ities
and came down to Harvey to get the sunshine and prairie grass and the
woods and the waters of his childhood into his soul. But the Captain
waved the idea aside, "Nothing in the fiddling business, Grant--two
dollars a day and find yourself, is all the best of 'em make," protested
the Captain. "Let him do like I done--get at something sound and
practical early in life and 'y gory, man--look at me. What say?"

Grant did not answer, but when the Captain veered around to the subject
of his party, Grant promised to bring the whole Adams family. A moment
later the Captain saw the Sands's motor car on the road before them, and
said:

"Excuse me, Grant--here are the Sandses--I've got to invite them--Hi
there, Dan'l, come alongside." While the Captain was inviting Daniel
Sands, the Doctor's electric came purring up the hill to the club house
driven by Laura Van Dorn. Grant was trotting ahead to join the other
carpenters who were going to the street-car station, when Laura passing,
hailed him:

"Wait a minute, Grant, till I take this to father, and I'll go with
you."

As Laura Van Dorn turned her car around the club house, she stopped it
under the veranda overlooking the golf course and the rolling prairie
furrowed by the slowly winding stream. The afternoon sun slanting upon
the landscape brought out all its beauty--its gay greens, its somber,
contrasting browns, and its splashing of color from the fruit trees
across the valley that blushed pink and went white in the first unsure
ecstasies of new life. Then she saw Kenyon and Lila slowly walking up
the knoll to the road. The mother noted with quick instinct the way
their hands jostled together as they walked. The look that flashed from
their eyes when their hands touched--the look of proprietorship in each
other--told Laura Van Dorn that her life's work with Lila was finished.
The daughter's day of choice had come; and whatever of honesty, whatever
of sense, and sentiment, whatever of courage or conscience the mother
had put into the daughter's heart and mind was ready for its lifelong
test. Lila had embarked on her own journey; and motherhood was ended for
Laura Van Dorn.

As she looked at the girl, the mother saw herself, but she was not
embittered at the sad ending of her own journey along the road which her
daughter was taking. For years she had accepted as the fortunes of war,
what had come to her with her marriage, and because she had the
daughter, the mother k