PACIFIC T R E F. AND VINE 



j\ Problem in Friends 



By 



Nan sat on the edge of the bed, one 

 foot swaying gently backward :ind for- 

 ward like a pendnlum as she tliought- 

 fnlly hugged her knee. 



"Klaine, if you will casta meditative 

 eye upon the subject under discussion 

 instead of studying my Sorosis boot, you 

 may come to some kind of a decision." 



Elaine looked up with reproachful blue 

 eyes. "'Nan, with your heaps of ad- 

 mirers I suppose you can't imagine what 

 it would be to have to decide between 

 two. If you weren't such a dear, I could 

 not have told you anything about it, but 

 — it's awfully hard. Nan. If Ralplionly 

 had a bad temper, or no sense of humor, 

 I could say he was counted out, but he 

 never gets angry and he always sees the 

 joke, but — he's short 1 0, Nan, why 

 can't all men be tall and all girls pretty !" 

 Klaine clasjied lier hands behind her 

 head and cast a side glance at the reflec- 

 tion in the mirror opposite. 



"Well, it is comparatively easy for you 

 now. If they were all tall, you would 

 only need to have a West Point measur- 

 ing stick and it would be; 'Step up, Tom, 

 six feet two. (."onie, Dick ; six feet one 

 and three-quarters. Here, Harry; six 

 feet two and an eight. Ah, no troubo- 

 I0U.S Venetian chests here. Marry. I 

 love you. .\ge, race, color, condition, to 

 the winds! Inches — fractions of inches 

 win, and Harry, you're it!" 



A well-aimed sofa pillow checked 

 further oratory on Nan's part. "You 

 know if inches were everything, Nan 

 Karrel, Harold Scott would — well, one 

 glance at his Highness would settle the 

 question." Elaine lay back in her huge 

 chair and gazed out at the white cloud 

 masses floating in the summer sky. 



Nan sat erect. Perhaj^s the sofa pil- 

 low was responsible for the l)righter 

 Hush on her cheeks. She glanced quickly 

 at her quiet, languid friend. 



".You had not told me the 'other' was 

 Harold Scott." 



Nan blushed a little. "You see, 1 did 

 not know it till Tuesday night. I was so 

 glad .lack came home when he did. He 

 interrupted Harold as we were standing 

 outside that night, and gave uie this op- 

 portunity for considering. He surprised 

 me so, for, don't you know, .Nan, I 

 thought he was one of your faithfuls." 



Nan walked to tho mirror and ad- 

 justed a si(leconil). "Oh, no; we have 

 known each other for ages and that is 

 why he drops in so often. Oidii't you 

 answer him?" 



"No, and I haven't dared to go down 

 the street his oflice is on for fear of meet- 

 ing him. Do you ever feel that way, 

 Nan?" 



■'No, I've never been afraid nf Harold 

 Scott " 



G. S. 



"Oh. I mean about the men who say 

 they love you." Elaine rocked idly : 

 Nan hummed a ragtime two-step. 



.After a short silence Elainecontinucil : 

 "Harold seems devoted to that Wood- 

 man Lodge, an<l I hate secret orders. I 

 think a man ought to have no secrets 

 from his wife, and he'd be out so much. 

 Now, Ralph doesn't like those things 

 any more than I do. .Vnd Kalph writes 

 adorable letters. Harohl writes business 

 letters so much I think he couldn't write 

 anything else. And Ralph expresses his 

 fondness for me in a thousand little 

 wa\'a; he's made no secret of it; but I 

 never dreamed that Harold's attention 

 was love. Once Ralph told me,,' she 

 added smiling, "than I had Mary Queen 

 of Scots' eyes. I asked him if he knew 

 the lady personally, but he wasn't to lie 

 put off that way." 



".\nd Harold never says those things?'' 



'•Well, I haven't talked with him since 

 he said a great deal more than I thought 

 he was capable of saying. I'ut he looks 

 at me ! Nan, you know how a man looks 

 at the girl he loves — after he knows she 

 knows." 



''Yes, I have noticed a man's indiscre- 

 tion witli his glances ; girls may llirt with 

 their eyes, but it's worse to tell the 

 truth. When did yon say you would 

 answer him, Elaine?" 



