hospital,
dressed jest like all the nurses."

"Is--is she handsome?"

"Say, Ma, you let me hold them blankets. They're gittin' you all sagged
down. Why, she ain't what I'd say was _handsome_, but she sure got
pretty eyes and hair--and complexion--and the smoothest little hands--and
she's built right neat. She steps easy--like a thoroughbred filly--and
she's plumb sensible, jest like you folks."

This latter assurance did not seem to comfort Ma Bailey as much as the
implied compliment might intimate.

"And there's only one other woman I ever saw that made me feel right to
home and kind o' glad to have her round, like her. And she's got gray
eyes and the same kind of hair, and--"

"Sakes alive, Pete Annersley! Another?"

"Uh-huh. And I'm kissin' her good-night--right now." And Pete grabbed
the blankets and as much of Ma Bailey as could be included in that large
armful, and kissed her heartily.

"He's changed," Ma Bailey confided to herself, after Pete had
disappeared. "Actin' like a boy--to cheer me up. But it weren't no boy
that set there readin' that letter. It was a growed man, and no wonder.
Yes, Pete's changed, bless his heart!"

Ma Bailey did not bless Pete's heart because he had changed, however, nor
because he had suffered, nor yet because he was unconsciously in love
with a little nurse in El Paso, nor yet because he kissed her, but
because she liked him: and because no amount of money or misfortune,
blame or praise, could really change him toward his friends. What Ma
Bailey meant was that he had grown a little more serious, a little more
gentle in his manner of addressing her--aside from saying good-night--and
a little more intense in a quiet way. To sum it all up, Pete had just
begun to think--something that few people do on the verdant side of
forty, and rather dread having to do on the other side of that mile-post.

A week later, as they sat at table asking one another whether Ma Bailey
had took to makin' pies ag'in jest for practice or for Pete, and plaguing
that good woman considerably with their good-natured banter, it occurred
to Bill Haskins to ask Pete if he were going to become a permanent member
of the family or if he were simply visiting; only Bill said, "Are you
aimin' to throw in with us--or are you goin' to curl your tail and drift,
when the snow flies?"

"I reckon I'll drift," said Pete.

This was news. Andy White demurred forcibly. Bailey himself seemed
surprised, and