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 Edward told him. Mother and father would be back before long. James and Sarah weren't expected until tomorrow. Sometimes Bruce and Ruth came up for Sunday, but not so often as foro merly. Ruth didn't like the country.

John knew that. He had called on Ruth and the new brother on his way home. Ruth had patronized him. She had not seemed to think that a brother in the merchant marine was much of a social asset. But Bruce had been fine. Pity to coop a fellow like that up in a city! He would have made a fine sailor.

They went into the parlor, and for a few moments John looked from one familiar object to another. There had been few changes. There were fresh pieces of Dear Mother's handiwork in her favorite reds and purples draped over chair backs and the corners of pictures, and there was a new rug in front of the fireplace. John noted everything. Presently he noticed the family medicine book lying open and face down. He picked it up.

"Mumps," he said, and laughed. Then he handed the book back to Edward and said: "I got as far as Opthalmia. When you read all about the horrible diseases in this book, do you feel as if you were developing all the symptoms? That's the way it made me feel. Does mother still keep this book in the lower drawer? If I were you I'd