udge of
change. It is for the one who goes and returns after many years."

There was a faint hint of proud sadness in Eudora's voice as she spoke
the last two words.

"It has been many years," said Lawton, gravely, "and I wonder if it has
seemed so to you."

Eudora held her head proudly. "Time passes swiftly," said she, tritely.

"But sometimes it may seem long in the passing, however swift," said
Lawton, "though I suppose it has not to you. You look just the same," he
added, regarding her admiringly.

Eudora flushed a little. "I must be changed," she murmured.

"Not a bit. I would have known you anywhere. But I--"

"I knew you the minute you spoke."

"Did you?" he asked, eagerly. "I was afraid I had grown so stout you
would not remember me at all. Queer how a man will grow stout. I am not
such a big eater, either, and I have worked hard, and--well, I might
have been worse off, but I must say I have seen men who seemed to me
happier, though I have made the best of things. I always did despise a
flunk. But you! I heard you had adopted a baby," he said, with a sudden
glance at the blue and white bundle in the carriage, "and I thought
you were mighty sensible. When people grow old they want young people
growing around them, staffs for old age, you know, and all that sort of
thing. Don't know but I should have adopted a boy myself if it hadn't
been for--"

The man stopped, and his face was pink. Eudora turned her face slightly
away.

"By the way," said the man, in a suddenly hushed voice, "I suppose the
kid you've got there is asleep. Wouldn't do to wake him?"

"I think I had better not," replied Eudora, in a hesitating voice. She
began to walk along, and Harry Lawton fell into step beside her.

"I suppose it isn't best to wake up babies; makes them cross, and they
cry," he said. "Say, Eudora, is he much trouble?"

"Very little," replied Eudora, still in that strange voice.

"Doesn't keep you awake nights?"

"Oh no."

"Because if he does, I really think you should have a nurse. I don't
think you ought to lose sleep taking care of him."

"I do not."

"Well, I was mighty glad when I heard you had adopted him. I suppose
you made sure about his parentage, where he hailed from and what sort of
people?"

"Oh yes." Eudora was very pale.

"That's right. Maybe some time you will tell me all about it. I am
coming over Thursday to have a look at the youngster. I have to go to
the city on business to-morrow a