A minute later she appeared, leading an old man, who was whimpering
pitifully.

"Home, Jane. I want ter go home."

"Yes, dear, I know. We'll go." And Mary watched with wondering eyes
while the two walked down the path, through the gate and across the
street to the next corner, then slowly crossed again and came back
through the familiar doorway.

"Home!" chuckled the old man gleefully.

"We've come home!"

Mary went back to Boston the next day. She said it was fortunate,
indeed, that Jane's nerves were so strong. For her part, she could not
have stood it another day.

The days slipped into weeks, and the weeks into months. Jane took the
entire care of her father, except that she hired a woman to come in for
an hour or two once or twice a week, when she herself was obliged to
leave the house.

The owner of the blue-gray eyes did not belie the determination of his
chin, but made a valiant effort to establish himself on the basis of the
old intimacy; but Miss Pendergast held herself sternly aloof, and
refused to listen to him. In a year he had left town--but it was not his
fault that he was obliged to go away alone, as Jane Pendergast well
knew.