"I hope your cold is better, Mr Greyquill," said she, making to proceed in her walk.,
He sighed and turned to glance back at the cottage resting in the hardwood grove. It looked very homey, very restful to him, beneath its vines of clustering wild-grape and honeysuckle. It was home—home it must be always. And Mary loved it just as he loved it; this he knew. She was a fine woman, a great helpmate, a wonderful wife and mother. She was fair minded too. She loved Billy quite as much as she loved her own son, Anson. Billy must be more careful, more thoughtful of her comfort. He would have a heart to heart talk with his son, he told himself as he went on to the barn.,
"Erie," spoke the boy as they turned to resume their way, "Ma told me to tell you that she'd be over ag'in tonight to stay with you. She's had an awful time keepin' teacher's friends from swarmin' over to see how he was gettin' along an' she says she simply had to promise that they could come over after supper. I guess the whole Settlement is over to our place. I better lope along an' tell 'em the good news." He turned away as they reached the gate—then hesitated..
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