Which Way?

Which Way? By Elsie Hoffman Buchanan "Stack o' wheats," sang out the busy waiter at McDugan's lunch counter. "Stack o' wheats," echoed Sambo's melodious bass from behind the smoky partition, whence a clatter of dishes and pans kept tempo with the rumbling, bumping street cars as they jogged by the open door of the place. Paul whisked the flies off the syrup mug with his counter rag, and pushed the wheat cakes toward the impatient customer. Glancing anxiously at the greasy clock, he quickly gathered up the dirty dishes strewn along the counter. McDugan watched his quick movements approvingly, as he brushed the crumbs carefully off the counter. Then Paul consulted his watch. A tiny picture of a girl's face was pasted on it. He smiled fondly while a flood of happy memories rushed through his mind. "And this is the day Louise gets here!" he murmured to himself. His pulses quickened as he recalled the last evening they had spent together before he had left home. How she had blushed like a lovely rose when he had asked her to wear his high-school ring while he was gone! "Has she been wearing it all this time?" he won- dered. The clock struck eight. "I'd like to leave a little earlier than usual this morning. McDugan." Paul finally an- nounced, fumbling with the knot of his apron. "Got to go down to the station." "Go 'head," responded his friendly boss. He watched the handsome young fellow curiously out of the corner of his eye. "Ain't you goin' to school this mornin'?" "Sure, but I'll miss my first class." Paul flung his apron over the partition and snatched his hat off the rack. Suddenly a broad grin broke out on the Irishman's face. "Say, boy, is she comin' today from Utah?" Paul flashed him a happy smile. Then he darted out of the door and caught a passing street car, leaving the older man chuckling to himself, "Sure stuck on that dame. Wouldn't step another skirt in New York! Well — hope she's half good 'nough for him. Too swell a guy to get jipped by any com- mon rubbish!" "Are you sure that train forty- seven is on time?" Paul asked the gate- man for the third time, as he paced back and forth in the Pennsylvania Avenue station. The minutes crawled by like hours. "Will she be on that train?" he asked himself a dozen times. "Wonder if she's changed any?" He glanced anxiously into a mirror and adjusted his tie. Clang! The iron gates were thrown open. Passengers were streaming out. "Louise!" He was holding her in his arms, unaware of the people brushing by them. Reluctantly he released her to shake hands with her aunt who had been standing by. admiring the tall, hand- some young man who once had been her Sunday School pupil. She had heard, with pride, of his splendid ac- tivity in the Brooklyn branch, through the returned missionaries. Mrs. Bagley walked over to the In- formation window, and Louise and Paul sat down on one of the benches to await her return. "It's great to see you again. Louise. You haven't changed a bit." His hungry eyes were devouring her. Was he trying to penetrate her thoughts to re-assure himself that she had not changed in her feelings toward him?

Feb.. 1929 WHICH WAY? 313 "Nor have you changed any, Paul." Her dark eyes glowed with understand- ing, as he pressed her hand. As of old, her face was calm and thoughtful, but when she did smile, it was like brilliant sunshine darting into a cool, leafy bower. Paul marveled that anyone could be half so sweet and beautiful as she was. "I wish you weren't going to Eu- rope," he said seriously. "At least, not until I could replace this ring with a better one." He studied her face thoughtfully, while he fingered his ring which was on her hand. She dropped her eyes beneath his earnest gaze and a delicate blush suf- fused her cheeks. Three matronly ladies seated them- selves on the bench, alongside of Paul, much to his annoyance. "You'll probably see Grant Trow- bridge over there, if you visit the Lon- don branch," Paul commented, after the ladies had settled themselves on the bench. "Is he laboring in London now?" Louise queried. "Yes. He wrote me that he'll be there now until he is released from his mission." "By the way. have you seen any- thing of his sister, June?" Louise ap- peared to have suddenly become inter- ested in her gloves, and was smoothing out each finger carefully. "She's in one of my classes this sum- mer!" he exclaimed eagerly, not having noticed the difference in tone of her last question. "But Louise, tell me what's new at home. Are Charley and Fern married yet?" She related all the home