presumably a barn, loomed black against the dark sky. He sang as
he drove and the big man on the step looked after him and sniffed
suspiciously.

Meanwhile the boy had followed the little woman into the house through
a small front hall, from which a narrow flight of stairs shot aloft with
almost unbelievable steepness, and into a large room. Albert had a
swift impression of big windows full of plants, of pictures of ships and
schooners on the walls, of a table set for four.

"Take your things right off," cried his grandmother. "Here, I'll take
'em. There! now turn 'round and let me look at you. Don't move till I
get a good look."

He stood perfectly still while she inspected him from head to foot.

"You've got her mouth," she said slowly. "Yes, you've got her mouth. Her
hair and eyes were brown and yours are black, but--but I THINK you look
like her. Oh, I did so want you to! May I kiss you, Albert? I'm your
grandmother, you know."

With embarrassed shyness he leaned forward while she put her arms about
his neck and kissed him on the cheek. As he straightened again he
became aware that the big man had entered the room and was regarding him
intently beneath a pair of shaggy gray eyebrows. Mrs. Snow turned.

"Oh, Zelotes," she cried, "he's got Janie's mouth, don't you think so?
And he DOES look like her, doesn't he?"

Her husband shook his head. "Maybe so, Mother," he said, with a half