ly homeward.

CHAPTER XXVI

APRIL VISTAS

"Is it _possible_? _Is_ it possible!"

Colonel Ramsay's entrances were frequently a bit theatrical, and on a
particular afternoon in April, as he opened the door of Dan Harwood's
new office in the Law Building, the sight of Miss Farrell at the
typewriter moved him to characteristic demonstrations. Carefully closing
the door and advancing, hat in hand, with every appearance of deepest
humility, he gazed upon the young woman with a mockery of astonishment.

"Verily, it is possible," he solemnly ejaculated. "And what is it that
our own poet says:--

"'When she comes home again! A thousand ways
I fashion to myself the tenderness
Of my glad welcome: I shall tremble--yes--'"

"Stop trembling, Colonel, and try one of our new office chairs,
warranted to hold anybody but Brother Ike Pettit without fading away."

The Colonel bent over Miss Farrell's hand reverently and sat down.

"I've been trying to earn an honest living practicing law down at home
and this is the first chance I've had to come up and see what the late
lamented legislature left of the proud old Hoosier State. Is Dan locked
up inside there with some lucrative client?"

"I regret to say that I don't believe there's a cent in his present
caller."

"Hark!" At this moment a roar was heard from the inner room on which
"private" was printed in discreet letters. The Colonel was at once
alert.

"'Ask me no more; the moon may draw the sea'
But Isaac Pettit's jokes shall shake the land,--

with apologies to the late Laureate. So the boys are finding their way
up here, are they? I'll wait an hour or two till that compendium of
American humor has talked Dan to sleep. So you and Dan left your Uncle
Morton all alone in gloomy splendor in the Boordman Building!"

"Mr. Harwood made me an offer and I accepted it," replied Rose. "This is
a free country and a P.W.G. can work where she pleases, can't she?"

"P.W.G.?"

"Certainly, a poor working-girl"--Rose clasped her hands and bowed her
head--"if the initials fail to illuminate."

The Colonel inspected the room, and his eyes searched Miss Farrell's
desk.

"Let me see, I seem to miss something. It must be the literary offerings
that used to cluster about the scene of your labors. Your selections in
old times used to delight me. No one else of my acquaintance has quite
your feeling for romance. I always liked that one about the squ