“Must be almost as disappointing as to get all ready for dinner and then not have any,” said the soldier affably. Miss Marilla smiled wistfully. “I suppose your name doesn’t happen to be Richard, does it?” she asked with that childish appeal in her eyes that had always kept her a young woman and good company for Mary Amber, even though her hair had long been gray. “Might just as well be that as anything else,” he responded, affably, willing to drop into whatever rôle was set for him in this most unexpected byplay. “And you wouldn’t mind if I should call you Dick?” she asked with a wistful look in her blue eyes. “Like nothing better,” he assented glibly, and found his own heart warming to this confiding stranger lady. “That’s beautiful of you!” She put out a shy hand, and laid it lightly on the edge of his cuff. “You don’t know how much obliged I am. You see, Mary Amber hasn’t ever quite believed he was coming--Dick, I mean--and she’s been so kind, and helped me get the dinner and all. I just couldn’t bear to tell her he wasn’t coming.” The young soldier stopped short in the middle of the road, and whistled. “Horrors!” he exclaimed in dismay “Are there other guests? Who is Mary Amber?” “Why, she’s just my neighbor, who played with you--I mean with Dick when he was here visiting as a child a good many years ago. I’m afraid he wasn’t always as polite to her then as a boy ought to be to a little girl; and--well, she’s never liked him very well. I was afraid she would say, ‘I told you so’ if she thought he didn’t come. It won’t be necessary for me to tell any lies, you know. I’ll just say, ‘Dick, this is Mary Amber; I suppose you don’t remember her,’ and that’ll be all. You don’t mind, do you? It won’t take long to eat dinner.” “But I’m a terrible mess to meet a girl!” he exclaimed uneasily, looking down deprecatingly at himself. “I thought it was just you. This uniform’s three sizes too large, and needs a drink. Besides,” he passed a speculative hand over his smoothly shaven chin, “I--don’t _care_ for girls!” There was a deep frown between his eyes, and the bitter look had come back on his face. Miss Marilla thought he looked as if he might be going to run away. “Oh, that’s all right!” said Miss Marilla anxiously. “Neither does Mary Amber like men. She says they’re all a selfish conceited lot. You needn’t have much to do with her. Just eat your dinner and tell anything you want to about the war. We won’t bother you to talk much. Come; this is the house, and the turkey must be on the table getting cold by now.” She swung open the gate, and laid a persuasive hand on the shabby sleeve; and the young man reluctantly followed her up the path to the front door. CHAPTER II