“I believe that's Hosmer.” Hannah rose. “It's funny, too, because he said he'd have to stay at the hotel to-night, there was so much settling up at the bank.” It was, however, Hosmer Braley. He paused at the parlor door, a man in the vicinity of thirty, fat in body and carefully clad, with a white starched collar and figured satin tie. “I didn't want to drive out,” he said, at once bland and aggrieved; “but it couldn't be helped. Here's a piece of news for all of you--Phebe is coming home to visit She wrote me to say so, and I only got the letter this evening. Whatever do you suppose took her?” Hannah at once flushed with excitement--like, Calvin Stammark thought, the parlor lamp with the pink shade, turned up suddenly. An instant vague depression settled over him; Hannah, only the minute before in his arms, seemed to draw away from him, remote and unconcerned by anything but Phebe's extraordinary return. Hosmer made it clear that the event promised nothing but annoyance for him. “She's coming by to-morrow's stage,” he went on, untouched by the sensation his information had wrought in the kitchen; “and it's certain I can't meet her. The bank's sending me into West Virginia about some securities.” Richmond Braley, it developed further, was bound to a day's work on the public roads. They turned to Calvin. “Take my buggy,” Hosmer offered; “I'll have to go from Durban by rail.” There was no reason why he shouldn't meet Phebe Braley, Calvin realized. He lingered, gazing with silent longing at Hannah, but it was evident that she had no intention of returning to the parlor. III Waiting in Hosmer's buggy for the arrival of the Greenstream stage and Phebe Braley, Calvin was conscious of the persistence of the depression that had invaded him at the announcement of her visit. He resented, too, the new element thrust into the Braley household, disrupting the familiar course of his love. Hannah had been unreasonably distracted by the actuality of Phebe's return--the Phebe who had gone away from the mountains and become an actress. The buggy was drawn to one side of the principal Greenstream road, at the post-office. Before him the way crossed the valley and lifted abruptly to the slope of the eastern range. At his back the village--the brick Methodist church and the white painted Presbyterian church, the courthouse with its dignified columns, the stores at the corners of the single crossroads, and varied dwellings--was settling into the elusive May twilight. The highest peaks in the east were capped with dissolving rose by the lowering sun, and the sky was a dusty blue. Calvin Stammark heard the approaching stage before he saw it; then the long rigid surrey with its spare horses rapidly rolled up over the open road to the post-office. He got down and moved diffidently forward, seeing and recognizing Phebe immediately. This was made possible by her resemblance to Hannah; and yet, Calvin added, no two women could be more utterly different.