all in
one breath, her little pouted chin went up and she burst into a low
gurgle of utter enjoyment of the tableau.

"Well," she demanded, "aren't you ever going to say anything? Here I
am! I--I decided to move today--there really wasn't any use of
waiting. Aren't you surprised--just a little?"

The meekness of her voice, so wholly belied by her eyes and lips and
swaying boy-like body, only tightened the old man's mouth. He was
still reviewing all that long day's mental torment, counting the
wasted hours which might have been applied to a soul-satisfying feast
upon Morehouse's red-headlined account in the paper. No veteran had
ever marched more hopelessly into a cannon's mouth than he had
approached the door of that kitchen.

And yet a flood of thankfulness, the direct reflex of his first
impotent rage, threatened to sweep up and drown the fires of his
wrath. Already he wanted to slump down into a chair and rest weary
body and wearier, relieved brain; he wanted a minute or two in which
to realize that she was there--that his unfulfilled promise was still
far from being actual catastrophe--and he would not let himself. Not
yet!

She had been playing with him--playing with him cat-and-mouse fashion.
The birdlike features which had begun to relax hardened once more.

"Maybe I be," he answered her question with noncommittal grimness.
"Maybe I be--and maybe I ain't!" And then, almost belligerently: "Your
lamp's a-smokin'!"

She turned and strained on tiptoe and lowered it.

"I thought you would be," she agreed, too gravely for his complete
comfort, when she had accomplished the readjustment of the wick to her
entire satisfaction. "For, you know, you seemed a little worried
and--well, not just happy, yesterday, when I told you I was going to
move I--I felt sure you would be glad to find that I hadn't gone
far!"

Old Jerry remembered at that moment and he removed his soaked hat. He
turned, too, and drew up a chair. It gave him an opportunity to avoid
those moistly mirthful eyes for a moment. Seated and comfortably
tilted back against the wall he felt less ill at ease--felt better
able to deal with the situation as it should be dealt with.

For a moment her presence there had only confounded him--that was when
the wave of righteous wrath had swept him--but at the worst he had
counted it nothing more than a too far-fetched bit of fantastic
mischief conceived to tantalize him.

Her last statement awakened in him a