passed her quondam boarder, with a tired sigh,
sank into his favorite morris chair in his old
familiar rooms, and looked about him with contented
eyes. Every treasure was in place, from
the traditional four small stones of his babyhood
days to the Batterseas Billy had just brought him.
Pete, as of yore, was hovering near with a dust-
cloth. Bertram's gay whistle sounded from the
floor below. William Henshaw was at home again.

This much accomplished, Billy went to see
Aunt Hannah.

Aunt Hannah greeted her affectionately, though
with tearfully troubled eyes. She was wearing
a gray shawl to-day topped with a black one--
sure sign of unrest, either physical or mental, as
all her friends knew.

``I'd begun to think you'd forgotten--me,''
she faltered, with a poor attempt at gayety.

``You've been home three whole days.''

``I know, dearie,'' smiled Billy; ``and 'twas
a shame. But I have been so busy! My trunks
came at last, and I've been helping Uncle William
get settled, too.''

Aunt Hannah looked puzzled.