eping through the doorway. "There's Dan come home from
the war, and when he gets back from the mill he just sits and stares
ahead of him. He won't even talk about the war, although he's got a lot
to tell."

"It takes some time for the men who were over to get settled down again,
you know."

"Well, there's Edith," continued the querulous voice. "You'd think the
cat had got her tongue, too. I tell you, Mr. Cameron, there are meals
here when if I didn't talk there wouldn't be a word spoken."

Mr. Cameron looked up. It had occurred to him lately, not precisely that
a cat had got away with Edith's tongue, but that something undeniably
had got away with her cheerfulness. There were entire days in the store
when she neglected to manicure her nails, and stood looking out past the
fading primrose in the window to the street. But there were no longer
any shrewd comments on the passers-by.

"Of course, the house isn't very cheerful," sighed Mrs. Boyd. "I'm a
sick woman, Mr. Cameron. My back hurts most of the time. It just aches
and aches."

"I know," said Mr. Cameron. "My mother has that, sometimes. If you like
I'll mix you up some liniment, and Miss Edith can bring it to you."

"Thanks. I've tried most everything. Edith wants to rent a room, so we
can keep a hired girl, but it's hard to get a girl. They want all the
money on earth, and they eat something awful. That's a nice friendly dog
of yours, Mr. Cameron."

It was perhaps Jinx who decided Willy Cameron. Jinx was at that moment
occupying the only upholstered chair, but he had developed a strong
liking for the frail little lady with the querulous voice and the shabby
black dress. He had, indeed, insisted shortly after his entrance
on leaping into her lap, and had thus sat for some time, completely
eclipsing his hostess.

"Just let him sit," Mrs. Boyd said placidly. "I like a dog. And he can't
hurt this skirt I've got on. It's on its last legs."

With which bit of unconscious humor Willy Cameron had sat down.
Something warm and kindly glowed in his heart. He felt that dogs have a
curious instinct for knowing what lies concealed in the human heart, and
that Jinx had discovered something worth while in Edith's mother.

It was later in the evening, however, that he said, over Edith's bakery
cakes and her atrocious coffee:

"If you really mean that about a roomer, I know of one." He glanced at
Edith. "Very neat. Careful with matches. Hard to get up in the morning,
but