S

The clarion call of Mrs. Halliday's big red rooster announcing
fervently his discovery of a thin streak of silver light in the east
brought Don to his elbow with a start. For a moment he could not place
himself, and then, as he realized where he was and what this day meant
for him, he took a long deep breath.

"In the morning," she had said.

Technically it was now morning, though his watch informed him that it
was not yet five. By now, then, she had made her decision. Somewhere
in this old house, perhaps within sound of his voice, she was waiting
with the verdict that was to decide whether he was going back to New
York the happiest or the unhappiest man in all Christendom. No, that
was not quite right either. Even if she said "No" that would not
decide it. It would mean only another day of waiting, because he was
going to keep right on trying to make her understand--day after day,
all summer and next winter and the next summer if necessary. He was
going to do that because, if he ever let go of this hope, then he
would be letting go of everything.

He found it quite impossible to sleep again and equally impossible to
lie there awake. Jumping from bed he dressed, shaved, and went
downstairs, giving Mrs. Halliday the start of her life when he came
upon her as she was kindling the kitchen fire.

"Land sakes alive," she gasped, "I didn't expect to see you for a
couple hours."

"I know it's early," he answered uncomfortably; "I don't suppose Sally
is up?"

Mrs. Halliday touched a match to the kindling and put the stove covers
back in place.

"There isn't anything lazy about Sally, but she generally does wait
until the sun is up," she returned.

She filled the teakettle and then, adjusting her glasses, took a more
critical look at Don.

"Wasn't ye warm enough last night?" she demanded.

"Plenty, thank you," he answered.

"Perhaps bein' in new surroundings bothered you," she suggested; "I
can't ever sleep myself till I git used to a place."

"I slept like a log," he assured her.

"Is this the time ye ginerally git up in New York?"

"Not quite as early as this," he admitted. "But, you see, that
rooster--"

"I see," she nodded. "And ye kind of hoped it might wake up Sally
too?"

"I took a chance," he smiled.

"Well, now, as long as ye seem so anxious I'll tell ye something;
maybe it did. Anyhow, I heard her movin' round afore I came down. Draw
a chair up to the stove and make yourself comfortable."