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For some reason Cathalina’s trunks had not arrived, so there was no unpacking except of suitcase and traveling bag. She was used to traveling and was at no loss in getting comfortably settled. Mr. Van Buskirk was made comfortable in the suite next to Cathalina’s. He had expected to go back to the hotel at Greycliff Heights, but Miss Randolph had insisted upon his remaining as a guest at Greycliff.

“With all these vacant rooms,” said she, “why not stay with Cathalina?” And Cathalina had added her persuasions. There were regular guest rooms, but they were too far from his little girl.

After breakfast the next morning, Mr. Van Buskirk told Cathalina that he preferred to take the lake walk back to the town. His bag was sent by the old-fashioned Greycliff express wagon, while he strolled down the shady walk with Cathalina. He talked earnestly and cheerfully of different matters, and at the arched gateway, where the vines climbed riotously and a little grey squirrel with a nut scolded them both, he kissed Cathalina goodbye and walked away briskly, turning once to give her a military salute and a parting smile. Cathalina blew a kiss and blithely waved her handkerchief, soon, alas, to be put to another use.