''That's just the bother. I told Ralph 

 two weeks ago that I would surely tell 

 him on the 15th, and when Harold said 

 hurriedly after Jack came that night, 

 'You'll be at the picnic Friday?' I said, 

 'Yes,' and Nan, I'riday is the 15th. So it 

 is one or the other that day. It isn't 

 thai I do not care for either; Idon'tknow 

 which I love. 1 know this sort of thing 

 is not new to you, but doesn't it ever 

 worry you?" 



"Oh, Elaine, your heart answers for 

 \ou. I am not tioubled by the many, as 

 you call them, because I am 'fancy free.' 

 you know." she added with a gay little 

 toss of her arms. 



Nan seemed to have suddenly lost in- 

 terest in Elaine's love problem. 



A small clock in the hall announced 

 the half hour with a murmuring strike 

 like the sni't blnw of a |ilayful kitten's 

 padded |iaw. 



Nan grabbed her broad hat. "I h:id 

 MO idea it was so late. .\unt IjO\i will 

 think me very neglectful. I have not 

 spent nnich time with her since she and 

 cousin Hal came, but Hal is always 

 around, and he is like all the college men 

 I've met; so proud of himself and appar- 

 ently fond of the nearest girl. He asked 

 me if he should wear his golf togs or a 

 white tennis suit to the jjienic. 1 sni)- 

 Ijosethe girls askeil him to go; I didn't. 

 I told him to wear a dress suit in our set 



alway.s. (Jood-bye, Elaine, don't wear 

 out yotir thinking apparatus over your 

 case. The right man will be the one 

 who will come and carry you off, ao you 

 needn't think about the merits or de- 

 merits of either." 



Nan's haste left her at the first turn of 

 the street Her customar}' sprightly 

 gait gave way to a lagging step. A heavy 

 heart and a light step never keep com- 

 pany. Even her thought was slow. Fri- 

 day her lifelong friend was to receive the 

 answer to his proposal of marriage from 

 her chum of years' standing. She did 

 not doubt the regard of either for her. 

 She and Harold had never been other 

 than friends, and Klaine she loved with 

 all the warmth of her ardent nature. 



Firmly she mounted the steps of her 

 home. The dull ache would stay with 

 her, she knew, but no one should guess 

 it. Friday at the picnic Elaine would 

 tell her all. I>ut after all what would 

 Elaine's answer matter? The ignominy 

 of loving where she was unloved could 

 never be forgotten. 



After her friend's departure, Elaine 

 walked over to her writing desk. "I 

 wonder what made Nan so hurried ; she 

 even talked with a jerk." She took two 

 photographs out of the drawer and re- 

 turned to her chair. 



"Harold doesn't look his real size in 

 this picture. He is so business-like and 

 decided looking; a man like that might 

 not be much of a home keeper. And 

 there is that lodge he belongs to. They 

 always make him an officer. He is act- 

 ually wearing the old stnnqi button in 

 this jihoto." 



She tossed the picture disdainfully on 

 the bed, and rocked nervously, holding 

 Ralph's photogra|)h before her face. 

 Slowly a smile took the place of the pout. 



"He is so merry-hearted, and I think 

 we are mentally companionable. Yet 

 he is short; I'd have to give up French 

 heels. Rut he says such lovely things, 

 and he is so jolly?" 



Late in the afternoon the picnic party 

 was called toas.-endjle for the homeward 

 ride by the blowing of the tally-ho horns. 

 As the merry. makers came in groups and 

 couples from up and down the river and 

 from the oak-shaded bluff, a casual ob- 

 server might have noticed a young man 

 and a girl idly walking toward the 

 coach. 



From her high seat beside her cousin 

 Hal, Nan l'\irrel greeted them with a 

 flourish and a discordant blast from her 

 horn. She saw two lovers; a tall erect 

 m.xn whoje face bore the stamp of a 

 clear conscience and a new-found joy ; 

 and a fair girl whose every movement 

 was vibrant with happiness and upon 

 whose Hushed right cheek showed the 

 print of a AVoodnian butlon. 