news she could think of and they talked and laughed over some of the good times they used to have when the old crowd was together. "I'm glad you girls used to make us fellows wash the dishes sometimes," he said. "You trained me for my present employment. I've got a new job now, slinging hash." "Well, I certainly admire your grit and determination to get through school!" she exclaimed with dewy eyes. "If I'm lucky, I'll get through by fall, and then Louise — ." But Mrs. Bagely bad returned, and wanted to go shopping before they had to board the ship. It was sched- uled to leave at five o'clock. Paul put them in a taxi and promised to see them again at four o'clock at the dock. That afternoon all was bustle and confusion on the enormous, covered pier. The scheduled time for de- parture of the gigantic European liner was drawing near. Stewards and mes- senger boys were scurrying through the crowd. The atmosphere was tense with excitement, and buzzing with animated conversation. Paul had found Louise and her aunt on the broad promenade deck, which was now being rapidly filled with pas- sengers. Three loud blasts startled them. "The signal for departure," explained Mrs. Bagley. Paul shook hands warmly with her. "Take good care of Louise now, won't you. And tell Grant Trowbridge 'Hello' for me, if you see him over there. By jove! that reminds me Louise," he said, turning to her, "June asked me to tell you that she had an examination and just couldn't come down to see you off." Another loud blast gave him the final warning. He could scarcely say goodbye to Louise before he was rushed down the gangway with other visitors. Whistles were blowing, orders be- ing shouted, signals flashing, bands playing, and bells ringing. The gang- planks were being raised. The crowds on the shore pressed forward, shouting and frantically waving goodbye, as the great floating-palace slowly glided away from the dock. When the ship was well on its way, Louise and her aunt went to their cabin to unpack. Weary of the eventful

314 IMPROVEMENT ERA Feb.. 1929 day's excitement, Mrs. Bagley was soon in peaceful slumber, but Louise was too thrilled to sleep. "Am I really on my way to Eu- rope?" she asked herself. For years she had worked, saved, and planned for this trip. Many times she had denied herself pleasures and pretty clothes, in order to swell her little bank account. Although reared by her aunt in very humble cir- cumstances, she had always yearned to travel and see the world. She had clerked in Mr. Timkins' store, where she used to admire the pretty dresses that other girls could afford to buy. Later she had been transferred to his office, where her meagre salary had been slightly increased. Working long hours in the dark, dingy office had become very distasteful to her, but finally the happy day arrived when she could leave the dreary office and commence the long-dreamed-of trip to Europe. She breathed a prayer of thankfulness, and drifted off to the land of dreams. "Music! A silvery trumpet. Where am I?" thought Louise, as the first notes roused her from her deep slum- bers. In an instant, she was awake. "It's the first call for breakfast." The gentle lashing of the waves against the ship reminded her that the great sea, just outside the wall, was calling to her. She sat up to look out of the porthole just above her berth. Endless swells of deep, blue water stretched before her view. A little jingle which Paul had once told her came to her mind: "I was thinking of the many shores the wandering waves caressed, Of the many times your lips to mine were pressed. I was thinking how in all this world, I love you best of any — " A hearty laugh in deep melodious voice interrupted her musings. She listened attentively, wondering who the man was. He had evidently just walked through the corridor, and was already beyond her hearing. After breakfast, Louise and her auntie enjoyed a delightful promenade on the deck. Then they strolled into the luxurious lounging room, where they met some congenial people. Among them, Louise detected the owner of the laughing voice who had piqued her curiosity. He was a tall, well-dressed man of thirty-five, whose perfect tailoring and handsome physique attracted one's at- tention. His silken manners and deep self-assurance suggested to a keen ob- server that the man had, on many voyages, "lived, laughed and loved." When he talked, he usually fingered an exquisite little Masonic charm, which hung from his watch-chain. "Auntie, isn't Mr. Steiner fascin- ating?" Louise exclaimed, as