girl was revealed to him in the dim glow of a heavily hooded light burning behind her in the entry hall. She squinted hard at him.

“Whut you want yere this time o’ night, mista?” she demanded. Her manner was not hospitable; it bordered on the suspicious.

“I’m looking for an address,” he began.

“Dis can’t be it.”

“I know that. But I thought maybe somebody here might help direct me.” From his growing exhaustion the intruder fairly was panting. “I’m sort of lost.”

“Oh, so tha’s it? Wait a minute, then.” Still holding the door slightly ajar, she called rearward over her shoulder: “Miss Sissie! Oh, Miss Sissie!”

“What is it?” The answer came from back of her.

“They’s a ole, kinder feebled-up lookin’ w’ite gen’elman out yere w’ich he think he’s lost his way.”

“Wait, I’ll come talk to him.”

A middle-aged tall woman, who was dressed, so the stranger decided, as though expecting stylish company, appeared now at the door and above the servant’s shoulder eyed him appraisingly. He tried to tell her his mission, but his voice weakened on him and trailed off. He caught at the door-casing; he felt dizzy.

The white woman elbowed the black one aside.

“Come on in,” she ordered. “Get out of the way, can’t you, Pansy?” She threw this second command at her maid. “Don’t you see he’s about ready to drop? Pick up his valise. There, that’s it, mister. Just put your weight on me.”

She half-lifted him across the threshold and eased him down upon a sofa in the hall. The negress closed and barred the door.

“Run make some hot coffee,” her employer bade her. “Or maybe you’d rather have a little liquor? I’ve got plenty of it in the house.” She addressed the slumped intruder.

“Nome, I never touch anything strong. But I reckin a cup of coffee would taste good to me—if I’m not putting you out too much? You’ll please have to excuse me, ma’am, for breaking in on you this way, but I—” Remembering his manners, he got his hat off in a little flurry of confusion.

“Where were you trying to get to?”

With difficulty he brought his card forth from his pocket and she took it from him and read what was written upon it.

“You’re a good long two miles and a half from where you belong,” she told him sharply.

“But ain’t this Bonaventure Avenue?”

“Yes, North Bonaventure. You came out Lawes Drive, didn’t you?—the wide street where the trolley-line is? Well, you should have gone south when you turned off. Instead of that you came north. These people”—she consulted the card again—“Philipson or whatever the name is—are they friends of yours?”

“Well, yes, ma’am, and nome. I’ve never met them. But they’re taking in one old soldier during the reunion, the hotels and the boarding-houses and all being so full up. And a gentleman at Tennessee Headquarters—that’s my headquarters, ma’am—he gave me that card and sent me there.”

“Send you alone?” Her angular shoulders, bare above a low-cut evening gown, shrugged impatiently.

“Oh, nome, one of these here little Boy Scouts he came with me to show me the way. You see, ma’am, it’s rightly my own fault, my not being all settled before dark. But I didn’t get in on the steam-cars till about six o’clock this evening and I didn’t want to miss the opening session at the big hall. So I went right there, packing my baggage along with me, just as soon as I’d got me a snack of supper, me not wanting to miss anything, as I was saying to you, ma’am. Then when the speechmaking and all was over, me and this little Boy Scout—he’d stayed right along with me at the hall—we put out to find where I was to stay. But he couldn’t hardly drag one foot behind the other. Poor little wore-out fellow, I reckin he’d been running around all day. So a few minutes ago I made him go on home, me figuring I could find the house my own self. And—well, here I am, ma’am, imposing on your kindness and mighty sorry to do it, too.”

“Never mind that part of it.”

“But just as soon as I can get a dram of hot coffee in me I expect I’ll feel stronger and then I’ll be shoving along and not bother you any more. I reckin that long train ride and the excitement and everything must ’a’ took it out of me, some way. There was a time when it wouldn’t have bothered me at all—not a bit. Still, I’ll have to confess I’m getting along, ma’am. I’ll be eighty-four this coming ninth of August.”

“Listen to me: You’re not going to stir another inch tonight. You stay right here and tomorrow morning I’ll decide myself whether you’re fit to go trapesing off across to the other side of town.”

“Oh, ma’am, I couldn’t do that!”

“Why couldn’t you?”

“But, ma’am, are you taking in any visitors during the reunion?”

“I wasn’t aiming to.” Her voice was grim. “But I’m fixing now to do that very little thing, whether or no.”

“But honest, now—I—” He scuffled with his tired feet. “It’s mighty good and mighty sweet of you, ma’am, but I’d hate to impose on you like that.”

“No imposition. There’re five spare bedrooms in this house—and nobody in any of them. And nobody going to be in any of them, either, while you’re here—except you. I think you’ll be comfortable.”

“I know I’d be comfortable but—”

“Then it’s all settled. By the way, I don’t know your name yet?”

“My name is Braswell—Nathan Braswell, late high private of the rear rank in the Eighteenth Tennessee Infantry. But up at Forks of Hatchie—that’s my home town, ma’am, a little town up in West Tennessee—they call me the Reverend Braswell, sometimes.”

“Reverend?” Her eyelids narrowed. “Are you a minister?”

“Oh, nome. But sometimes when we’re short on a preacher I make out to take the pulpit and read the Scriptures and make a little kind of a talk—not a regular sermon—just a little kind of a religious talk. And I’m purty active in church work generally. So I reckin that’s why some people call me the Reverend Braswell. But I never use the entitlement myself—it wouldn’t be becoming in a layman.”

“I see. You preach but you’re not a preacher. I guess you practice what you preach, too. You look like a good man, to me—and a good man can be set down anywhere and not suffer by it; at least that’s my opinion. So, Mr. Braswell, right here is where you camp.”

“Just as you say, ma’am.” His surrender was complete now, his weariness was, too. “Probably you’re right—if I tried to go any further tonight it’s likely I wouldn’t be much good tomorrow and I want to be spry and fresh so I can knock around and see if I can’t run across some of my old pardners in the army. But excuse me again—you got my name but you ain’t told me yours?”

“Call me Miss Sissie, if you want to. That’s what nearly everybody does call me. Or else just plain Sis.”

“All right, Miss Sissie, just as you say.” He bowed to her with a grave simplicity. “And I’m sure I’m very much beholden to you, ma’am. It ain’t every day that an old fellow like me is lucky enough to run into such a lovely nice lady as you.”

He drank his coffee, and, being helped to his feet, he went upstairs with some aid from the lovely nice lady and presently was sound asleep in a clean bed in what he regarded as a very fine bedroom indeed. Its grandeur impressed him even through his tiredness.