thing wrong here," he remarked, ominously, "I suspected it all
along."

The business of getting his book published dispatched, the poet's
thoughts turned lovingly toward Richmond which he still called "home,"
and carpet-bag in hand and a package of copies of his book which he
intended as presents to his old chums under his arm, he set out upon the
journey thither.

The streets of New York had been cold and bleak but he told himself as
he journeyed, that April days at home were quite different. The grass
would be already green upon the hillsides, many of the trees in leaf,
and the dear spring flowers in bloom. He pictured the ample comforts of
the Allan homestead, and of his own room in it, with its familiar
furnishings. Of course he had no idea of looking to Mr. Allan for
support--his pen must give him that now--but during the visit which he
was going to make "at home" it would be pleasant to sleep once more in
that room with all of its associations, though many of these were with
the blunders of a blinded youth.

As he thought of Mr. Allan and his last meeting with him, his heart
softened. He would try and keep their intercourse upon the friendly
basis upon which his last sad visit home had placed it; would as far as
possible, put himself in his foster-father's place and see things as he
saw them.

How desolate the widowed man had seemed in the big, empty house during
those chill, sorrow-stricken, February days! No wonder he had sought
escape from his desolation in another marriage--his loneliness without
the lovely little mother must have been unbearable. What was the new
wife like, he wondered? Was she like the lady of the manor he
remembered? Could there be another such gentle, tender, flower-like
woman on earth?

In his unworldly, unpractical dreamer's soul it did not occur to him for
one moment that her existence might make him any less Mr. Allan's
adopted son, or even that, with all the rooms in the big house at her
disposal, she might have taken a fancy to rearrange the one which, from
the time the house became Mr. Allan's property, had been "Eddie's room,"
and which had so long stood ready for his occupancy--dedicated as it was
to his own belongings.

* * * * *

At last he was on the sacred soil!

How fair and comfortable the old homestead looked in its setting of
greening lawn and flowering garden, with the pleasant sunshine of the
April afternoon over all! How cheerfu