"
The old workman was studying her now with kind but frankly
understanding eyes. "John and Mary have gone to see some of the folks
that she is looking after in the Flats," he said, slowly. "They'll be
back any minute now, I should think."
She did not know what to reply to this. There were so many things she
wanted to know--so many things that she felt she must know. But she
felt herself forced to answer with the mere commonplace, "You are all
well, I suppose, Uncle Pete?"
"Fine, thank you," he answered. "Mary is always busy with her housework
and her flowers and the poor sick folks she's always a-looking
after--just like her mother, if you remember. Charlie, he's working
late to-day--some breakdown or something that's keeping him overtime.
That brother of yours is a fine manager, Miss Helen, and," he added,
with a faint note of something in his voice that brought a touch of
color to her cheeks, "a finer man."
Again she felt the crowding rush of those questions she wanted to ask,
but she only said, with an air of calm indifference, "John has changed
so since his return from France--in many ways he seems like a different
man."
"As for that," he replied, "the war has changed most people in one way
or another. It was bound to.
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