“That’s kind of you.  It goes without saying that I am very glad, too,” responded the proprietor of the place.  His thin face flushed a little as he greeted the others, and his eyes, like Westcott’s, dwelt a trifle longer on the face of one of the party than on any of the others.

“Rob, I believe you’ll find your lavender linen here,” said Ruth in her sister’s ear, as Uncle Rufus came in and Benson began to show them all about the store.  “Look, there are all kinds of white linens; let’s stop and ask.”

With a word of explanation, Roberta delayed at the counter Ruth had indicated, making inquiry for the goods she sought.  It chanced that this department was next to an inclosure which was partially of glass, the new office of the firm.  The old firm had had no office, only a desk in a dark corner.  In this place two men were talking.  One was facing the store, his glance even as he spoke upon the way things were going outside; the other’s back was turned.  But Ruth, gazing interestedly around as her sister examined linens, discovered something familiar about the set of one of the heads just beyond the glass partition, though she could not see the face.  When this head was suddenly thrown back with a peculiar motion she had noted when its owner was particularly amused over something, Ruth said to herself:  “Why, that’s Mr. Richard Kendrick!  What in the world is he doing out here at Eastman?”

As if she had called him Richard turned about and his look encountered Ruth’s.  The next instant he was out of the glass inclosure and at her side.  Roberta, hearing Ruth’s low but eager, “Why, Mr. Kendrick, who ever expected to see you in Eastman!” turned about with an expression of astonishment, which was reflected in both the faces before her.

An interested village salesgirl now looked on at a little scene the like of which had never come within the range of her experience.  That three people, clearly so surprised to meet in this particular spot, should not proceed voluminously to explain to each other within her hearing the cause of their surprise, was to her an extraordinary thing.  But after the first moment’s expression of wonder the three seemed to accept the fact as a matter of course, and began to exchange observations concerning the weather, the roads, and various other matters of comparatively small importance.  It was not until Uncle Rufus, rounding a high-piled counter with his wife and Hugh Benson, came upon the group, that anything was said of which the curious young person behind the counter could make enough to guess at the situation.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Kendrick!” he exclaimed, after one keen look, and hastened forward, hand outstretched.  So the group now became doubled in size, and Uncle Rufus expressed great pleasure at seeing again the young man whose hospitality he had enjoyed during the Christmas house-party.

“But I didn’t suppose we should ever see you up here in our town,” said he, “especially in winter.  Come by the morning train?”