m when he should return, he
could be content. So he relegated it with a resigned sigh, as he might
have done the memory of a dear, absent friend, to the time when he could
call it forth to some purpose.

It was well he could do this, for with the coming of Brace Kendall upon
the scene all romantic sensation was excluded as though by an icy-clear,
north wind. Brace was at the New York station--Brace with the armour of
familiarity and unbounded friendliness. "Old Top!" he called Truedale,
and shook hands with him so vigorously that the last remnant of thought
that clung to the distant mountains was freed from the present.

"Well, of all the miracles! Why, Con, I bet you tip the scales at a
hundred and sixty. And look at your paw! Why, it's callous and actually
horny! And the colour you've got! Lord, man! you're made over.

"You're to come to your uncle's house, Con. It's rather a shock, but we
got you as soon as we could. In the meantime, we've followed directions.
The will has not been read, of course, but there was a letter found in
your uncle's desk that commanded--that's the only word to express it,
really--Lynda and you and me to come to the old house right after the
funeral. We waited to hear from you, Con, but since you could not get
here we had to do the best we could. Dr. McPherson took charge."

"I was buried pretty deep in the woods, Ken, and there was a bad hitch
in the delivery of the telegram. Such things do not count down where I
was. But I'm glad about the old house--glad you and Lynda are there."

"Con!"--and at this Brace became serious--"I think we rather overdid our
estimate of your uncle. Since his--his going, we've seen him, Lyn and I,
in a new light. He was quite--well, quite a sentimentalist! But
see--here we are!"

"The house looks different already!" Conning said, leaning from the cab
window.

"Yes, Lyn's had a lot to do, but she's managed to make a home of the
place in the short time."

Lynda Kendall had heard the sound of wheels in the quiet street--had set
the door of welcome open herself, and now stood in the panel of light
with outstretched hands. Like a revelation Truedale seemed to take in
the whole picture at once. Behind the girl lay the warm, bright hall
that had always been so empty and drear in his boyhood. It was furnished
now. Already it had the look of having been lived in for years. There
were flowers in a tall jar on the table and a fire on the broad hearth.
And against