Fred appeared in the doorway with a smiling face.
"How do you feel this morning, Mr. Grant?" he asked.
"I feel hungry," Mr. Grant declared. "I want some more of your good prairie cooking. If I get another meal of it I believe I'll be able to make friends with my son-in-law. When are you going to let me get up?"
Just then there was a rustle of skirts and Evelyn came swiftly into the room.
"Oh, father! father!" she cried, kissing the old man over and over again. "You will forgive me, won't you?"
The old man's voice was husky with happy tears.
"I guess we won't talk about forgiveness, dearie—we're about even, I think—but we've had our lesson. I've got my girl back—and, Evelyn, I want you and Fred to come home with me for Christmas and forever. You've got the old man solid, Evelyn. I couldn't face a Christmas without you."
Evelyn kissed him again without speaking.
"I will apologize to your man, Evelyn," the old man said, after a pause. "I haven't treated the boy right. I hope he won't hold it against me."
"Not a bit of it," declared Evelyn. "You don't know Fred—that's all."