will come back," said the man shakily. "We will come with new peace
in our hearts."

"Perhaps," she replied, "but it will not matter. San Francisco will go
on, big, generous, unafraid in its sins and virtues. Oh, Frank, I love
it, don't you? I want it to be the greatest city in the world!"

He made no answer but he caught her hand and pressed it. The fog came
down about them like a mantle and shut them in.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PORT O' GOLD***

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