When one is young and life still seems new and fresh and full of bright, ever-changing hues, a few months seem a long period, and one that often brings with it many changes.

And so the year that the Van Kuren children spent abroad was not without its effect upon them. During that time they had travelled through England, France, Italy and Germany, and, under the guidance of their father and their tutor, had learned much of the countries through which they passed, and of the history and customs of the different people. With minds naturally bright and retentive, both Harry and Laura had derived much more profit from their journeyings in foreign lands than most people do, and although they had seen so much and enjoyed so many things, they were both heartily glad to return to their own country.

It was on a bright, sunny morning in the early winter that the steamer in which Mr. Van Kuren had taken passage for himself and 303family, sailed up the superb harbor of New York, while the two children stood on the deck, almost screaming with delight as they recognized such familiar landmarks as the Brooklyn Bridge, Trinity steeple, the Produce Exchange, and even caught a distant glimpse of the Palisades. A tall column of smoke rising from the heart of the great city caught their eye.

“What makes that smoke?” said Harry, to his tutor who was standing beside him.

“I don’t know,” replied Mr. Reed, doubtfully, “But I think it must be a fire. Yes, the smoke is growing denser every moment and now we can see bits of flame in it too.”

“I wonder if Bruce Decker is there, helping to put it out,” exclaimed Harry, impulsively. “I tell you it must be grand to be running to the fires all the time. I wonder how Bruce is getting along, anyway. Don’t you think it’s funny we haven’t heard a word from him?”

Laura did not reply at first but seemed to be interested only in looking intently at the familiar features of the scene about her, but when Harry repeated his question she remarked carelessly, “Oh I suppose he’s too much occupied with his own affairs to bother about us. Anyway, Harry, it is not necessary 304for us to see him any more. He is very well in his way, but not nearly so refined and elegant in his manners as those children we used to play with in Paris. Just compare him with little Victor Dufait for example. Why Victor was the politest boy I ever saw in my life, and it would be a good thing for Bruce, and you too, to copy his manners.”

“Well I’d rather copy Bruce than that little frog-eating Frenchman, any day!” cried Harry. “You think he’s all right just because he bows and scrapes and grins every time he sees you coming. But if you were to play with him and the rest of those fellows, as I did, you’d soon find out that they’re not half as nice as they seem. Besides, I’ll bet that Bruce could lick any two of them with one hand tied behind his back.”

“Well, there are better things than being able to lick other boys, even with both hands tied behind your back,” rejoined Laura, “and I think that Victor is one of the nicest boys I ever met.”

“Well, you can have him for all I care, but I’d like to see Bruce again, and as soon as we get ashore I’m going down to hunt him up.”

“You will do nothing of the sort, Harry,” interjected Mr. Reed, in a tone of quiet determination. 305“You may remember, perhaps, that your father has forbidden you to have anything to do with that young Decker, and I am quite sure that you at least, Laura, have not forgotten the circumstances which led to his making that rule. So I particularly caution you not to set your hearts upon renewing an acquaintance which your father does not consider a desirable one, and my advice is not to mention the matter in his presence.”

The tutor’s words ended all discussion of the young fireman, and very soon afterwards the children went down stairs to make their final preparations for landing. Laura had been partly in earnest in what she said about Bruce. She had made the acquaintance of several boys of foreign parentage during their stay in Paris, and had been greatly impressed with their polished manners and glib tongues. Victor Dufait, whom her brother despised, was a lad well calculated to awaken the admiration of any girl unused to superficial elegance of manners. Always handsomely dressed and neat in his appearance, he was to all outward appearances as gentlemanly and modest a lad, as one could hope to meet, but the boys who played with him knew that his politeness was, as they expressed it, “all put 30............