they were dressing for dinner. "He has a pleasing personality," Mrs. Bagley answered. "That Mrs. Schofield, with whom I was talking, told me that Mr. Steiner is the Euro- pean buyer for a big New York firm." "I suppose he'll be at the dance to- morrow night," Louise commented, taking another survey of herself in the mirror, and pinning down an unruly lock of her dark hair. The next afternoon, the stewards were busy decorating the deck, and everybody was enthused about the dance. The night was ideal, a smooth sea, big silvery moon, while a fine string orchestra swayed the light-hearted dancers. Some of the girls realized their fond hopes when Mr. Steiner danced with them. More than one pair of eyes followed his splendid form through the crowd. "May I have this dance, Miss Bag- ley?" Louise heard him saying. Be- fore she realized.it, she was waltzing with him. Had she ever enjoyed a dance more than this one? she asked herself, as they glided over the deck in perfect rhythm. Yes — the night

Feb.. 1929 WHICH WAY? 315 Paul had given her his ring to wear. Mr. Steiner was clasping her hand so tightly that Paul's ring hurt her. "I've never had the pleasure of visiting Utah," he was saying. "The 'Mor- mons' are a peculiar people, aren't they?" She met his questioning gaze. As she hesitated an instant, she felt her cheeks flush. "Y-yes," she faltered, and he continued. "I understand they have a very unique organization, but I suppose they are very much the same as other people, as a whole." After a wretched moment of inde- cision, she again agreed with him. "I've heard that Utah is noted for her beautiful daughters," he added, "and now I am convinced." How her heart beat! Later, in her stateroom, she smiled at herself in the mirror, as his last words rang in her ears. What was there about this man that made him so different from anyone she had ever known before? Everybody seemed to like him so very much; especially the girls! Then she pondered over his questions about her Church, with a disquieting twinge in her heart. She wished she had told him why they were a peculiar people. Paul would have welcomed such an opportunity, but she had utterly failed. Lying awake in her berth, she re- solved that she would tell Mr. Steiner some time about her Church and peo- ple. She asked her Heavenly Father to help her carry out her decision. After the concert the next evening. Mr. Steiner drew Louise aside from the crowd. "Shall we go for a stroll on the upper deck?" he queried. They strolled awhile and then sat down to enjoy the beautiful summer night. Relaxed in the big, comfortable chairs, they studied the starry heavens illuminated by the full moon. He smoked his cigarette in silence. "I wonder what the stars would tell us, if they could talk," Louise com- mented in an awed tone. "I'll tell you some time," he an- swered with a deep, mysterious laugh; then he added, more seriously, "They are the victims of law, the same as we are." "Made and held in position by an All-wise Creator," she interrupted. "What makes you think that?" Her heart fluttered an instant. Then she answered emphatically, "Because I know that God, our Father in heaven, understands all the laws of the uni- verse." He was surprised at her posi- tiveness, and through his questions, he learned a great deal about her faith and her Church. "Have you noticed this little charm I wear on my — ■" he began. "Yes indeed," she interrupted. "What does it mean?" "It's the emblem of the degree I hold as a Mason. The Masonic Lodge is an ancient order of brotherhood and it embodies my religious beliefs. Our temple rituals can be traced back to Solomon's temple." "I wish you could see our mag- nificent temples," Louise exclaimed, en- thusiastically, "but of course only members of our Church are admitted to them." He was surprised to hear how solemn and binding the "Mor- mon" temple marriages are, as com pared to those of other creeds. Then she told him about the vast missionary system of her Church, and that she knew one of the missionaries in Lon- don— Grant Trowbridge. He would be able to explain their religion much better than she could. "You are very sincere in your be- lief, aren't you, little girl?" He softly pressed her hand, which rested on the arm of her deck chair. She gently withdrew it. "You're a good little preacher," he continued. "Can't we be closer friends. Louise?" The stars shone brighter. The lady in the moon smiled down, understand- ing^. The girl's heart skipped a beat, as she shyly acceded to his request to become friends.

