“It certainly has,” Scott said, “and I thought the train would never get here this time.”
“Two long years, Scott,” his mother said, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking searchingly into his face, “but you have not changed a bit. I was afraid you would.”
“No, mother,” he answered, “I was pretty foolish for about a month, but I got over it. And I can tell you all about even that,” he added smilingly, remembering his mother’s parting advice.
“Yes, I believe you could, Scott,” she said, looking earnestly into his eyes. “Come in to supper; we have been waiting in hope that you would come. There’s some mail here ahead of you.”
The old dining-room with the old chair in the same old place thrilled him with a strange joy. He suddenly realized that it was the first private dining-room he had been in since he left home.
He picked up one of the letters beside his plate. It was the return from his Civil Service examinations. He opened it eagerly and his face lighted as he read it.
“I passed my Civil Service exams,” he said modestly, handing the letter to his father.
“Ninety-two,” his father cried excitedly, “and you are rated second on the eligible list. Does that mean that only one man in the United States made a better mark?”
“I suppose so, but only a few of the men in the United States took it.”
“My boy, I’m proud of you,” his father said, grasping his hand. “And on only two years’ work, too. Aren’t you glad, Susan?”