After all, it was Peg who had the word. If Peg were satisfied that this man should henceforth be her protector, then he would simply back off the stage. He would hate to do anything to disturb little Peg. He could not endure the thought that anything should grieve her. He remembered how her tears used to fill him with fury. He felt now that he would gladly tear in pieces any man who would bring the tears to those great blue eyes. He must see Peg, and he must see her with the young man. He must see her eyes as she looked upon him. He could easily visualise the young man’s eyes as he looked upon her. But the young man counted for nothing. Nor indeed did he himself count for anything. It was Peg that mattered. He came to see that clearly. More than anything in his life, it was important that Peg should be happy and safe. And the man that Peg felt could make her happy and keep her safe should have the right to do so. Yes, Peg had the word. And Peg’s happiness and security were the important issues. What should come to him or to that other man was really a subordinate issue. It was late afternoon when he rode slowly down the drive. He had clarified his mind as to his objective in going to the “big white house,” but he knew not just what reception was awaiting him. The air was warm and balmy, a gift day from summer to autumn; the valley was full of deep purples and blues; the river gleamed bright in the late afternoon sun; and far in the west the dark mountains lay softly against a sky of liquid gold. It was good to be alive, and good to be at home in the valley again. Paul’s heart was warm with tender memories of his boyhood days, his boyhood friends, and among these he discovered now that Peg had ever held the central place. In every scheme of life, past and future, Peg was assigned the chief rôle. And this afternoon it was to meet Peg, after all, that he was riding to the “big white house.” The others, important and dear as they were, formed the setting merely for her appearance. Paul caught himself up sharply for this, but off guard he found his mind ever arranging its stage furnishing in such fashion as to give Peg the central place and the leading rôle. Hence when he rode quietly into the front yard and stood at the open door of the living room, it was Peg who first caught and held his eyes. For some moments he stood silently gazing at the girl across the width of the room. Then he took a step toward her, his eyes still fastened upon her face. “Good afternoon,” said the Colonel, courteously, rising to greet a stranger. “You don’t know me,” he said, smiling at the girl. With a faint cry she advanced slowly toward him. “Oh, it is you!” she said. “Oh, Paul, you have come back!” With hands reaching toward him she ran the remaining steps. “Yes, Peg, I said I would come for you,” he said, his voice tense and low, taking her hands in his. “I always said you would come,” she said, her blue eyes shining, her face pale, her lips trembling.