Vivian danced to her heart's content and enjoyed the friendly merriment about her; but when Fordham Greer took her out on the long piazza to rest and breathe a little, she saw the dark bulk of the house across the street and the office with its half-lit window, and could not avoid thinking of the lonely man there.
He had not come to the dance, no one expected that, of course; but all his boys had come and were having the best of times.
"It's his own fault, of course; but it's a shame," she thought.
The music sounded gaily from within, and young Greer urged for another dance.
She stood there for a moment, hesitating, her hand on his arm, when a tall figure came briskly up the street from the station, turned in at their gate, came up the steps——
The girl gave a little cry, and shrank back for an instant, then eagerly came forward and gave her hand to him.
It was Morton.