"In New England?"
"Berringdon, Vermont."
"Berringdon? Your husband was n't one of the Wentworth boys?"
"He was Jim Wentworth, the oldest"
"Well, well! Then you are Sally Burnham."
"And you," she hesitated, "I do b'lieve you 're Peter Donaldson."
"Yes," he said, "I 'm Peter Donaldson."
The name from her lips took on its boyhood meaning. He shifted the youngster to his arms and crossing the room held out his hand to her.
"We did n't know each other very well in those days, but from now on—from now on we 're old friends, are n't we?"
The steel blue eyes grew moist.