Now, as the train moved on,
he fell into chat with the country folk who got on the train for short
travel. Soon or late they all talked politics, but 'generally guessed
things would be settled somehow'--which is the easily reached conclusion
of the American. When the old conductor, with the confidence John's
manner invited, asked what uniform he wore, John said, laughing, "Do you
not remember the boy with a cane who got out at Westways Crossing?"
"You ain't him--?? not really? Why it's years ago! You are quite a bit
changed."
"For the better, I hope."
"Well, here's your station, and Miss Grey waiting."
"Oh, John, glad to see you! I told aunt no one must go for you but me.
Get in. And Billy, look out how you drive."
Billy, bewildered by the tall figure in cadet jacket and grey pantaloons,
needed the warning.
Then there was the avenue, the big grey pine, home, and Aunt Ann's kiss
of welcome. The old familiar life was again his. He rode with the Squire
or Leila, swam, and talked to Rivers whenever he could induce the too
easily tired man to walk with him. He was best pleased to do so when
Leila was of the party. Then at least the talk was free and wandered from
poetry and village news to discussion of the last addition to the causes
of quarrel between the North and South.
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