316 IMPROVEMENT ERA Feb., 19Z9 The next morning Louise wrote a long, newsy letter to Paul, in which she related her Gospel conversation with Mr. Steiner. She thought Paul would have gloried in such an oppor- tunity. The girl thoughtfully studied the picture of Paul which was pasted on the fly-leaf of her diary. Would he ever be rich like Bruce Steiner? Would he ever be able to act as cultured as this man who had traveled all over the world and knew such prominent peo- ple? She pictured Paul "slinging hash" (as he called it) in a cheap lunch-room. It certainly wasn't very dignified, but she admired him for his pluck. And he was so much younger than Mr. Steiner, and such a dear fellow. She fancied she could see him rushing to school from the lunchroom. June. the only daughter of wealthy Ed. Trowbridge, was also attending Co- lumbia this summer! She used to invite Paul to their house so much! Thinking of June made Louise realize how dear Paul was to her. By evening the waves were pitching high, crowned with foamy white-caps. The dense fog produced a clammy drizzle. The great fog horns were blowing incessantly, and a sharp wind swept the open decks. At an appointed hour Louise met Mr. Steiner on the upper deck. As they crossed it, a driving wind, accom- panied by a sharp lurch of the ship, sent the girl staggering across the dark deck. Suddenly two strong arms stead- ied her. She clung to Bruce Steiner to keep from falling. The storm seemed to lose its fury when his strong arms were around her. The blood tingled in her veins as he laughed exultantly, "How now, my little preacher?" Then he led her inside. They de- scended a broad marble staircase into the drawing-room, which seemed very brilliant after the outside dark- ness. It's grandeur bewildered Louise, and she asked herself, "Is this a ship or a king's palace?" Gorgeously gowned women and well-groomed men were chatting in groups, or reclining in the luxurious arm chairs. The air was fragrant with the perfume of flowers, and a sym- phony was being played exquisitely by a hidden orchestra. "This really is life, life!" Louise thought. What a contrast to the long hours of drudgery in Mr. Timkins' dingy office, where she had to rush to work every morn- ing, and return home each night weary and exhausted. Mr. Steiner introduced her to some of his acquaintances in the room, and she observed the ease with which he seemed to mingle with them. She longed for the poise and grace of these people. She marveled at the way they talked of parties and incidents in Paris, Rome, New York, Washington, Ber- lin, London, Capetown; just as though they were a group of country towns, all in one locality. A glorious new world had suddenly opened to her. The evening was a novel one for Louise, as were the alluring days which followed. Bruce Steiner observed how thrilled she was with his friends, and took every opportunity to let her mingle with them, telling her interest- ing bits of gossip about the brilliant Lady Huntington, or Baron von Will- aredt, or the wealthy Mrs. Campbell. The eight days' ship-life, in the company of one so fascinating as Mr. Steiner, had been as a revelation to the small-town girl. She began to wonder whether she was the same poor little girl who had drudged in Mr. Tim- kins' office. Louise was promenading the deck with Mr. Steiner on their last evening aboard ship. "Tomorrow I shall at- tend our Sunday School in London!" she announced happily. They were watching the lights blink and glimmer on the English coast, as the ship drew steadily toward the harbor.

