II.

THE DAUGHTER OF PIONEERS.

As the two girls settled themselves in the electric car a constraint fell on them. Each realized that she knew scarcely anything about her companion and that because of the compact they had made, their dispositions must now affect each other strongly. Would the next few months be pleasantly modified or rendered disagreeable by their intimacy with each other? To Lael the problem had another side her mother. Would she like the addition to their little household?

She glanced curiously at her new friend in an endeavor to read her character. Cosma's clothing was worn threadbare but it was neat and well cared for. And hair, teeth, and finger nails bore testimony that they were never neglected. "She is a lady, thank goodness," Lael thought. Then she realized that twelve hours on the train had made her weary, so she relaxed and closed her eyes, and in a few moments dropped asleep. Cosma, whose nerves were irritated rather than soothed by the motion of the car, in turn examined Lael. Her features were rather irregular, but there was a strength, an intelligence, and a firmness of will expressed in the prominent nose, high forehead, and frimly meeting lips, that gave her a little thrill of fear. Kindness and tact and a sense of humor were indicated in the face, too, but Cosma felt that if there were ever a clash of wills between them, Lael would win in the end. "But she shan't make a Mormon of me again," Cosma whispered to

herself, turning her face from her companion as the old bitter thoughts reflected themselves in her eyes.

The next hour passed like a breath to Lael, but the jerking sway of the car, the increasing nausea caused by tobacco smoke from the smoking compartment, and the restless envy of her companion's ability to sleep rendered it an increasing torture to Cos

ma.

When they at last descended from the car, she drew a full breath of the fresh air, and discovered that it was loaded with elusive combinations of fruit blossom fragrance. On every side the rich pink of Elberta peach biossoms, the delicate pearl of apples, and the snowy fluff of plums vied with each other in beauty.

Lael, to whom their fragrance was the breath of home, seemed so delighted with the springtime loveliness of the orchards near them, the delicate green of the foothills beyond, the brown and blue of mountain cliff and gorge, and the white on the high peaks, that Cosma thought she would never stop gazing.

At last she turned her attention to the business of getting home. "My brother Fred lives in this house to the West," she told Cosma, "and he will send one of the children to take us home in the surrey, I am sure. You don't look fit for a mile walk in this sunshine, and I prefer to ride."

Fred and his wife were delighted that Lael was back again because her mother had gone to the farm a week ago with only a child for company. Even the dog welcomed her. And the three children insisted upon rid

ing home with her. They were all so interested in telling the little home events of the past winter that Cosma escaped the curious questions she dreaded.

There were two stops on the way to the Old Farm. One for the baggage and the other to call on Lael's brother Roy. Here the clamor of greeting was still greater, being added to by an extra dog and six children in stead of three. Again the curiosity subsequent to Cosma's introduction was smothered in a multitude of newsy details about the farm, and the clamor to ride with Aunt Lael resulted in the loading of the old surrey with more children.

As they passed the small country meeting house, one of the little girls said to Cosma, "See that big long row of poplar trees, Miss Wayne?"

"Yes," Cosma answered, trying to shut out the babel of other voices.

"That's across from where Aunt Lael and Grandma live," Wanda in

formed her, "and there's two big ditches by 'em. One on both sides. The Bishop lives on the other side of the trees, and Brother Jones on this

side. Brother Jones has the biggest patch of strawberries, and he raises raspberries, too. He has the nicest ones on the Bench, and I'm going to pick for him this summer."

The old horse stopped at the barnyard gate across from the row of poplars.

"Oh, Grandma, here's Aunt Lael come home," lusty young voices shouted, and immediately a little girl ran out of the big white brick house, who, by general cast of features, Cosma knew to be another neice of Lael's. She was followed by a tall, grayhaired woman, who walked slowly, yet with a restrained briskness of movement that spoke of outward age and inward youth.

and-she scarcely knew what else; at any rate not this effect of stored reserve energy from Lael's invalid mother whom she was afraid to leave alone and for whom both daughtersin-law expressed so much concern because she had no one more responsible than little Maudie with her. Yet the children stopped their clamor at her approach and little Wanda whispered, "We musn't make a big noise around grandma. It makes her heart bad."

The greeting between mother and daughter was quiet, but Cosma noticed moisture in both pairs of blue eyes. Then she was introduced.

"She had no work this summer," Lael explained, "so I persuaded her to try it with us."

"I'm glad to know you, my dear," Mrs. Graham said, as she took Cosma's hand firmly in her own withered one, "for I'm sure I'll love any friend of Lael's.

buggy round, Maudie asked if they As the children started turning the could take her home, and when permission was granted, sped into the house for her clothes and rode away

with her counsins.

