"There's a picture for you, Elinor," said David, pointing to the beautiful serrated mass of the great buildings looming misty-blue against the gold. "Can't you remember that, and put it on canvas when you get home?"
Elinor made no reply. Her eyes were fixed on the lovely fading panorama of life that was shifting before them. The twilight, the sunset, and the haunting magic of the miracle play still lingering with them, touched them all into sudden seriousness, and they stood silent and intent, forgetful of the whirl of pleasure and traffic that swept about them.
"See how the sunset catches on the big cross on the tower!" said Patricia softly. "It's the only thing up there in the sky that answers the sun's signaling."
"'Light answering to light,'" quoted Mr. Hilton, and Patricia flashed an eager glance of appreciation at his earnest face.
After the young men had waved their last farewells from the car windows and the train had puffed its way out of the great arching dome, Patricia spoke her mind with her usual frankness.
"Tom Hughes is an awfully nice boy," she said, slipping a hand into Judith's and Elinor's arm, as they paced the platform, waiting for Miss Jinny's train. "But for pure, sheer adorableness, give me Mr. Hilton, every time. Don't you think he's a perfect duck, Elinor?"
Elinor laughed easily. "He seems to be very pleasant and he certainly is popular with the boys," she admitted, "but I must say I like Tommy Hughes immensely."
"Which have you selected for your future partner, Judy?" teased Patricia, turning to her little sister. "I saw your speculative eye upon them, and I knew you were weighing them well. Which is it to be—Tommy or the Prof?"
"I'm getting too old to be treated like such a baby, Miss Pat," said Judith with great dignity. "I wish you wouldn't be so silly! How could I marry an old person like Mr. Hilton, anyway?"
"Then it's Tom," cried Patricia delightedly. "I wonder if he'll mind being tagged. Shall you tell him his fate soon, Ju, or let him gradually waken to it?"