Feb.. 1919 WHICH WAY? 317 "I'll be there, too!" he jovially re- sponded. "I'll try anything once." Early the next morning they found suitable rooms in a London hotel. Mrs. Bagley was suffering with a severe headache and remained at the hotel. Louise got information from the hotel clerk how to find the "Mor- mon" Church. Sunday School had just commenced in the little London branch when she and Mr. Steiner entered the hall. They were singing "O Ye Mountains High." To her, it was like coming home, to hear those dear, familiar strains. "The same spirit is here." she thought, as she joined in the singing.. After the meeting. Grant Trow- bridge hastened to Louise, where he was surprised to meet Mr. Steiner. He was eager for news from home — of Paul and June. Louise flushed un- comfortably when he plied her with questions about Paul, and it irritated her when he joked her about Paul and June being in summer school together. "Are you going to stay for church?" he queried of Louise and Mr. Steiner. "Oh, goodness, no!" retored the latter. "We've done our duty now for a long time, haven't we, Louise? Let's go down to Piccadilly Circus." She turned slowly and hesitatingly toward the door. She had certainly planned to stay for church when she came, but it was evident that he had been either bored or oddly amused with her Sunday School. She was half angry at herself as they rode to town in a taxi. But Piccadilly was entrancing to Louise, as were also the many other places in London to which Bruce took her. What a man! He seemed to know everything — where to go. what to do. and how to do it. And as one happy day slipped by after another, the little twinges of conscience that persisted to annoy her. grew less fre- quent. One morning he received a telegram which necessitated his immediate flight to Paris. He reserved three seats in the noon plane, and then persuaded the unwilling Mrs. Bagley and the willing Louise to accompany him. Of the twelve seats in the glass-enclosed cabin. Louise noticed that Bruce had reserved the very best ones for them, and he was much offended because she and her aunt insisted on paying for them. In- deed. Mrs. Bagley. though naturally unsuspicious, was beginning to fee! that Mr. Steiner was much too atten- tive. The trip was a thrilling one for her. There was no conversation in the plane because of the deafening noise of the engine. Bruce wrote some reports and letters during the two and one-half hour trip. Occasionally he handed her a little note. One of these brought a happy flush to her cheeks as she read. "Darling girl — can't we go through life this way together?" She thrilled at the prospect of a continuous life of sensation and new experiences. "On aeroplanes, ships, trains: living in fine hotels and wearing beautiful clothes!" she thought. "How wonderful!" While she was soaring through the air over the French countryside, dream- ing of a life of ease and luxury, Louise carelessly turned the pages of a mag- azine which was lying on her lap. Suddenly one of the advertisements in it caught her eye. A cozy kitchen window, with dainty ruffled curtains — the kind she had always planned to have in her own little home, some day. And a bird cage by the window! A young father was romping with his little girl on the cheery kitchen floor. The puppy was in the fray. too. What fun! Paul liked to romp with little kiddies that way. Suddenly a flood of memories swept over her. How Paul worshipped his baby sister! Louise recalled the day he brought her over to visit them, while she was baking her first angel-food cake. How Paul had enjoyed that cake, on the corner of the kitchen table, declaring he bad never in all his life eaten such a delicious morsel — that

318 IMPROVEMENT ERA Feb.. 1929 it was certainly fit for angel's food, having been made by one of them! Louise had laughingly threatened, "I'll bake a devil's-food cake next time, and then maybe you'll know when to stop eating!" His punish- ment had been to wash the dishes, and what a time he had getting into her new "fantangled" apron. Now her eyes rested on the older man sitting near her in the plane. How deep the lines in his face were! How grey his temples! Strange that she hadn't noticed these before. Children annoyed him. She recalled, with dis- pleasure, an incident on the ship, when he had scolded a sunny, little, curly- headed boy for playing Indian too loud. The matter slipped from her mind when they alighted in Paris, and drifted into the captivating life of the gay French capital. The charming boulevards, the cafes, the theatres, art galleries — endless thrills! But sometimes when Louise was all alone with her thoughts, as when studying the exquisite paintings in the Louvre, or after her prayers at night, she felt a disquieting unrest in her heart. Would Bruce exact a prom- ise from her before she sailed for home? Was she obligated to him? But she usually drowned her troubling thoughts in refreshing sleep. "Isn't Paris beautiful!" Louise ex- claimed one day as they stood alone on the highest etage of the lofty Eiffel Tower, viewing the world far below them. "It surely is, with you here, dear- est," and he put his arm around her. "Let's get married before you leave Paris," he pleaded. "Married?" She repeated the word almost audibly. While she had been fascinated by his attentions, she had not seriously thought of marrying