wn by this time, if he had
lived--a lad not far from the age of this Billy who was coming to-day,
reflected the man. And the warmth in his heart deepened and glowed the
more as he stood waiting at the gate for Billy to arrive.

The train from Hampden Falls was late. Not until quite fifteen minutes
past five did it roll into the train-shed. Then at once its long line of
passengers began to sweep toward the iron gate.

William was just inside the gate now, anxiously scanning every face and
form that passed. There were many half-grown lads, but there was not one
with a pink in his buttonhole until very near the end. Then William saw
him--a pleasant-faced, blue-eyed boy in a neat gray suit. With a low cry
William started forward; but he saw at once that the gray-clad youth was
unmistakably one of a merry family party. He looked to be anything but a
lad that was lonely and forlorn.

William hesitated and fell back. This debonair, self-reliant fellow
could not be Billy! But as a hasty glance down the line revealed only
half a dozen straggling women, and beyond them, no one, William decided
that it must be Billy; and taking brave hold of his courage, he hurried
after the blue-eyed youth and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Er--aren't you Billy?" he stammered.

The lad stopped and stared. He shook his head slowly.

"No, sir," he said.

"But you must be! Are you sure?"

The boy laughed this time.

"Sorry, sir, but my name is 'Frank'; isn't it, mother?" he added
merrily, turning to the lady at his side, who was regarding William very
unfavorably through a pair of gold-bowed spectacles.

William did not wait for more. With a stammered apology and a flustered
lifting of his hat he backed away.

But where was Billy?

William looked about him in helpless dismay. All around was a wide,
empty space. The long aisle to the Hampden Falls train was deserted
save for the baggage-men loading the trunks and bags on to their trucks.
Nowhere was there any one who seemed forlorn or ill at ease except a
pretty girl with a suit-case, and with a covered basket on her arm, who
stood just outside the gate, gazing a little nervously about her.

William looked twice at this girl. First, because the splash of color
against her brown coat had called his attention to the fact that she was
wearing a pink; and secondly because she was very pretty, and her dark
eyes carried a peculiarly wistful appeal.

"Too bad Bertram isn't here," thought Wil