for a long time and talked much,
it seemed to Albert that he had aged greatly since they last met. He
wandered a bit in his remarks and repeated himself several times.

"The poor old gentleman's failin' a good deal, Albert," said Mrs. Snow,
as they drove home together, he and his grandparents, three on the
seat of the buggy behind Jessamine. "His sermons are pretty tiresome
nowadays, but we put up with 'em because he's been with us so long. . . .
Ain't you squeezed 'most to death, Albert? You two big men and me all
mashed together on this narrow seat. It's lucky I'm small. Zelotes ought
to get a two-seated carriage, but he won't."

"Next thing I get, Mother," observed the captain, "will be an
automobile. I'll stick to the old mare here as long as she's able to
navigate, but when she has to be hauled out of commission I'm goin'
to buy a car. I believe I'm pretty nigh the last man in this county
to drive a horse, as 'tis. Makes me feel like what Sol Dadgett calls
a cracked teapot--a 'genuine antique.' One of these city women will be
collectin' me some of these days. Better look out, mother."

Olive sighed happily. "It does me good to hear you joke again,
Zelotes," she said. "He didn't joke much, Albert, while--when we thought
you--you--"

Albert interrupted in time to prevent the threatened shower.

"So Mr. Kendall is not well," he said. "I'm very sorry to hear it."

"Of course you would be. You and he used to be so friendly when Helen
was home. Oh, speakin' of Helen, she IS comin' home in a fortni't or
three weeks, so I hear. She's goin' to give up her teachin' and come
back to be company for her father. I suppose she realizes he needs her,
but it must be a big sacrifice for her, givin' up the good position
she's got now. She's such a smart girl and such a nice one. Why, she
came to see us after the news came--the bad news--and she was so kind
and so good. I don't know what we should have done without her. Zelotes
says so too, don't you, Zelotes?"

Her husband did not answer. Instead he said: "Well, there's home, Al.
Rachel's there ahead of us and dinner's on the way, judgin' by the smoke
from the kitchen chimney. How does the old place look to you, boy?"

Albert merely shook his head and drew a long breath, but his
grandparents seemed to be quite satisfied.

There were letters and telegrams awaiting him on the table in the
sitting-room. Two of the letters were postmarked from a town on the
Florida coast. The