him. She had always associated her wedding day with the Salt Lake Temple, a? something sacred and very beautiful. So now she was silent and confused. Bruce Steiner was disappointed. AH his powers of persuasion could not in- duce her to get married before she sailed for home. She would not de- cide definitely. Something had a strong hold on her which he could not fathom. He did not know the sacred truths deeply imbedded in her soul; nor that thoughts of a fine young student in New York were constantly coming up in her mind. He unlinked from his watch-chain the Masonic charm, which Louise had always admired. Handing it to her, he said, "Take this, dear. I'll be in Berlin for the next four weeks. I want this charm back, as I value it highly. But if you decide as I hope you will, you may keep it for me until I see you in New York. I hope my charm will bring you back to me." The next day, the big ship lay an- chored near Cherbourg, waiting for the last load of passengers to be brought to her by the tender. "Farewell!" Bruce Steiner waved to Louise and Mrs. Bagley, as the rolling sea widened between them. So long as his tall figure was visible on the shore, Louise waved her handkerchief. The sea air was refreshing. Louise spent many hours in her deck chair. She dreamed of the happy days spent with Bruce Steiner, and then she thought of Paul. Why had he not written more often of late? In vain she had looked for a letter from him before leaving Paris. What had Grant Trowbridge written to him? What of June? Paul knew the date that Louise and her aunt were to arrive in New York. Would he be there to greet them? The eventful day arrived. As they sailed past the Statue of Liberty the ship's band played "America," and Louise was thrilled to see her native land again. She looked anxiously at the crowd on the pier, but Paul was not there. Someone else was there, however, that she knew. June Trowbridge came hurrying to-

Feb., 1929 Which way? 319 ward her. What joy it was to see a familiar face from home, but Louise's heart was heavy. June chatted gaily about New York and her delightful summer at Colum- bia. Finally she spoke of Paul. Louise's pulses quickened. "He is going to debate tonight against a minister," June was saying. "Why, how is that?" exclaimed Mrs. Bagley. "Well, you see, our missionaries here think that Paul is the best speaker in the branch. He works here in the branch, you know, and so they in- sisted that he accept the challenge of this minister, Reverend Markham." "And you say it's tonight. June?" Louise had found her tongue. "We must certainly go!" Mrs. Bag- ley exclaimed. "Where is it to be?" "I think I can find the church all right," June answered. They had time enough to go to a hotel first, and unpack their suitcases. Then they took a street car out to the church. It was a fine, large structure, and was almost filled with well-dressed men and women. Down in the front, on the rostrum, Louise recognized Paul. The minister had commenced his speech, and the audience was listening intently. His voice became louder and sharper, as he thundered out his accu- sations against the "Mormons." He pounded on the pulpit for emphasis. Pointing his finger at Paul, he dra- matically demanded of him to try to disprove the statements he was making. Louise flushed with anger at the statements he was making about her people. Her heart went out to Paul up there all alone — the target for these base accusations and clever misinter- pretations. "If I could only help him," she thought. She closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself, and from her heart sent forth a prayer — the most sincere she had prayed in many months. Then Paul arose. In a fine, com- posed manner, he explained the prin- ciples so sacred to him, and defended his religion and his people. "A worthy son of our brave pio- neers," Louise whispered to her aunt. "But am I a worthy daughter?" she asked herself. "What am I doing to help the cause?" She thought of Bruce Steiner. A flush of guilt swept over her. She saw clearly, for the first time, that she had been standing on the edge of a dangerous precipice. How could she have been so blind1 After the debate, Louise hurried down the aisle to Paul. "Louise!" He held her hand tightly for several moments before he could speak again, but she read his feelings in his eyes. "You don't know how I've missed you," he murmured in a low voice. "But, Paul, you're so thin!" she in- terrupted, anxiously. "It's been a hard grind," he ad- mitted. "But, Louise," and his tired eyes glistened, "I got by all right, and we can go hon\e together, can't we?" * * * The next morning Louise walked up the broad stairs of the big New York post office. "Please register this little box." she instructed the clerk, "to Mr. Bruce Steiner at this address in Berlin." There is a spectacle grander than the ocean, and that is the conscience. There is a spectacle grander than the sky, and it is the interior of the soul. To write the poem of the human conscience, were the subject only one man, and he the lowest of men, would be reducing all epic poems into one supreme and final epos. It is no more possible to prevent thought from reverting to an ideal than the sea from returning to the shore. With the sailor this is called the tide; with the culprit it is called remorse. God heaves the soul like the ocean. — Joseph Cook.