had to turn back to civilization. He fell
and hurt his spine and we had to carry him to the nearest village, two
hundred miles, in a litter. Naturally that broke up the expedition, and
when he became better we decided to sail for home. Reached New York City
last week. I telegraphed Aunt Rose, and she wired me to meet her in
Overton. I came in on that 5.30 train. Of course I was anxious to see
you, so Aunt Rose told me to run along ahead. She'll be here in a
little while."

Once seated opposite each other in the little office, an awkward silence
fell upon the two young people.

"I am so glad nothing dreadful happened to you, Tom." Grace at last
broke the silence. "Those expeditions are very hazardous. I thought of
you often and wondered if you were well." There was a wistful note in
her voice of which she was utterly unconscious, but it was not lost on
Tom.

"Grace," he said tensely, "did you really miss me?" He leaned forward,
his face very close to hers. His eager eyes forced the truth.

"More than I can say, Tom," she answered in a low tone.

Tom caught her hands in his. She did not draw them away. "How much does
that mean, Grace? I know I vowed never to open the subject to you again,
but I never saw that look in your eyes before, and you never let me hold
your hands like this. Which is to be, dear; work or love?"

"Love," was the half-whispered answer. And the gate of happiness, so
long barred to Tom Gray, was opened wide.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BOND ETERNAL

The full moon shone down with its broadest smile on the group of young
people who occupied Mrs. Gray's roomy, old-fashioned veranda. As on
another June night that belonged to the past, Mrs. Gray's Christmas
children had gathered home.

"We're here because we're here," caroled Hippy Wingate. "But allow me to
make one observation."

"_One_," jeered Reddy Brooks. "You mean one hundred."

"That's very unkind in you, Reddy," returned Hippy in a grieved tone.
"Just to show you how entirely off the track you are I will make that
_one_ observation and subside."

"I didn't know you had such a word as 'subside' in your vocabulary,"
derided David Nesbit.

"Nora, where art thou? Thy husband is calling," wailed Hippy.

"I would hardly call that an observation," laughed Grace.

"It sounds more like an anguished appeal for help," remarked Anne.

"Or a perpetration by a deaf man who hasn't the leas