he first time
since they got the car to hear its pleasant purr as it came down the
road, and the big head-lights sent their rays out cheerfully without any
one at the kitchen window to see. Father was getting worried that the
kitchen door didn't fly open as he drew in beside the big flag-stone,
when Mother suddenly came flying out with her face all smiles and
eagerness. He hadn't seen her look that way since Stephen went away.

She had left a trail of letter all the way from her big chair to the
door, and she held the envelope in her hand. She rushed out and buried
her face in his rough coat-collar:

"Oh, Father! I've been so worried about you!" she declared, joyfully,
but she didn't look worried a bit.

Father looked down at her tenderly and patted her plump shoulder. "Had a
flat tire and had to stop, and get her pumped up," he explained, "and
then the man found a place wanted patching. He took a little longer than
I expected. I was afraid you would worry."

"Well, hurry in," she said, eagerly. "Supper's all ready and I've got a
letter to read to you."

It went without saying that if Mother liked a thing in that home Father
would, too. His sun rose and set in Mother, and they had lived together
so long and harmoniously that the thoughts of one were the reflection of
the other. It didn't matter which, you asked about a thing, you were
sure to get the same opinion as if you had asked the other. It wasn't
that one gave way to the other; it was just that they had the same
habits of thought and decision, the same principles to go by. So when,
after she had passed the hot johnny-cake, seen to it that Father had the
biggest pork chop and the mealiest potato, and given him his cup of
coffee creamed and sugared just right, Mother got out the letter with
the university crest and began to read. She had no fears that Father
would not agree with her about it. She read eagerly, sure of his
sympathy in her pleasure; sure he would think it was nice of Stephen's
friend to write to her and pick her out as a real mother, saying all
those pleasant things about her; sure he would be proud that she, with
all the women they had in the East, should have so brought up a boy that
a stranger knew she was a real mother. She had no fear that Father would
frown and declare they couldn't be bothered with a stranger around, that
it would cost a lot and Mother needed to rest. She knew he would be
touched at once with the poor, lonely girl's posit