l growth of beard who emerged from the
train at the Grand Central Station, the carefully dressed, well groomed
Kenneth Traynor who, only a few months before, had sailed away from New
York on the _Mauretania_.

The noise and turmoil of the big metropolis, in striking contrast to
the quiet and seclusion of the sick room in which he had lived for so
many weeks, astonished him. The crowds of suburbanites rushing
frantically for trains, elbowing and pushing in their anxiety to get
home, the strident hoarse cries of newsboys, the warning shouts of
wagon drivers as they drove recklessly here and there at murderous
speed, the blowing of auto horns, the ceaseless hum and roar of the big
city's heavy traffic--all this bewildered and dazed him. At first he
did not remember just in what direction to turn, whether he lived in
the East or West side, uptown or down. But as he got more accustomed
to his surroundings, it all came back to him. How stupid--of course he
had to go downtown to 20th Street. Once more he was himself again.
Hailing a taxi, he started for Gramercy Park.

Conflicting emotions stirred his breast as he drew near his home. What
joy it would be to clasp Helen once more in his arms. How delighted
she would be to see him! Then he was filled with anxiety, a sudden
feeling of dread came over him. Suppose some misfortune, some calamity
had happened during his absence! Helen might have met with some
accident. Baby might have been ill. The worst might have happened.
He would never have heard. Perhaps he was only going home to find his
happiness wrecked forever.

The driver made his way with difficulty down Fifth Avenue, threading
his way in and out the entanglement of carriages and automobiles,
until, after a ten minutes' run, turned into Gramercy Park and pulled
up short on the curb of the Traynor residence.

Eagerly Kenneth put his head out of the window and scanned the windows
for a glimpse of the loved one, but no one, not even a servant, was
visible. The house looked deserted. His misgivings returned.
Stepping out hastily, he paid the driver, and, running up the steps,
rang the bell.

Roberts, the faithful old butler, who had been in the family service
for years, came to open. Seeing a rather shabbily attired person
outside, he held the door partly closed and demanded, suspiciously:

"Who is it you wish to see?"

Irritated at the manner of his reception, Kenneth gave the door a push
that nearly