e he took a
turn toward the house. It really was ridiculous that they should keep
dinner waiting this way. He took one more turn and began to think over
the sermon he had decided to preach. He was just recalling a
particularly eloquent passage when he happened to look down the road
once more, and there they were, almost upon him! But Bud was no longer
walking with the maiden. She had acquired a new escort, a man of broad
shoulders and fine height. Where had he seen that fellow before? He
watched them as they came up, his small, pale eyes narrowing under their
yellow lashes with a glint of slyness, like some mean little animal that
meant to take advantage of its prey. It was wonderful how many different
things that man could look like for a person as insignificant as he
really was!

Well, he saw the look between the man and maiden; the look of sympathy
and admiration and a fine kind of trust that is not founded on mere
outward show, but has found some hidden fineness of the soul. Not that
the reverend gentleman understood that, however. He had no fineness of
soul himself. His mind had been too thoroughly taken up with himself all
his life for him to have cultivated any.

Simultaneous with the look came his recognition of the man or, at least,
of where he had last seen him, and his little soul rejoiced at the
advantage he instantly recognized.

He drew himself up importantly, flattened his chin upward until his
lower lip protruded in a pink roll across his mouth, drew down his
yellow brows in a frown of displeasure, and came forward mentor-like to
meet the little party as it neared the house. He had the air of coming
to investigate and possibly oust the stranger, and he looked at him
keenly, critically, offensively, as if he had the right to protect the
lady. They might have been a pair of naughty children come back from a
forbidden frolic, from the way he surveyed them. But the beauty of it
was that neither of them saw him, being occupied with each other, until
they were fairly upon him. Then, there he stood offensively, as if he
were a great power to be reckoned with.

"Well, well, well, Miss Margaret, you have got home at last!" he said,
pompously and condescendingly, and then he looked into the eyes of her
companion as if demanding an explanation of _his_ presence there.

Margaret drew herself up haughtily. His use of her Christian name in
that familiar tone annoyed her exceedingly. Her eyes flashed
indignantly,