in the past he had
argued with her he had succeeded.

"I needed you to explain certain things to me," he replied.

She looked away from him.

"About what?" she asked quickly.

"About getting me married."

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

He could not tell what she meant by the little cry. He would have
asked her had they not at that moment turned into a gate that led
through an old-fashioned garden to a small white cottage.

"I'll have to run ahead and prepare Mrs. Halliday," she said.

So she left him upon the doorstep, and he took off his hat to the
cool, pine-laden breeze that came from a mountain in the distance. He
liked this town at once. He liked the elm-lined village street, and
the snug white houses and the quiet and content of it. Then he found
himself being introduced rather jerkily to Mrs. Halliday--a tall, thin
New England type, with kindly eyes set in a sharp face. It was evident
at once that after her first keen inspection of this stranger she was
willing to accept him with much less suspicion than Miss Winthrop.

"I told Sally this morning, when I spilled the sugar, that a stranger
was coming," she exclaimed. "Now you come right upstairs. I reckon
you'll want to wash up after that long ride."

"It's mighty good of you to take me in this way," he said.

"Laws sake, what's a spare room for?"

She led the way to a small room with white curtains at the windows and
rag rugs upon the floor and a big silk crazy-quilt on an old
four-poster bed. She hurried about and found soap and towels for him,
and left him with the hope that he would make himself at home.

And at once he did feel at home. He felt at home just because Sally
Winthrop was somewhere in the same house. That was the secret of it.
He had felt at home in the station as soon as she appeared; he had
felt at home in the village because she had walked by his side; and
now he felt at home here. And by that he meant that he felt very free
and very happy and very much a part of any section of the world she
might happen to be in. It had been so in New York, and it was so
here.

He was downstairs again in five minutes, looking for Sally Winthrop.
It seemed that Mrs. Halliday's chief concern now was about supper, and
that Sally was out in the kitchen helping her. He found that out by
walking in upon her and finding her in a blue gingham apron. Her
cheeks turned very red and she hurriedly removed the apron.

"Don't let me disturb you," he protested.