“You won't say anything about Laban before Mrs. Ellis, will you, Albert?” persisted Mrs. Snow. “She's dreadful sensitive. I'll explain by and by.” He promised, repressing a condescending smile. Both the housekeeper and Captain Snow returned in a few minutes. The latter reported that the mare was safe and sound in her stall. “The harness was mostly on the floor, but Jess was all right, thank the Lord,” observed the captain. “Jess is our horse's name, Albert,” explained Mrs. Snow. “That is, her name's Jessamine, but Zelotes can't ever seem to say the whole of any name. When we first bought Jessamine I named her Magnolia, but he called her 'Mag' all the time and I COULDN'T stand that. Have some more preserves, Albert, do.” All through the meal Albert was uneasily conscious that his grandfather was looking at him from under the shaggy brows, measuring him, estimating him, reading him through and through. He resented the scrutiny and the twinkle of sardonic humor which, it seemed to him, accompanied it. His way of handling his knife and fork, his clothes, his tie, his manner of eating and drinking and speaking, all these Captain Zelotes seemed to note and appraise. But whatever the results of his scrutiny and appraisal might be he kept them entirely to himself. When he addressed his grandson directly, which was not often, his remarks were trivial commonplaces and, although pleasant enough, were terse and to the point. Several times Mrs. Snow would have questioned Albert concerning the life at school, but each time her husband interfered. “Not now, not now, Mother,” he said. “The boy ain't goin' to run away to-night. He'll be here to-morrow and a good many to-morrows, if”--and here again Albert seemed to detect the slight sarcasm and the twinkle--“if we old-fashioned 'down easters' ain't too common and every-day for a high-toned young chap like him to put up with. No, no, don't make him talk to-night. Can't you see he's so sleepy that it's only the exercise of openin' his mouth to eat that keeps his eyes from shuttin'? How about that, son?” It was perfectly true. The long train ride, the excitement, the cold wait on the station platform and the subsequent warmth of the room, the hearty meal, all these combined to make for sleepiness so overpowering that several times the boy had caught his nose descending toward his plate in a most inelegant nod. But it hurt his pride to think his grandfather had noticed his condition. “Oh, I'm all right,” he said, with dignity. Somehow the dignity seemed to have little effect upon Captain Zelotes. “Um--yes, I know,” observed the latter dryly, “but I guess likely you'll be more all right in bed. Mother, you'll show Albert where to turn in, won't you? There's your suitcase out there in the hall, son. I fetched it in from the barn just now.” Mrs. Snow ventured a protest. “Oh, Zelotes,” she cried, “ain't we goin' to talk with him at ALL? Why, there is so much to say!”