There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. “I say, daddy,” she began, and was suddenly short of breath. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground. His eyes were bright with the hunt.
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