He returned even sooner than she had expected him to come. In response to his telegram she sent the carriage to the station to meet him on the arrival of the afternoon train. When she heard the rumbling of the wheels outside she went to the door, knowing that it would require her best effort to cheerfully welcome the disappointed, dejected and enfeebled old man. Then she had the surprise of her life. Colonel Butler alighted from the carriage and mounted the porch steps with the elasticity of youth. He was travel-stained and weary, indeed; but his face, from which half the wrinkles seemed to have disappeared, was beaming with happiness. He kissed his daughter, and, with old-fashioned courtesy, conducted her to a porch chair. In her mind there could be but one explanation for his extraordinary appearance and conduct; the purpose of his journey had been accomplished and his last absurd wish had been gratified.
"I suppose," she said, with a sigh, "they have agreed to adopt your plans, and take you back into the army."
"Into the what, my dear?"
"Into the army. Didn't you go to Washington for the purpose of getting back into service?"
"Why, yes. I believe I did. Pardon me, but, in view of matters of much greater importance, the result of this particular effort had slipped my mind."
"Matters of greater importance?"
"Yes. I was about to inform you that while I was in New York I unexpectedly ran across my grandson, Master Penfield Butler."
She sat up with a look of surprise and apprehension in her eyes.
"Ran across Pen? What was he doing there?"
"He was on his way to Canada to join those forces of the Dominion Government which will eventually sail for France, and help to free that unhappy country from the heel of the barbarian."