ften than not, the momentous happenings in life come without
warning, and with no stage-setting to enhance the dramatic effect.
Certainly there was nothing in the announcement of the now too friendly
clerk that "she had a visitor who looked like new money," to
prognosticate that once Kate had crossed the threshold of the red-plush
parlor, her life would never be the same again.

It was Bowers, of course--she thought--Bowers come too late to take her
to the restaurant whose delectable "grub" was one of his boasted
memories of Omaha. Her conclusion was correct that Bowers was there,
wearing his new clothes like a disguise, his eyes shining with
eagerness. But it was not Bowers that Kate saw in the dim light as she
stepped through the doorway--it was the man who at intervals had been
strongly in her thoughts all day, for whom she had unconsciously kept a
lookout, impelled by an inexplicable desire to see him again and remove
that perplexing, haunting sense of having seen him somewhere before.

Kate felt herself trembling when the man arose from the sofa facing the
door. As if by divination she recognized some impending event of
importance to herself. He was no casual caller brought by idle
curiosity, she was sure of that.

There was in his eyes a tremendous hope, and a yearning tenderness in
his face which seemed to draw her into his arms. It required an effort
of will to remain passive as he approached.

Without explanation or apology, he put his hand under her chin and
raised it with all gentleness, studying meanwhile every lineament of her
face.

Kate watched the light of conviction grow in his eyes. Then she felt an
arm about her shoulder and herself being drawn close against her
father's heart as he exclaimed brokenly:

"My baby-girl, grown up! My _Kate_!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE SURPRISE OF MR. WENTZ'S LIFE

After an absence from Prouty of several weeks, Kate stepped off the
train alone one afternoon and furnished the town with the liveliest
sensation of its kind that it had known since the Toomeys had gone "on
East."

Through the cooperation of the telephone and of breathless ladies
dashing across lots and from house to house, the town, by night, had a
detailed description of the clothes which had altered Kate's appearance
beyond belief.

Mrs. Abram Pantin expressed the opinion that Kate's Alaskan-seal coat
which, in reality, represented the price of a goodly band of sheep, was
merely native musk