erest of Widewood's
industrial colonization. He bought his railroad ticket--returnable in
case any unforeseen----

"Oh, that's all right, President March: yes, sir; good-day, sir."

At his hotel shortly after noon he found a note. He guessed at its
contents. "She takes the same train I do." He forced himself to frown at
the amusing yet agreeable accident. But his guess was faulty; the note
read:

"I return immediately to Suez, where Jeff-Jack will arrive by the end of
the week."

And thereupon John had another feeling known to us all--the dull shame
with which we find that fate has defrauded us for our own good. However,
he hurried to Fannie and put himself into her service with a gay
imperiousness delightful to both and apparently amusing to the busy
Johanna. By and by the music-teacher helped also, making Fannie keep her
rocking-chair, and, as Mr. March came and went, dropped little
melodious, regretful things to him privately about his own departure.
Once she said that nothing gave her so much happiness as answering
pleasant letters; but John only wondered why women so often talk
obviously without any aim whatever!

"Well," at length he said to Fannie, "I'll go now and get myself off.
Your train starts from the same station mine does; I'll say good-by
there."

He packed his valise and hand-bag, and had given them to the porter,
when he received a letter.

"My George!" was his dismayed whisper to himself, "a duelist couldn't
be prompter." He walked to the door, gazing at the superscription.
"It feels like my letter sent back. Ah, well! that's just what it
ought to be. Confound the women, all; I wonder how it feels for a
man just to mind his own business and let them"--he rent the
envelope--"mind--theirs!"

He read the missive as he rode to the station. It wasn't very long, and
it did seem to him a bit too formal; and yet it was so gravely sweet
that he had to smooth the happiness off his face repeatedly, and finally
stole a private laugh behind the hand that twisted his small mustache,
as he fondly sighed.

"Doggone your considerate little soul, you're just a hundred ton nicer
and better than your father or anybody else is ever going to deserve!"
But he read on:

"For you remember, do you not? that I was free to speak of yours and
papa's ambitions and plans for Widewood? And so I enclose a page or two
of a letter just received from our Johanna at home, because it states
things about Colonel Proudfit's n