"Why--yes, some of it was.When the 'flu' epidemic was raging and the poor fellows were having such a dreadful time it was bad enough.After that I was sent to Eastview.In the hospital there I met the boys who had been wounded on the other side and who talked about old age and dissatisfaction and uneasiness, just as you do.But MY work doesn't count.You are the person to be talked about.Since I have seen you you have become a famous poet and a hero and--""Don't!"
She had been smiling; now she was very serious.
"Forgive me, Albert," she said."We have been joking, you and I, but there was a time when we--when your friends did not joke.Oh, Albert, if you could have seen the Snow place as I saw it then.It was as if all the hope and joy and everything worth while had been crushed out of it.Your grandmother, poor little woman, was brave and quiet, but we all knew she was trying to keep up for Captain Zelotes' sake.And he--Albert, you can scarcely imagine how the news of your death changed him....Ah! well, it was a hard time, a dreadful time for--for every one."She paused and he, turning to look at her, saw that there were tears in her eyes.He knew of her affection for his grandparents and theirs for her.Before he could speak she was smiling again.
"But now that is all over, isn't it?" she said."And the Snows are the happiest people in the country, I do believe.AND the proudest, of course.So now you must tell me all about it, about your experiences, and about your war cross, and about your literary work--oh, about everything."The all-inclusive narrative was not destined to get very far.Old Mr.Kendall came hurrying in, the sermon on the casting down of Baal in his hand.Thereafter he led, guided, and to a large extent monopolized the conversation.His discourse had proceeded perhaps as far as "Thirdly" when Albert, looking at his watch, was surprised to find it almost dinner time.Mr.Kendall, still talking, departed to his study to hunt for another sermon.The young people said good-by in his absence.
"It has been awfully good to see you again, Helen," declared Albert."But I told you that in the beginning, didn't I? You seem like--well, like a part of home, you know.And home means something to me nowadays.""I'm glad to hear you speak of South Harniss as home.Of course Iknow you don't mean to make it a permanent home--I imagine Madeline would have something to say about that--but it is nice to have you speak as if the old town meant something to you."He looked about him.
"I love the place," he said simply.
"I am glad.So do I; but then I have lived here all my life.The next time we talk I want to know more about your plans for the future--yours and Madeline's, I mean.How proud she must be of you."He looked up at her; she was standing upon the upper step and he on the walk below.
"Madeline and I--" he began.Then he stopped.What was the use?
He did not want to talk about it.He waved his hand and turned away.
After dinner he went out into the kitchen to talk to Mrs.Ellis, who was washing dishes.She was doing it as she did all her share of the housework, with an energy and capability which would have delighted the soul of a "scientific management" expert.Except when under the spell of a sympathetic attack Rachel was ever distinctly on the job.
And of course she was, as always, glad to see her protege, her Robert Penfold.The proprietary interest which she had always felt in him was more than ever hers now.Had not she been the sole person to hint at the possibility of his being alive, when every one else had given him up for dead? Had not she been the only one to suggest that he might have been taken prisoner? Had SHE ever despaired of seeing him again--on this earth and in the flesh?
Indeed, she had not; at least, she had never admitted it, if she had.So then, hadn't she a RIGHT to feel that she owned a share in him? No one ventured to dispute that right.
She turned and smiled over one ample shoulder when he entered the kitchen.
"Hello," she hailed cheerfully."Come callin', have you, Robert--Albert, I mean? It would have been a great help to me if you'd been christened Robert.I call you that so much to myself it comes almost more natural than the other.On account of you bein' so just like Robert Penfold in the book, you know," she added.
"Yes, yes, of course, Rachel, I understand," put in Albert hastily.
He was not in the mood to listen to a dissertation on a text taken from Foul Play.He looked about the room and sighed happily.
"There isn't a speck anywhere, is there?" he observed."It is just as it used to be, just as I used to think of it when I was laid up over there.When I wanted to try and eat a bit, so as to keep what strength I had, I would think about this kitchen of yours, Rachel.
It didn't do to think of the places where the prison stuff was cooked.They were not--appetizing."Mrs.Ellis nodded."I presume likely not," she observed."Well, don't tell me about 'em.I've just scrubbed this kitchen from stem to stern.If I heard about those prison places, I'd feel like startin' right in and scrubbin' it all over again, I know Ishould....Dirty pigs! I wish I had the scourin' of some of those Germans! I'd--I don't know as I wouldn't skin 'em alive."Albert laughed."Some of them pretty nearly deserved it," he said.
Rachel smiled grimly."Well, let's talk about nice things," she said."Oh, Issy Price was here this forenoon; Cap'n Lote sent him over from the office on an errand, and he said he saw you and Mr.
Kendall goin' down street together just as he was comin' along.He hollered at you, but you didn't hear him.'Cordin' to Issachar's tell, you was luggin' a basket with Jonah's whale in it, or somethin' like that."Albert described his encounter with the minister.Rachel was much interested.
"Oh, so you saw Helen," she said."Well, I guess she was surprised to see you.""Not more than I was to see her.I didn't know she was in town.
