"_I_ would think it natural to run away and leave him, like Aleck and Scip did." Aunt Sajane cast a warning glance towards the two oarsmen. "Well, I would," insisted the girl. "I wonder no more of them ran away when they thought he was coming home. How he must have raved! _I_ shouldn't wonder if it prostrated him again. You know old Doctor Allison said it was just a fit of temper caused--" "Yes, yes, honey; but you know we are to sleep under his roof tonight." "I'll sleep under Gertrude's half of it," laughed the girl. "It's no use reminding me of my bad manners, Aunt Sajane. But as long as I can remember anyone, I've had two men in my mind. One always grunted at me and told me to take my doll somewhere else or be quiet. That was Kenneth's guardian, Matthew Loring. The other man always had sugar kisses in his pocket for me and gave me my first dog and my only pony. That was Judge Clarkson. You see if my judge had not been so lovely the other would not have seemed so forbidding. It was the contrast did it. I wonder--I wonder if he ever had a sweetheart?" "Gideon Clarkson? Lots of them," said his sister, promptly. "I meant Mr. Loring." "Nonsense, honey, nonsense." "And nonsense means no," decided the girl. "I thought it would be curious if he had," then an interval of silence, broken only by the dip of the oars. "Gertrude's note said a Paris doctor is with them, a friend of Kenneth and mama. Well, I only hope _he_ isn't a crusty old sweetheartless man. But of course he is if Mr. Loring chose him. I'm wild to know how they got through the blockade. Oh, dear, how I wish it was Ken!" "I don't suppose you wish it any more than the boy himself," said Aunt Sajane, with a sigh. "There's a good many boys scattered from home, these days, who would be glad to be home again." "But not unless they gain what they went for," declared the girl in patriotic protest. The older woman sighed, and said nothing. Her enthusiasms of a year ago had been shrouded by the crape of a mourning land; the glory of conquest would be compensation, perhaps, and would be gained, no doubt. But the price to be paid chilled her and left her without words when Evilena revelled in the glories of the future. "Loringwood line," said Pluto, motioning towards a great ditch leading straight back from the river. Evilena shrugged her shoulders with a little pretense of chill, and laughed. "That is only a reminder of what I used to feel when Gertrude's uncle came to our house. I wonder if this long dress will prevent him from grunting at me or ordering me out of the room if I talk too much." "Remember, Evilena, he has been an invalid for four years, and is excusable for almost any eccentricity." "How did you all excuse his eccentricities before he got sick, Aunt Sajane?"