"Wrong?" said Dr. Lavendar; "it's wrong not to be young. I'd be ashamed not to be young. My body's old, but that's not my fault. I'm not to blame for an old body, but I would be to blame for an old soul. An old soul is a shameful thing. Mind, now, don't let me catch you getting old!"
And then he said good-bye, and left her sitting by the stove. She turned her skirt back over her knees to keep it from scorching and held the picture in her left hand and warmed the palm of the right; then in her right hand and warmed the left. Then she put it down on her knees and warmed both hands and smiled.
II
When Mrs. Barkley heard the news of the wanderer's return, she hurried to Dr. Lavendar's study. "Do you suppose we need go on with the present?" she demanded, excitedly.
"Why not?" said Dr. Lavendar.
Mrs. Barkley looked conscious. "I only thought, perhaps—maybe—Mr. Rives—"
"William Rives's presence in Old Chester won't improve draughts, will it?" Dr. Lavendar said, crossly. And that was all she could get out of him.
Meantime, Old Chester began to kill the fatted calf. Mr. Rives liked fatted calves; and, furthermore, he had prudently arranged with Van Horne at the Tavern for a cash credit for each meal at which he was not present. "For why," he had said, reasonably enough, "should I pay for what I don't get?" So he went cheerfully wherever he was bidden. Old Chester approved of him as a guest, for, though talkative, he was respectful in his demeanor, and he did not, so Old Chester said, "put on airs." He was very stout, and he wore a black wig that curled all around the back of his neck; his eyes were somewhat dull, but occasionally they glanced out keenly over his fat cheeks. He had a very small mouth and a slight, perpetual smile that gave his face a rather kindly look, and his voice was mild and soft.
He had come back rich (his shabby clothes to the contrary); "and poor Lydia is so poor," said Old Chester; "perhaps—" and then it paused and smiled, and added that "it would be strange, after all these years, if—"