He scanned the faces of the people who began passing him. No, none of
them was Ruth. His picture of Ruth was clear, though he had not seen her
for eleven years. She would be looking about in that eager way--that
swift, bright way; when she saw him there would be that glad nodding of
her head, her face all lighting up. Though of course, he told himself,
she would be older, probably a little more--well, dignified. The romance
that secretly hung about Ruth for him made him picture her as unlike
other women; there would be something different about her, he felt.

The woman standing there half turned from him was oddly familiar. She
was someone he knew, and somehow she agitated him. He did not tell
himself that that was Ruth--but after seeing her he was not looking at
anyone else for Ruth. This woman was not "stylish looking." She did not
have the smart look of most of the girls of Ruth's old crowd. He had
told himself that Ruth would be older--and yet it was not a woman he had
pictured, or rather, it was a woman who had given all for love, not a
woman who looked as if she had done just the things of women. This woman
stooped a little; care, rather than romance, had put its mark upon her;
instead of the secretly expected glamour of those years of love there
had been a certain settling of time. He knew before he acknowledged it
that it was Ruth, knew it by the way this woman made him feel. He came
nearer; she had timidly--not with the expected old swiftness--started in
the direction he was coming. She saw him--knew him--and in that rush of
feeling which transformed her anything of secret disappointment was
swept from him.

He kissed her, as sheepishly as a brother would any sister, and was soon
covering his emotion with a practical request for her trunk check. But
as they walked away the boy's heart was strangely warmed. Ruth was back!

As to Ruth, she did not speak. She could not.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was the afternoon of Ruth Holland's return to Freeport that Edith
Lawrence--now Edith Lawrence Blair--was giving the tea for Deane
Franklin's bride and for Cora Albright, introducing Amy to the society
of the town and giving Cora another opportunity for meeting old friends.
"You see Cora was of our old crowd," Edith was laughingly saying to one
of the older women in introducing her two guests of honor, "and Amy has
married into it." She turned to Amy with a warm little smile and nod, as
if wanting to assure her ag