He was taller, and
more mature in every way, of course. She noted with satisfaction that he
had gained control of his hands and feet, but he had the same boyish
face, the same square, well-moulded chin, and the same nice brown eyes.
Only his slender, nervous hands betrayed the violinist.
"Well, are you pleased with me?" he asked of Madame, his eyes twinkling.
"Yes," she answered with a faint flush. "If you had worn long hair and a
velvet collar, I should never have forgiven you."
Colonel Kent laughed outright. "I should never have dared to bring him
back to you, Francesca, if he had fallen so low. We're Americans, and
please God, we'll stay Americans, won't we, lad?"
"You bet," answered Allison, boyishly, going over to salute Mr. Boffin.
"'But in spite of all temptations to belong to other nations, I'm an Am-
er-i-can,'" he sang, under his breath. Through the mysterious workings
of some sixth sense, Mr. Boffin perceived approaching trouble and made a
hurried escape.
"Will you look at that?" asked Allison, with a hearty laugh. "I hadn't
even touched him and he became suspicious of me.
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