answer.

Bill and his mother exchanged expressive glances. When was
anything ever convenient for Martin Wade unless he were to derive
a direct, personal satisfaction from it! Then it became a horse
of quite another color. He could even become lavish; everything
must be of the best; nothing else would do; no expense, as long
as full value was received, was too great. Mrs. Wade found
herself searching her memory. She was positive that not since
those occasions upon which he had brought home the sacks of candy
for the sheer sunshine of watching little Rose's glee had
anyone's pleasure been of enough importance to him to become his
own. All this present concern for her comfort talked far more
plainly than words.

This time, Mrs. Wade admitted bravely to herself that her
jealousy was not for Billy. It would have been far easier for her
if she had known that Martin was thinking of their coming guest
as he had last seen her thirteen years before. He realized,
thoroughly, that she must have grown up, but before his mental
eyes there still danced the roguish little girl he had held so
tenderly in his arms and had so longed to protect and cherish.

He experienced a distinct sense of shock, therefore, when, tall,
slender and smartly dressed, Rose stepped off the train and,
throwing her arms impulsively around his neck, gave him an
affectionate kiss. The feel of those soft, warm lips lingered
strangely, setting his heart to pounding as he guided her down
the platform.