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"You have told her nothing, then?" Darrell inquired.

"No; life has so many uncertainties and she has already suffered so

much. You had a long journey before you; if anything had happened to

detain you, it was better not to have her in suspense."

"You were right," Darrell replied; "you know I left all that to your own

judgment."

"Darrell, old boy," said the doctor, inspecting his companion

critically, "do satisfy my curiosity: is that white hair genuine or a

wig donned for the occasion?"

"What reason could I have for any such masquerading?" Darrell demanded;

"when you come to know my experience for the past two years you will not

wonder that my hair is white."

"I beg your pardon, old fellow; I meant no offence. We had all given you

up for dead--all but your mother; and your telegram nearly knocked me

off my feet."

Here the doctor drew rein, and, fastening the horses outside, they

entered his office, a small, one-story building standing close to the

street in one corner of the great dooryard of his father's home, and

sheltered alike from sun and storm by giant maples.

After brief consultation it was decided that as Dr. Elliott and his

father were frequent callers at the Jewett home, the entire party would

drive out there, and, in the probable event of not seeing Mrs. Britton,

who was an invalid and retired at an early hour, Darrell and his father

would spend the night at the old homestead, but their presence would not

be known by the wife and mother until the following morning.

"You see, sir," Dr. Elliott remarked to Mr. Britton, "your coming has

complicated matters a little. I would not apprehend any danger from the

meeting between Mrs. Britton and her son, for she has looked for his

return every day; but I cannot say what might be the result of the shock

her nervous system would sustain in meeting you. We are safe, however,

in going out there this evening, for she always retires to her room

before this time."

Both Mr. Britton and Darrell grew silent as the old Jewett homestead

came in view. It was a wide-spreading house of colonial build, snowy

white with green shutters and overrun with climbing roses and

honeysuckle vines. It stood back at a little distance from the street,

and a broad walk, under interlacing boughs of oak, elm, and maple, led

from the street to the lofty pillared veranda across its front. The full

moon was rising opposite, its mellow light throwing every twig and

flower into bold relief. Two figures could be seen seated within the

veranda, and as the carriage stopped Dr. Elliott remarked,-"I was right; Mr. Jewett and his elder daughter are sitting outside, but

Mrs. Britton has retired."