For the first time in his life Jerome had turned coward.
One day, when Lucina had been gone about a month, he was coming home from Dale when he heard steps behind him and a voice shouting for him to stop.

He turned and saw Colonel Jack Lamson coming with breathless quickening of his stiff military gait.
When the Colonel reached him he could scarcely speak; his wheezing chest strained his coat to exceeding tightness, his face was purple, he swung his cane with spasmodic jerks.

"Fine day," he gasped out.
"Yes, sir," said Jerome.
It was near the end of February, the snow was thawing, and for the first time there was a suggestion of spring in the air which caused one, with the recurrence of an old habit of mind, to listen and sniff as for birds and flowers.
The two men stepped along, picking their way through the melting snow.

"The doctor has ordered me out for a three-mile march every day.

I'm going to stent myself," said the Colonel, still breathing hard; then he looked keenly at Jerome.