It was not until dinner was over that Captain Rayburn and his nephew
returned, begging pardon for their tardiness, and explaining that they
had taken luncheon in the city.
"Fiddle," Jeff said, with a face of preternatural gravity, "come up to
Uncle Ray's room when the dishes are done, will you?"
He vanished before his sister could ask why, and before she could see
the grin which overspread his ruddy countenance as he turned away. But
something he could not keep out of his voice roused her curiosity, and
she made quick work of the dishes.
"Come in, come in!" invited Captain Rayburn, and Jeff rose from the
couch, where his nose had been buried among some of his uncle's
periodicals.
There were always books and magazines by the Score wherever Captain
Rayburn settled himself for any length of time.
The ex-soldier and the schoolboy eyed each other doubtfully for an
instant as Charlotte dropped into a chair. Her usually bright face was
still very sober, and her eyelashes swept her cheek as she waited.
Captain Rayburn nodded at Jeff. The boy stood on one foot, then on the
other, pushed his hands deep into his pockets, pulled them out again,
cleared his throat, laughed nervously, and strode suddenly across the
room to his sister.
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