ou will be living in your
new home. The others--Pete especially--are very much interested in
Recreation Hall. They have just worked out a new scheme for parks and
gardens. It is very interesting, though purely decorative. It offers
many absorbing problems. But, for my own part, I must confess I am more
interested in the library. It will be most gratifying to see all our
books ranged on shelves, classified and catalogued at last. It is a good
little library as amateur libraries go. The others speak again and again
of my foresight during those early months in taking care of the books.
We have many fine books--what people call solid reading--and a really
extraordinary collection of dictionaries. You see, many scholars travel
in the Orient, and they feel they must get up on all kinds of things. I
suggested to-day that we draw up a constitution for Angel Island. For
by the end of twenty years, there will be a third generation growing
up here. And then, the population will increase amazingly. Besides, it
offers many subjects for discussion in our evenings at the Clubhouse,
etc., etc., etc."

Holding the tired-out little junior in her lap, Chiquita rocked and
fanned herself and napped--and woke--and rocked and fanned herself and
napped again.

"Oh, don't bore me with any talk about the New Camp," Clara was saying
to Pete. "I'm not an atom interested in it."

"But you're going to live there sometime," Pete remonstrated, wrinkling
in perplexity his fiery, freckled face.

"Yes, but I don't feel as if I were. It's all so far away. And I never
see it. If I had anything to say about it, I might feel differently. But
I haven't. So please don't inflict it on me."

"But it's the inspiration of building it for you women," Pete said
gravely, "that makes us men work like slaves. We're only doing it for
your sake. It is the expression of our love and admiration for you."

"Oh, slush!" exclaimed Clara flippantly, borrowing from Honey's
vocabulary. "You're building it to please yourself. Besides, I don't
want to be an inspiration for anything."

"All right, then," Pete said in an aggrieved tone. "But you are an
inspiration, just the same. It is the chief vocation of women." He moved
over to the desk and took up a bunch of papers there.

"Oh, are you going to write again this evening?" Clara asked in a burst
of despair.

"Yes." Pete hesitated. "I thought I'd work for an hour or two and then
I'd go out."

Clara groaned. "If you le