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was not as cold as on that occasion； though by no means warm。 He
remembered how bare and comfortless he had thought the room。 Now
it looked almost luxurious。 And he had been homesick； or fancied
himself in that condition。 Compared to the homesickness he had
known during the past eighteen months that youthful seizure seemed
contemptible and quite without excuse。 He looked about the room
again； looked long and lovingly。 Then； with a sigh of content；
drew from his pocket the two letters which had lain upon the
sitting…room table when he arrived； opened them and began to read。
Madeline wrote； as always； vivaciously and at length。 The maternal
censorship having been removed； she wrote exactly as she felt。 She
could scarcely believe he was really going to be at home when he
received this； at home in dear； quaint； queer old South Harniss。
Just think； she had not seen the place for ever and ever so long；
not for over two years。 How were all the funny； odd people who
lived there all the time？ Did he remember how he and she used to
go to church every Sunday and sit through those dreadful； DREADFUL
sermons by that prosy old minister just as an excuse for meeting
each other afterward？ She was SO sorry she could not have been
there to welcome her hero when he stepped from the train。 If it
hadn't been for Mother's poor nerves she surely would have been。
He knew it； didn't he？ Of course he did。 But she should see him
soon 〃because Mother is planning already to come back to New York
in a few weeks and then you are to run over immediately and make us
a LONG visit。 And I shall be so PROUD of you。 There are lots of
Army fellows down here now； officers for the most part。 So we
dance and are very gaythat is； the other girls are； I； being an
engaged young lady； am very circumspect and demure； of course。
Mother carries The Lances about with her wherever she goes； to teas
and such things； and reads aloud from it often。 Captain Blanchard；
he is one of the family's officer friends； is crazy about your
poetry； dear。 He thinks it WONDERFUL。 You know what _I_ think of
it； don't you； and when I think that _I_ actually helped you； or
played at helping you write some of it！
〃And I am WILD to see your war cross。 Some of the officers here
have themthe crosses； I meanbut not many。 Captain Blanchard
has the military medal； and he is almost as modest about it as you
are about your decoration。 I don't see how you CAN be so modest。
If _I_ had a Croix de Guerre I should want EVERY ONE to know about
it。 At the tea dance the other afternoon there was a British major
who〃
And so on。 The second letter was really a continuation of the
first。 Albert read them both and； after the reading was finished；
sat for some time in the rocking chair； quite regardless of the
time and the cold； thinking。 He took from his pocketbook a
photograph； one which Madeline had sent him months before； which
had reached him while he lay in the French hospital after his
removal from the German camp。 He looked at the pretty face in the
photograph。 She looked just as he remembered her； almost exactly
as she had looked more than two years before； smiling； charming；
carefree。 She had not； apparently； grown older； those age…long
months had not changed her。 He rose and regarded his own
reflection in the mirror of the bureau。 He was surprised； as he
was constantly being surprised； to see that he； too； had not
changed greatly in personal appearance。
He walked about the room。 His grandmother had told him that his
room was just as he had left it。 〃I wouldn't change it； Albert；〃
she said； 〃even when we thought youyou wasn't comin' back。 I
couldn't touch it； somehow。 I kept thinkin'； 'Some day I will。
Pretty soon I MUST。' But I never did； and now I'm so glad。〃
He wandered back to the bureau and pulled open the upper drawers。
In those drawers were so many things； things which he had kept
there； either deliberately or because he was too indolent to
destroy them。 Old dance cards； invitations； and a bundle of
photographs； snapshots。 He removed the rubber band from the bundle
and stood looking them over。 Photographs of school fellows； of
picnic groups； of girls。 Sam Thatcher； Gertie Kendrickand Helen
Kendall。 There were at least a dozen of Helen。
One in particular was very good。 From that photograph the face of
Helen as he had known it four years before looked straight up into
hisclear…eyed； honest； a hint of humor and understanding and
common…sense in the gaze and at the corners of the lips。 He looked
