He did not re-read this letter, but as he picked it up and placed
it back in his breast pocket along with the others a look of dejected
weariness settled heavily on his face. He forgot all those who were
watching him; forgot the urgent present, as a pair of wonderful
wine-brown eyes swam before him. Dishes jingled at his elbow; his dinner
was being served. He must eat quickly and go. He must behave well, and
let the people look as long as they wished, for they were to be his
people now, and his home was to be among them. In time he was to be the
family doctor for many of them.

But the grip of a past such as held him now was not the palsied touch of
age. It was the strong-handed hold of vigorous youth, which tightens the
more as we make resistance. Glenning shook back the straight black
locks which had fallen upon his forehead, and the melancholy of his eyes
became a shadow of living pain. A lassitude was upon him, weighting his
spirit, leaden-like. He ate perfunctorily, choosing no dish above
another, taking always the one closest to hand. He was not aware of the
obsequious attentions of the waiter who stood proudly behind his chair,
with mouth set in a perpetual grin. He did not hear the purring
questions this worthy asked. Sometimes it was this way with him. He had
fought a battle from which gods would have shrunk, and had come out
clean. But the price! Sometimes he wondered, in bitterness, if it had
been worth while, and then later, when quiet came, and he felt an awed
sweetness stealing upon his soul, he was glad.

By force of will alone he brought his mind back to the hour before him.
Then, hurriedly making an end of his dinner, he went to his room for a
light cane, found and descended the parlor stairs to avoid the office
and the loungers there, and started up street.

The appearance of any stranger in a town the size of Macon is always
remarked. Little wonder then that John Glenning found himself, as it
were, on dress parade. When he had run the gantlet of one block, which
happened to be the one upon which most of the business houses were
located, he turned to the right, to allay any suspicions as to his
ultimate destination. He would make a detour, and come back to main
street further on. The first corner which he approached was occupied by
a small, weather-beaten, one-story frame house, setting slightly back in
a yard poorly kept, wherein a few straggling rose bushes strove for
existence. Entering the front