Free Silver Wings by Grace Livingston Hill

should say!” murmured the disgruntled youth, rising and flinging away his cigarette. He spoke as if he’d had much experience with that particular effort, and walked to where he could lean against an ivied wall by an arched gateway and watch the lady from afar. They had all been worshippers at Diana’s feet. Amory could readily see that.
    Presently the group dragged themselves from their comfortable positions and walked off by twos and threes to the country club to see the afternoon doubles played. But Diana remained in her chair, a slim, green, graceful figure, apparently enjoying utter relaxation.
    “You won’t change your mind and come, Di?” called Susanne from down by the dahlia gardens.
    “No thanks, Sue darling, not this afternoon!” said Diana, and she drowsed off again.
    When they were all out of hearing, she opened her eyes cautiously and looked around then stealthily slipped into the house. Five minutes later she appeared below again, with a neat little wicker knapsack slung over her shoulder, an up-to-date fishing rod in her hand, a soft slouch hat of olive-green over her bright head, and a determined look on her rose-tipped lips.
    She walked briskly and silently down the garden to the airstrip and turned her steps quite resolutely toward the woods as if she knew exactly where she was going. Quite as if she might have watched two figures go that way a little over an hour before.
    Amory watched her from her window, resting her hand a moment from her writing. Such a trim, slender, boylike figure, with determined back and graceful gait, like a young Robin Hood. She could not but admire her, and she wondered, with a smile of amusement on her lips, what would happen when the green fisherwoman appeared in the wood, supposing she were successful in her quest. How would the man with the strong chin take this interruption? What could he possibly do about it, anyway, if she were there?
    The summer day settled drowsily, dreamily into afternoon. There were bees below in the garden dipping into honeysuckle and roses. Their droning made a pleasant accompaniment to a meadowlark far off. Sweet perfumes wafted up from the garden, and the shimmer of light and color and warm sunshine sifted in at Amory’s open window and made her hungry for some of the life and joy and pleasant things that the other young people were having. She rebuked herself and plodded away at the pile of envelopes that had to be addressed, for it had been impressed upon her that they must be finished promptly.
    But now and again her eyes would stray to the distant mountains and rest on the great space of clear blue sky into which the flier had disappeared that morning.
    How far away that morning seemed now, and how unreal! Perhaps after all she had only dreamed it. Perhaps there was no silk handkerchief guarding a pair of little silver wings hidden away in her suitcase. Perhaps it was all a vision of the night.
    At last so strong was the feeling, that she laid down her pen, made sure her door was locked, and went and took out the wings again, holding them in the palm of her hand, reading the name inscribed on the back, Theodore Gareth Kingsley. Gareth. A beautiful name. And he had asked her to use it when she thought of him. The others called him Teddy. Gareth. Why, that was the name of one of King Arthur’s knights, the one with the great determination, wasn’t it? She must read up about it again. Doubtless his mother had some hidden meaning when she liked to call him that, unless indeed it was a family name. She would browse around down in that great library by and by and see if there was a copy of Knights of King Arthur and the Round Table, and read up. It would be something pleasant to do when she finished her work. She must keep busy here or she would be deadly lonely.
    As she sat holding the little silver wings in her hand she thought of her Testament, gone forth from her. Would it do any work for the kingdom anywhere? Would the young man read