II
Mrs. Babbitt returned in August.
On her previous absences he had missed her reassuring buzz
and of her arrival he had made a fête. Now, though he dared
not hurt her by letting a hint of it appear in his letters, he
was sorry that she was coming before he had found himself,
and he was embarrassed by the need of meeting her and looking
joyful.
He loitered down to the station; he studied the summer-resort
posters, lest he have to speak to acquaintances and
expose his uneasiness. But he was well trained. When the
train clanked in he was out on the cement platform, peering
into the chair-cars, and as he saw her in the line of passengers
moving toward the vestibule he waved his hat. At the door
he embraced her, and announced, "Well, well, well, well, by
golly, you look fine, you look fine.'' Then he was aware of
Tinka. Here was something, this child with her absurd little
nose and lively eyes, that loved him, believed him great, and
as he clasped her, lifted and held her till she squealed, he
was for the moment come back to his old steady self.
Tinka sat beside him in the car, with one hand on the
steering-wheel, pretending to help him drive, and he shouted
back to his wife, "I'll bet the kid will be the best chuffer in
the family! She holds the wheel like an old professional!''
All the while he was dreading the moment when he would
be alone with his wife and she would patiently expect him
to be ardent.