"Poor child," Mrs. Graham said. smilingly, "it has been torture for her to have everything so quiet, and she is so homesick for mama and baby she could hardly keep the tears back, but she stayed like a trump."

"What a relief this is going to be," Cosma thought as she entered the big cool kitchen, "after the noise and heat of Salt Lake City." It seemed the most quiet place she had ever known. The house faced north and between it and the road was a lawn, on one side of which a row of giant evergreens threw their morning shadows, while old sweet-cherry trees cast the coolness back in the afternoon.

The

this side, and the view from them included a smooth pasture across the street, with the pink and white of orchards beyond it. The row of poplars seemed so long it scarcely ended in time to give place to the foothills of Timpanogos. The quiet beauty of it was very restful.

Even the voices of Lael and her mother held a note of subdued quietress that soothed Cosma, and out in the trees the songs of birds seemed to emphasize the peace.

After a quickly prepared meal of country fare, of which Cosma ate an amount that surprised her. Mrs. Graham said, "Now you two girls must have a good rest after your trip."

"Oh, I can't rest until I've been

out and looked around," Lael replied, "Do you feel able to go, mother?"

"Certainly, I'm all right," Mrs. Graham answered, "Would you care to come, too, Miss Wayne?"

"If you don't mind I'd prefer the rest," she replied, and they left her to herself.

"Now that we're alone, Lael, for goodness sake, explain why you brought that girl here, and whatever is the matter with her. Has she got consumption? Or is she seeing ghosts all the time? Her big eyes fairly give me the shivers."

"To tell the truth, mother, I don't know just exactly why I did bring her. I never saw her until today." "Was it a case of love at first sight?"

"Pity rather. Or my curiosity to see how people's minds work," and Lael explained her meeting with Cosma, what she had learned of her reasons for apostatizing, and her hope that the country would restore bodily health and mental poise to the girl, and her promise that she should be free from preaching. Her mother made few comments, and Lael knew

she was suspending judgment. She prayed that Cosma might make a good impression.

As they disappeared in the orchard, Cosma lay down on the couch that stood on the porch, but the old circle of thoughts began their torture, and she knew she could not sleep. So she examined the house that was to be her home. The colors and decorations were as quiet as the voices of Lael and Mrs. Graham. Everything was arranged neatly and the rooms downstairs were refreshingly clean. But in the upstairs rooms a thick layer of dust showed that the old lady had not had time or strength to clean them.

Returning to the parlor she stood But looking out of the window. though the scene outside was gorgeously painted now in sunset colors, it held the attention but a moment. One hand was resting on the piano. As though the fingers did it of themselves, it lifted the lid. She paused, and then, with a sob, sat down and touched the keys caressingly, and as lovingly as a mother touches a babe. In a moment she began singing, Her voice trembled at first, but as she lost herself in the song, it gained in confidence and rang out clear and true.

As Mrs. Graham and Lael returned, a look of surprise and pleasure flashed from face to face at sound of the music. Quietly they sat down on the porch steps to listen. Cosma soon stopped singing and began improvising softly. It seemed to Lael, remembering how she had found Cosma, that she could not endure the passionate complaining of that weird melody. To escape from the pity of it, she arose, and slipping a cushion behind her mother, said she would go an! milk, and went away to finish the duties of the evening. Mrs Graham seemed to be carried out of herself by the music and remained list

ening as the evening shadows widened until all the colors of orchards, hills and mountains were lost in soft grays and blacks.

At last the music sobbed itself into silence and Cosma came out on the porch and stood near the old lady looking off at the outlines of the mountain, shadowy and mysterious in the dusk. Somewhere in the pasture over the way a chorus of frogs were calling softly. Cosma drew a deep sigh as the peace of it all settled over her spirit.

Mrs. Graham's hand touched hers and closed firmly about it. "Thank you, dearie, for the first good music I've heard in a long time. It has rested me wonderfully."

"I'm glad," Cosma replied, and

something in the gentle voice and clasping hand of the old lady stirred an impulse of confidence in her. In a minute or two, she was pouring the heartache and bitterness of the last year into the motherly heart at her side. Mrs. Graham listened in all sympathy trying to piece out the disconnected fragments, until it was bed time. As they went into the light, a faint sense of shame crept over Cosma that she had made so much of her sorrow, when she saw the lines that care and trouble had woven among the smile wrinkles in the face under the white hair. She thought of the millions facing sorrow and overcoming trouble and for a moment forgot herself. But for a moment only. (To be Continued.)