She ran upstairs before him and signed to him to wait at the [pg 319]top. “Father,” she said, bursting into a room, “I have taken a captive; someone you certainly don’t expect to see. Now, you must guess.”
“How can I, my dear, when you say I don’t expect to see him? Is it—?” and he mentioned five or six of his friends in Jamaica, any of whom might be returning.
“No, father. You are out altogether.”
“Then I give it up, Alice.”
“It is Will,” she said.
Will heard him spring to his feet and hurry to the door.
“My dear young friend!” he exclaimed. “At least I suppose it is you, for you have grown out of all recognition.”
“Ah, father!” the girl broke in. “You see, he hadn’t changed so much as to deceive me. I felt sure of him the moment I set eyes upon him.”
“Well, then, your eyes do you credit,” her father said. “Certainly I should not have recognized him. He has grown from a lad into a man since we saw him last. He has widened out tremendously. He was rather one of the lean kind at that time.”
“Oh, father, how can you say so? I consider that he was just right.”