"Carley, don't mind mother," said Flo. "She means your dress is lovely.
Which is my say, too.... But, listen. I just saw Glenn comin' up the
road."
Carley ran to the open door with more haste than dignity. She saw a tall
man striding along. Something about him appeared familiar. It was his
walk--an erect swift carriage, with a swing of the march still visible.
She recognized Glenn. And all within her seemed to become unstable. She
watched him cross the road, face the house. How changed! No--this was
not Glenn Kilbourne. This was a bronzed man, wide of shoulder, roughly
garbed, heavy limbed, quite different from the Glenn she remembered. He
mounted the porch steps. And Carley, still unseen herself, saw his face.
Yes--Glenn! Hot blood seemed to be tingling liberated in her veins.
Wheeling away, she backed against the wall behind the door and held up
a warning finger to Flo, who stood nearest. Strange and disturbing then,
to see something in Flo Hutter's eyes that could be read by a woman in
only one way!
A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted.
"Flo!--who--where?" he began, breathlessly.
His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley's
ears as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filled
out that she did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievably
changed--not in the regularity of feature that had been its chief charm,
but in contour of cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line.
Carley's heart swelled with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to see
the sad fixed hopelessness, the havoc, gone from his face. Therefore
the restraint and nonchalance upon which Carley prided herself sustained
eclipse.
"Glenn! Look--who's--here!" she called, in voice she could not
have steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she had
anticipated.
Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry. He saw Carley. Then--no matter
how unreasonable or exacting had been Carley's longings, they were
satisfied.
"You!" he cried, and leaped at her with radiant face.
Carley not only did not care about the spectators of this meeting, but
forgot them utterly. More than the joy of seeing Glenn, more than
the all-satisfying assurance to her woman's heart that she was still
beloved, welled up a deep, strange, profound something that shook her
to her depths. It was beyond selfishness. It was gratitude to God and to
the West that had restored him.
"Carley! I couldn't believe it was you," he declared, releasing her from
his close embrace, yet still holding her.