“I don’t like our being at outs any better than you do,” Chase went on. “It looks bad; and it’s hard on your mother--and on me. Perhaps on you, too.” Wint said nothing. He was thinking that his father’s thinning hair and lined face proved that the older man had--found it hard to be at outs with his son. He was ready to go a long ways to make it up to Winthrop Chase, Senior. His father said abruptly, as though summarizing what had gone before: “If you want to come home, Wint, I’ve no objection.” Wint had not thought of this possibility, and he said so. “I did not come for that,” he told the older man. “I--just came to tell you, what I have told you.” “I’m willing to accept what you say at face value,” said his father. “I understand you’ve--kept sober. I understand you’re studying. I’m ready to let you prove yourself.” Wint smiled with quick satisfaction. “That’s a good deal for you to offer me, sir,” he said frankly. “If you want to come home, you can.” “I hadn’t thought of that till you spoke. I don’t know what to--” “Your mother would like to have you here,” said Chase huskily, “if you care to come.” It was as near a plea as he could bring himself. Wint nodded with quick decision. “All right, sir,” he said. “I’d like to come. I’ll bring my stuff to-morrow.” They shook hands abruptly, with a curt word that hid their feelings. “Good night,” said Chase, and Wint said good night, and his father closed the door behind him. Wint felt, while he walked back to Amos Caretall’s house, as though he had been stripped of a load, had been cleansed, had been made whole. The world had never looked so clean and bright to him before. A few minutes after he left his home, Mrs. Chase came back from the neighbor’s. She saw at once that something had happened; there was a change in her husband. He was flushed, and his eyes were shining. She asked: “Why, what’s the matter with you? Has anything happened? Is there anything wrong? You know, I said to-night, I told Mrs. Hullis, that I just had a feeling something was going to happen. I told Mrs. Hullis I just knew things were going to go wrong. Oh, it does look like we have more trouble all the time.” “Wint is coming home, Margaret,” said her husband. Poor, garrulous mother! For once she was shocked dumb. Her eyes widened, and she dabbed at them with her hand, as though a cobweb had stuck across them. She turned white, and she seemed to shrink and grow old. And she sat down slowly in the straight, uncomfortable chair she always used, and put her worried old head down in her arms and cried. Chase touched her shoulder, awkwardly comforting her. “It’s all right, mother,” he said. “He’s coming home.” But Mrs. Chase didn’t say anything. She just sat there, quietly crying. The tears wet through her sleeve till she felt them damp upon her arm. CHAPTER VI A WORD AS TO HETTY