It was soon time to walk down "homeward," as we had learned to think of Newhall's rooms on Royal Street. Harrod and I led the way. Major Williams followed, escorting Pauline. Kitty and Turpin silently took their places in the rear, and before we had gone three squares they were out of sight behind. At the steps the major said his farewells, with many a hope that we might all meet again in our wanderings. "Say good-by to Miss Carrington for me," he added, with a smile half sad, half mischievous. "I fear poor Turpin leaves his heart here. Tell him for me to take his time; he won't be needed for an hour yet." And with a wave of his hand the soldierly fellow strode down the street. Then, even as we stood there, Turpin and Kitty arrived. With her first glance at them Pauline's sympathetic heart seemed to realize the situation. She signalled to us to follow her, and entered at once. Unaccustomed as ever to the interpretation of feminine signals, I blunderingly stayed where I was, and Harrod hovered irresolutely in the doorway. "Won't you come in?" we heard her say timidly, almost pleadingly, as she held out her little hand. "No, thank you, not this time; I must catch Williams. Say good-by for me, please." He grasped her hand, and seemed to wring it hard an instant, then, pulling his cap down over his eyes, dashed away. Kitty stood one moment looking sorrowfully after him, then slowly passed us, and went in without a word. She did not appear again that evening so long as I was there. Early next morning a note reached me from Harrod. A telegram had just reached him from Sandbrook. "Father says he will be here to-morrow. Mrs. Amory--Frank's mother--coming on same train." And, leaving everything undone that I ought to have done at the office, I hastened up to Amory's lodgings to see what that might mean. He was sitting up, partially dressed, and would be glad to see me, said the orderly; and, stumbling up the stairs, I was shown to his room. Very pale and rather thin looked our Mars, but his face was brighter and his eyes far clearer. He was far from strong, however, and apologized for not rising, as he held out his hand. "Mother is coming," were almost his first words. "So I heard. Judge Summers telegraphed Colonel Harrod that he would be here to-morrow,--at noon, I suppose,--and that Mrs. Amory was on the train. What a very pleasant surprise for all!" "Yes. When she heard from me how ill Vinton was, and that I could not get away, the little mother must have made up her mind to come to me. It is a surprise, yet a very glad one. Where can we put her? This house is no place, and yet, it may be two or three days before I can get out, and I hate to have her alone at the St. Charles." "Why not with the Summers' at Colonel Newhall's place? There are one or two rooms vacant, and the landlady seems very pleasant." Mars flushed to the temples.