On most things I'm still groping, fumbling, waiting—waiting"
"Naturally," interrupted Cousin Pattie, impatiently. "What do you expect? Rome wasn't built in a day, child. Souls don't get their buildings all up, and streets all laid out spick and span in a moment. What makes me rejoice is, you've got a soul, Reba. My lands, last time I was here, I couldn't see one even in embryo. Well," she switched off, "when do you expect this husband of yours to be showing up anyhow?"
"I don't know. I can't tell. It takes a long while for our letters to reach each other."
"Mixed up in the war some way, is he?"
"Oh, no. I doubt if Nathan is even an American citizen. He lives at sea, you know."
"You going to live at sea too? Little land creature like you?"
"If he wants me to. I'm going to do anything he wants me to do."
A half-hour later Cousin Pattie was steaming noisily toward Union. Reba walked back from the station to the town-hall. She must finish her records before locking up and going home. She stopped in a drugstore first, however, and telephoned to Aunt Augusta not to keep supper waiting for her. It was when she was coming out of the drugstore that she met her father.
"Oh, there you are," he said. "I'm hunting for you. Registered package for you from San Francisco. Thought it might be something valuable, so I've got it in my pocket here."
"A package?" Reba questioned.