at the photograph； and the photograph looked up at him。 He had not
seen her for so long a time。 He wondered if the war had changed
her as it had changed him。 Somehow he hoped it had not。 Change
did not seem necessary in her case。
There had been no correspondence between them since her letter
written when she heard of his enlistment。 He had not replied to
that because he knew Madeline would not wish him to do so。 He
wondered if she ever thought of him now； if she remembered their
adventure at High Point light。 He had thought of her often enough。
In those days and nights of horror in the prison camp and hospital
he had found a little relief； a little solace in lying with closed
eyes and summoning back from memory the things of home and the
faces of home。 And her face had been one of these。 Her face and
those of his grandparents and Rachel and Laban； and visions of the
old house and the roomsthey were the substantial things to cling
to and he had clung to them。 They WERE home。 Madelineah！ yes；
he had longed for her and dreamed of her； God knew； but Madeline；
of course； was different。
He snapped the rubber band once more about the bundle of photographs；
closed the drawer and prepared for bed。
For the two weeks following his return home he had a thoroughly
good time。 It was a tremendous comfort to get up when he pleased；
to eat the things he liked； to do much or little or nothing at his
own sweet will。 He walked a good deal； tramping along the beach in
the blustering wind and chilly sunshine and enjoying every breath
of the clean salt air。 He thought much during those solitary
walks； and at times； at home in the evenings； he would fall to
musing and sit silent for long periods。 His grandmother was
troubled。
〃Don't it seem to you； Zelotes；〃 she asked her husband； 〃as if
Albert was kind of discontented or unsatisfied these days？ He's
soso sort of fidgety。 Talks like the very mischief for ten
minutes and then don't speak for half an hour。 Sits still for a
long stretch and then jumps up and starts off walkin' as if he was
crazy。 What makes him act so？ He's kind of changed from what he
used to be。 Don't you think so？〃
The captain patted her shoulder。 〃Don't worry； Mother；〃 he said。
〃Al's older than he was and what he's been through has made him
older still。 As for the fidgety part of it； the settin' down and
jumpin' up and all that； that's the way they all act； so far as I
can learn。 Elisha Warren； over to South Denboro； tells me his
nephew has been that way ever since he got back。 Don't fret；
Mother； Al will come round all right。〃
〃I didn't know but he might be anxious to seeto see her； you
know。〃
〃Her？ Oh； you mean the Fosdick girl。 Well； he'll be goin' to see
her pretty soon； I presume likely。 They're due back in New York
'most any time now； I believe。 。 。 。 Oh； hum！ Why in time
couldn't he〃
〃Couldn't he what； Zelotes？〃
〃Oh； nothin'； nothin'。〃
The summons came only a day after this conversation。 It came in
the form of another letter from Madeline and one from Mrs。 Fosdick。
They were； so the latter wrote； back once more in their city home；
her nerves； thank Heaven； were quite strong again； and they were
expecting him； Albert； to come on at once。 〃We are all dying to
see you；〃 wrote Mrs。 Fosdick。 〃And poor； dear Madeline； of course；
is counting the moments。〃
〃Stay as long as you feel like； Al；〃 said the captain； when told of
the proposed visit。 〃It's the dull season at the office； anyhow；
and Labe and I can get along first…rate； with Issy to superintend。
Stay as long as you want to； only〃
〃Only what； Grandfather？〃
〃Only don't want to stay too long。 That is； don't fall in love
with New York so hard that you forget there is such a place as
South Harniss。〃
Albert smiled。 〃I've been in places farther away than New York；〃
he said； 〃and I never forgot South Harniss。〃
〃Um…hm。 。 。 。 Well； I shouldn't be surprised if that was so。 But
you'll have better company in New York than you did in some of
those places。 Give my regards to Fosdick。 So…long； Al。〃
CHAPTER XVI
The Fosdick car was at the Grand Central Station when the
Knickerbocker Limited pulled in。 And Madeline； a wonderfully
furred and veiled and hatted Madeline； was waiting there behind the
rail as he came up the runway from the train。 It was amazing the
fact that it was really she。 It was more amazing still to kiss her
there in public； to hold her hand without fear that some one might
see。 To
〃Shall I take your bags； sir？〃
It was the Fosdick footman who asked it。 Albert started guiltily。
Then he