; and she brought great baskets full from the park gardens, and a
costly Dresden vase, which Arthur had left for Jerrie when he went away,
together with his card and his photograph, and a note in which he had
written as follows:

'MY DEAR CHILD:--Welcome, welcome home again. I wish I could see you
when your blue eyes first look upon the room I came so near telling
you about. Maude would have killed me if I had. You have no idea how
Harold has worked to get it done, and where he got the money is more
than I know. Pinched himself, in every way, of course. He is a noble
fellow, Jerrie. But you know that. I saw it in your face at Vassar,
and saw something else, too, which you may think is a secret. Will
talk with you about it when I come home. I am off to-morrow for
California. Would like to take you with me. Maybe I shall meet with
robbers in the Yosemite. I'd rather like to. God bless you!

'ARTHUR TRACY.'

'Uncle Arthur was very queer the day he went away,' Maude said to
Harold, as she put the note, and the photograph, and the card upon the
dressing-bureau. 'I heard him talking to Gretchen, and saying,
"Gretchen, Gretchen, Jerrie will be here by-and-by, to keep you company
while I am gone--little Jerrie, when I first knew her, but a great tall
Jerrie now, with the air of a duchess. Yes, Jerrie is coming, Gretchen."
How he loves her--Jerrie, I mean; and I do not wonder, do you?'

Harold's mouth was full of tacks and he did not reply, but went steadily
on with his work until everything was done.

'Isn't it lovely, and won't she be pleased!' Maude kept saying, as she
gave the room a last look and then started for home, charging Harold to
be on time at the train, and to try and not look so tired.

Harold _was_ very tired, for the constant strain of the last few weeks
had told upon him, and he felt that he could not have gone on much
longer, and that only for Maude's constant enthusiasm and sympathy he
should have broken down before the task was done. It was not easy work,
shingling roofs and nailing down floors, and painting ceilings, and
every bone in his body ached, and his hands were calloused like a piece
of leather, and his face looked tired and pale when he at last sat down
to rest awhile before changing his working suit for one scarcely better,
although clean and fresher, with no daubs of paint or patches upon it.

'They don't look first-rate, that's a fact,' he said t