he pinioned her lightly. "Good child," he
continued approvingly, "I shall tell the mater you do her credit."

"Yes, I am quite well, and quite rested; and oh, Malcolm, I am so glad
to see you again!" Then he smiled at her kindly, and they went upstairs
hand in hand. Mrs. Herrick, hearing their voices, came out on the
landing to greet her son. Her manner was more than usually affectionate.

"My dear boy," she said, "what an age it is since we saw you! It is
more than a fortnight since you even wrote. When did you come back to
town?"

Malcolm had dreaded this question, but he was compelled to answer it
truthfully.

"About ten days ago," he returned coolly; he knew his mother never
tolerated excuses.

"Ten days, and you have never been near us!" Then her tone changed.
"Have you been ill, Malcolm?" and she regarded him with undisguised
anxiety.

"Anna asked me the same question," he replied, impatiently. "I have
only been out of sorts, as I tell her--rather off my feed and that kind
of thing." Then Mrs. Herrick said no more on that subject, but as they
sat at dinner the keen gray eyes were often fixed on his face. Malcolm
did his part manfully: he talked and questioned Anna about her doings;
he would not brook an instant's silence. Anna must tell him this and
that about her water-party and the picnic, and those wonderful people
who tried to force an acquaintance on them; he would not let her off,
though more than once the girl looked wistfully at him. Why did he not
tell them about Staplegrove? He had not once mentioned the Wood House
and the Templetons. Was anything wrong with him? He did not look
himself; and she had never before noticed those lines on his forehead.
He looked different somehow in these two months. When he went on to the
balcony to smoke his cigarette she followed, and stood silently beside
him, until he turned and saw her anxious face.

"Well, Annachen," one of his pet names for her, "what is it, little
woman?" Then her soft hand smoothed his coat-sleeve.

"Malcolm dear, I don't like to ask, but I am sure something has gone
wrong between you and your friends at the Wood House; you have not once
mentioned their name, and there is such a sad, sad look in your eyes."

Malcolm took the girl's slender wrists and held them firmly.

"Anna, you are my dear little sister, are you not?"

"Oh yes," in a shrinking voice, for he was evidently waiting for an
answer.

"A faithful little sister, who will n