Mr Caldwell went with the boys,
for they had old Don and the wagon, and made a very pleasant day of it,
going one way and coming home the other, for the sake of showing the
stranger as much of the beautiful country as possible in so short a
time. They all enjoyed the drive and the view of the country, and Mr
Caldwell enjoyed something besides. He was a quiet man, saying very
little, and what he did say came out so deliberately that any one else
would have said it in half the time. But he was a good listener, and
had the faculty of making other people talk, and the boys had a great
deal to say to him and to one another. Unconsciously they yielded to
the influence of the sweet spring air and the sunshine, and the new
sights that were around them, and the sadness that had lain so heavily
on them since their father's death lightened, they grew eager and
communicative, and, in boyish fashion, did the honours of the country to
their new friend with interest and delight. Not that they grew
thoughtless or seemed to forget. Their father's name was often on their
lips,--on Jem's, at least,--David did not seem to find it so easy to
utter. They had both been at the quarries before with their father, and
Jem had a great deal to say about what he had heard then, and at other
times, about the stones and rocks, the formations and strata; and he
always ended with "That was what papa said, eh, Davie?" as though that
was final, and there could be no dissent; and David said, "Yes, Jem,"
or, perhaps, only nodded his head gravely. He never enlarged or went
into particulars as Jem did; and when once they were fairly on their way
home, Jem had it all to do, for they came home by the North Gore road,
over which David had gone so many, many times; and even Jem grew grave
as he pointed out this farm and that, as belonging to "one of our
people;" and the grave-yard on the hill, and the red school-house "where
papa used to preach." And when they came to the top of the hill that
looks down on the river, and the meadows, and the two villages, they
were both silent, for old Don stood still of his own accord, and David,
muttering something about "a buckle and a strap," sprang out to put them
right, and was a long time about it, Mr Caldwell thought.

"We will let the poor old fellow rest a minute," said Jem, softly; and
David stood with his face turned away, and his arm thrown over old Don's
neck.

There was not much said after that, but they