If the strange man she had walked with were her father, then Anna had no fear. If he had escaped from prison and his daughter had helped him, Anna was only too glad. She would have been glad to help him herself. But if it weren’t--and how could it be? Why should Alice have exhibited that uncanny interest in Reuben’s past if the man was her father? If he wasn’t her father, if he were some younger man--Anna wouldn’t admit it even to herself, but something kept trying to tell her that Alice acted now just as a girl would who was planning to run away--to elope. Still, that did not explain her interest in Reuben. Alice didn’t question any more, it is true, but she was all eagerness whenever Reuben was mentioned. But nothing could be more absurd, if one knew Reuben, than to connect him in any way with the man with whom Alice had been seen or with the occasion of her solitary rambles. In the midst of this, happily for Anna, a counter-excitement arose. A change came over Joe, Junior, which, slight as it might have seemed to another, thrilled the heart of his foster-mother. On a sudden he began to take an interest in the world about him and the passing scene. A faint flicker of colour appeared upon his little old man’s face which looked less mournful and forlorn. He held everything that was put into his hands, examining it gravely from every angle, and evinced a real interest in the animals in his gay picture book, viewing them as seriously and intently as if he were making weighty deductions in natural history or even biology, though his silence remained unbroken. * * * * * The December day fixed for the visit at the parsonage dawned clear and fine and remained unclouded up to sundown. Anna set out promptly in order to catch the mid-day beams upon those western windows that had shut out the sun for so many annual revolutions. The snow had disappeared, save in patches facing the north, and the air was genial. Joe, Junior, was almost rosy, looked calmly content and less serious than his wont. Anna wore her Sunday suit of hunter’s green with the coquettish little cocked hat perched on her short locks and looked like a handsome young prince. Strange to say, however, she was quite unaware of her appearance. She hadn’t glanced at a mirror except to put in her brooch, and her face was very grave. None knew how the girl dreaded the ordeal, but Mrs. Lorraine, who drove her over with the fat pony, guessed something. She exclaimed over the baby’s improvement, praised the green suit and thought the little hat was even more becoming with bobbed hair. Anna smiled absently but sighed almost immediately. “Anna, you don’t feel like going this afternoon? Let me take you back home and then go over to the parsonage and make your excuses?” Mrs. Lorraine begged.