ot. That was clumsy on my part. What I meant was
that--well, it seems ages, centuries, since we were together there on
the Cape--and yet you have not changed."

She regarded him reflectively.

"You have," she said.

"Have what?"

"Changed. You have changed a good deal. I don't know whether I like it
or not. Perhaps I shall be more certain by and by. Now show me your war
cross. At least you have brought that, even if you haven't brought your
uniform."

He had the cross in his pocket-book and he showed it to her. She
enthused over it, of course, and wished he might wear it even when in
citizen's clothes. She didn't see why he couldn't. And it was SUCH
a pity he could not be in uniform. Captain Blanchard had called
the evening before, to see Mother about some war charities she was
interested in, and he was still in uniform and wearing his decorations,
too. Albert suggested that probably Blanchard was still in service.
Yes, she believed he was, but she could not see why that should make the
difference. Albert had BEEN in service.

He laughed at this and attempted to explain. She seemed to resent the
attempt or the tone.

"I do wish," she said almost pettishly, "that you wouldn't be so
superior."

He was surprised. "Superior!" he repeated. "Superior! I? Superiority is
the very least of my feelings. I--superior! That's a joke."

And, oddly enough, she resented that even more. "Why is it a joke?" she
demanded. "I should think you had the right to feel superior to almost
any one. A hero--and a genius! You ARE superior."

However, the little flurry was but momentary, and she was all sweetness
and smiles when she kissed him good night. He was shown to his room by
a servant and amid its array of comforts--to him, fresh from France
and the camp and his old room at South Harniss, it was luxuriously
magnificent--he sat for some time thinking. His thoughts should have
been happy ones, yet they were not entirely so. This is a curiously
unsatisfactory world, sometimes.

The next day he went shopping. Fosdick had given him a card to his own
tailor and Madeline had given him the names of several shops where, so
she declared, he could buy the right sort of ties and things. From the
tailor's Albert emerged looking a trifle dazed; after a visit to two of
the shops the dazed expression was even more pronounced. His next
visits were at establishments farther downtown and not as exclusive.
He returned to the Fosdick home feeling