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Back in the little town of Bremen, Bennet, with his father, mother and sister, arrived without incident, after the graduation exercises. The first few days of the return were filled with social affairs, visitations and congratulations on the part of the friends of the family for the young man. There were letters from Lida, on her way home and replies such as only two happy lovers, separated for a time can write.

It was after the receipt of one of these one morning that Bennet's face became serious and his attitude thoughtful. While in this mood his father came upon him. Bennet still held the letter in his hand and was looking off into the distance.

"What's the matter, boy?—When will you marry the girl?—Why don't you tell us about her?" he asked without giving the young man a chance to reply.

"That's just what I was thinking about.—Telling you." He looked at his father.

"No better time. Who is she?—and what's she like?" The elder man asked.

Father and son had always been frank with each other, a comradeship having been established between them from the time Truman was a lad and preserved more closely than is the case between most fathers and sons.

"Well, Dad. She's a wonder."

"They all are at your time of life," he answered philo-