"Carley, don't mind mother," said Flo. "She means your dress is lovely.

Which is my say, too.... But, listen. I just saw Glenn comin' up the

road."

Carley ran to the open door with more haste than dignity. She saw a tall

man striding along. Something about him appeared familiar. It was his

walk--an erect swift carriage, with a swing of the march still visible.

She recognized Glenn. And all within her seemed to become unstable. She

watched him cross the road, face the house. How changed! No--this was

not Glenn Kilbourne. This was a bronzed man, wide of shoulder, roughly

garbed, heavy limbed, quite different from the Glenn she remembered. He

mounted the porch steps. And Carley, still unseen herself, saw his face.

Yes--Glenn! Hot blood seemed to be tingling liberated in her veins.

Wheeling away, she backed against the wall behind the door and held up

a warning finger to Flo, who stood nearest. Strange and disturbing then,

to see something in Flo Hutter's eyes that could be read by a woman in

only one way!

A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted.

"Flo!--who--where?" he began, breathlessly.

His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley's

ears as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filled

out that she did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievably

changed--not in the regularity of feature that had been its chief charm,

but in contour of cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line.

Carley's heart swelled with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to see

the sad fixed hopelessness, the havoc, gone from his face. Therefore

the restraint and nonchalance upon which Carley prided herself sustained

eclipse.

"Glenn! Look--who's--here!" she called, in voice she could not

have steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she had

anticipated.

Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry. He saw Carley. Then--no matter

how unreasonable or exacting had been Carley's longings, they were

satisfied.

"You!" he cried, and leaped at her with radiant face.

Carley not only did not care about the spectators of this meeting, but

forgot them utterly. More than the joy of seeing Glenn, more than

the all-satisfying assurance to her woman's heart that she was still

beloved, welled up a deep, strange, profound something that shook her

to her depths. It was beyond selfishness. It was gratitude to God and to

the West that had restored him.

"Carley! I couldn't believe it was you," he declared, releasing her from

his close embrace, yet still holding her.




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