They dismissed the driver when within a block of the house and made their way as inconspicuously as possible to the comfortable but unpretentious home that held all that was dearest to them on earth.
“Sneak around to the back, Jim,” whispered Joe. “I’ll go to the front door, and when they all come rushing to welcome me home, you come in on tiptoe and do your stuff.”
Fortunately no one was at the windows, and Joe got up on the porch unobserved and rang the bell.
A moment later he heard a light step that he knew, and his heart skipped a beat. The door opened, and Mabel, as dainty and sweet as a rose, stood framed in the doorway.
Into her eyes came astonishment, wonder, rapture!
“Joe!” she cried in wild delight. “Oh, Joe——”
Whatever else she said was indistinguishable, for Joe had swept her into his arms and effectually cut off her speech.
Then came a rush from the other rooms, and Clara, prettier than ever, and Mrs. Matson had to have their share of the welcome, and for a few minutes it was a happy pandemonium.
But Clara’s eyes wandered towards the door, and they were full of wistful longing.
“If only Jim could have come with you!” she faltered.