own the walk. The lawyer watched him
in amazement. Then a slow smile overspread his face.

"Captain," he called. "Captain Whittaker."

Captain Cy looked back over his shoulder. "What do you want?" he asked.

Mr. Peabody's face was now intensely solemn, but there was a twinkle in
his eye.

"I think she's at the boarding house," he said demurely. "I'm pretty
certain you'll find her there."

All the regulars at the perfect boarding house had, of course, attended
the reception at the Cy Whittaker place. None of them, with the
exception of the schoolmistress, had as yet returned. Dinner had been
forgotten in the excitement of the great day, and Keturah and Angeline
and Mrs. Tripp had stopped in at various dwellings along the main road,
to compare notes on the captain's appearance and the Atkins address.
Asaph and Bailey and Alpheus Smalley were at Simmons's.

Captain Cy knew better than to attempt his hurried trip by way of the
road. He had no desire to be held up and congratulated. He went across
lots, in the rear of barns and orchards, wading through drifts and
climbing fences as no sane convalescent should. But the captain at that
moment was suffering from the form of insanity known as the fixed idea.
She had done all this for him--for HIM. And his last message to her had
been an insult.

He approached the Bangs property by the stable lane. No one locks doors
in our village, and those of the perfect boarding house were unfastened.
He entered by way of the side porch, just as he had done when Gabe
Lumley's depot wagon first deposited him in that yard. But now he
entered on tiptoe. The dining room was empty. He peeped into the sitting
room. There, by the center table, sat Phoebe Dawes, her elbow on the arm
of her chair, and her head resting on her hand.

"Ahem! Phoebe!" said Captain Cy.

She started, turned, and saw him standing there. Her eyes were wet, and
there was a handkerchief in her lap.

"Phoebe," said the captain anxiously, "have you been cryin'?"

She rose on the instant. A great wave of red swept over her face. The
handkerchief fell to the floor, and she stooped and picked it up.

"Crying?" she repeated confusedly. "Why, no, of course--of course not!
I--How do you do, Captain Whittaker? I'm--we're all very glad to see you
home again--and well."

She extended her hand. Captain Cy reached forward to take it; then he
hesitated.

"I don't think I'd ought to let you shake hands with me, Phoebe," he
s