but the chivalry of childhood
forbade tale-telling and he learned very little. "He was rather tired and
cold, so I made him go to his room and rest."

"Poor child!" said Aunt Ann.

James Penhallow looked at Leila. Some manner of signals were
interchanged. "I saw Billy digging in the big drift," he said. "I trust
he found the young gentleman's cane." Some pitying, dim comprehension of
the delicately nurtured lad had brought to the social surface the
kindliness of the girl and she said no more.

"It is time to dress for dinner," said Ann. Away from the usages of the
city she had wisely insisted on keeping up the social forms which the
Squire would at times have been glad to disregard. For a moment Ann
Penhallow lingered. "We must try to make him feel at home, James."

"Of course, my dear. I can imagine how Susan Penhallow would have
educated a boy, and now I know quite too well what we shall have to
undo--and--do."

"You won't, oh! you will not be too hard on him."

"I--no, my dear--but--I suspect his American education has begun
already."

"What do you mean?"

"Ask Leila--and Billy. But that can wait." They separated.

While his elders were thus briefly discussing this new addition to the
responsibilities of their busy lives, the subject of their talk had been
warmed into comfortable repossession of his self-esteem. He set in order
his elaborate silver toilet things marked with the Penhallow crest, saw
in the glass that his dress and unboylike length of curly hair were as he
had been taught they should be; then he looked at his watch and went
slowly downstairs.

"Halloa! John," he heard as he reached the last turn of the stairs. "Most
glad to see you. You are very welcome to your new home." The man who
hailed him was six feet two inches, deep-chested, erect--the West Point
figure; the face clean-shaven, ruddy, hazel-eyed, was radiant with the
honest feeling of desire to put this childlike boy at ease.

The little gentleman needed no aid and replied, "My dear uncle, I cannot
sufficiently thank you." A little bow went with his words, and he
placidly accepted his aunt's embrace, while the hearty Miss Leila looked
on in silence. The boy's black suit, the short jacket, the neat black
tie, made the paleness of his thin large-featured face too obvious. Then
Leila took note of the court shoes and silk socks, and looked at Uncle
Jim to see what he thought. The Squire reserved what criticism he may
have had and asked