“Pray for me,” he answered, and shortly after they had achieved the feat of saying good-night and parting once more, and the result of it all had been that Jack found himself tipping back and forth on the small chair, in the big room, at half-past midnight, puzzled, perturbed, and very much perplexed as to what to do first when the next morning should have become a settled fact. He was not used to conspiring, and being only a man, he had not those curious instinctive gifts of inspiration and luminous conception which fairly radiate around the brain of clever womankind. It was some time—a very long time indeed—before any light stole in upon his Stygian darkness, and then, when the light did come, it came in skyrocket guise, and had its share of cons attached to its very evident pros. “But I don’t care,” he declared viciously, as he rose and began to undress; “something’s got to be done,—some chances have got to be taken,—as well that as anything else. Perhaps better—very likely better.” Then he laughed over his unconscious imitation of his aunt’s phraseology, and made short work of finishing his disrobing and getting to bed. It was when Lucinda crept forth to begin to unlock the house at 6.30 upon the morning after, that the fact of the nephew’s arrival was first known to anyone except Janice. Lucinda saw the coat and hat,—recognized the initial on the handkerchief in the inside pocket, threw out her arms and gave a faint squeak in utter bewilderment, and then tore off at once to the barn to tell Joshua. She found Joshua milking the cow. “What do you think!” she panted briefly, with wide-open eyes and uplifted hands; “Joshua Whittlesey, _what_ do you think?” “I don’t think nothin’,” said Joshua. “I’m milkin’.” “What would you say if I told you as _he_ was come.” “I’d say he was here.” “Well, he is. He must ’a’ come last night, an’ Lord only knows how he ever got in, for nothing was left open an’ yet he’s there.” Joshua made no comment. “I wonder what he came for?” Joshua made no comment. “I wonder how long he’ll stay?” Still Joshua made no comment. “Joshua Whittlesey, before you get your breakfast, you’re the meanest man I ever saw, and I’ll swear to that anywhere.” “Why don’t you get me my breakfast then?” said Joshua calmly; and the effect of his speech and his demeanor was to cause Lucinda to turn and leave him at once—too outraged to address another word to him. Aunt Mary herself did not awake until ten o’clock. She rang her bell vigorously then and Janice flew to its answering. “I dreamed of Jack,” said the old lady, looking up with a smile. “I dreamed we was each ridin’ on camels in a merry-go-round.” Janice smiled too, and then set briskly to work to put the room in order and arrange its occupant for the day. “Did there come any mail?” Aunt Mary inquired, when her coiffure was made and her dressing-gown adjusted. “I feel jus’ like I might hear from Jack. Seems as if I sort of can’t think of anythin’ but him.”