eyes to her again, from the fire, "I am intruding on you this
afternoon for a reason that I hope you will find easy to forgive
in an old man. I must tell you first that my wife and I used
to live in this house, a good many years ago. We moved away from
it--let me see--we left this house something like twenty-six or
--eight years ago. But we've talked a hundred times of coming
back here some day, and having a little look about 'little
Ten-Twelve,' as we always used to call it. I see your number's
changed. But"--his gesture was almost apologetic--"we are busy
people. Mrs. Rideout likes to live in the country a great part
of the time; this neighborhood is inaccessible now--time goes
by, and, in short, we haven't ever come back. But this was home
to us for a good many years." He was speaking in a lower voice
now, his eyes on the fire. "Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am," he said
gently, "I brought Rose here a bride--thirty-three years ago."

"Well, but fancy!" said Anne, her face radiant, "just as we
did! No wonder we said the house looked as if people had been
happy in it!"

"There was a Frenchwoman here then," said Mr. Rideout, thoughtfully,
"a queer woman! She played fast and loose until I didn't know
whether we'd ever really get the place or not. This neighborhood was
full of just such houses then, although I remember Rose used to make
great capital out of the fact that ours was the only brick one among
them. This house came around the Horn from Philadelphia, as a matter
of fact, and"--his eyes, twinkling with indulgent amusement, met
Anne's,--"and you know that before a lady has got a baby to boast
of, she's going to do a little boasting about her new house!"