"At last I heard a sound. A door opened, and my mother, who of old always used to be the first to move, looked out. Her hair was white, and her thin cheeks were pale; but I knew the kind eyes that looked forth to meet the morning, and should have known them despite any amount of change. I sprang forward to greet her.
"'Mother,' I said. She knew my voice and turned toward me trembling.
"'O Jack, Jack! I thought you were dead long ago. O my boy, my own boy!'
"And her arms were round my neck, her tender lips were kissing me; and so she drew me in, into peace, shelter, home.
"'And Nelly?' I asked, half afraid to call the name.
"'Nelly is well. Oh, if you had but waited to see. She was ill for awhile, but no serious harm came to her; and, instead, it was my own boy who went away to break my heart.'
"'And has come back to heal it,' I cried, growing bold and merry with my relief and joy.
"By this time the rest heard us, and came to the scene,—father, brothers, and last of all, Nelly; such a beautiful Nelly of sweet sixteen, ten times fairer and brighter than my brightest memories of her, and all ready to forgive me, and make much of me.
"Then was when the chivalry began. Then I was ready enough to fetch and carry for Miss Nelly of the dark eyes and the bright cheeks."
"Oh," said John, laughing, "then when a fellow is nineteen he can be chivalrous to his own sister?"