, and his old feeling returned, as it
invariably did at times. He walked slowly toward his house.

'Why is it that I so often wish I was rid of that fellow, when he serves
me so effectually?'

Mr. Burns turned before entering, and cast his eyes over the horizon.
Daylight was just streaking the sky from the east. Joel Burns paused,
and directed his glance over the town--the town he had founded and made
to flourish. Tears stood in his eyes. Wherefore? He was thinking of the
time when, after Mr. Bellows's death, he had, step by step, carefully
travelled over this locality, while laying plans for his future career.
Here--just here--he had marked four trees to indicate the site for his
house, and here he had built it.

'Oh, Sarah, why had you to leave me?'

The words, uttered audibly, recalled him to himself. He opened and
passed through the gate, and stepped on the piazza.

'Is that you, father?' It was his daughter's voice. He looked up and saw
her at the window. 'I heard you go out, and I have been watching for you
ever since. Did Mr. Meeker get off?'

'Yes.'

'Wait, father, and I will come down and take a walk with you. Wouldn't
you like it?'

'Yes, dear, very much.'

They walked on together in silence. Presently Sarah perceived they were
going in the direction of the burying ground. Mr. Burns entered it with
his daughter, and soon stood by his wife's grave.

'She left us early, my child. You do not forget her?'

'Oh no, father!'

'Do you remember all about her--_all_?'

'Yes, everything.'

'I know it--I know you do. Why is it, Sarah, that lately I feel more
solitary than usual?'

'Do you, father?'

'Yes, since--' He paused, unwilling, it would seem, to finish the
sentence.

'You know, father, I have not been quite so much with you since Mr.
Meeker came. You are more in the office.'

'So I am. I wish--' He hesitated again. Evidently something oppressed
him.

Just then the first slanting rays of the morning sun gleamed over the
place--pleasant rays, which seemed to change the current of Mr. Burns's
thoughts, lighting up his soul as they were lighting the universe.

He spoke cheerfully: "Let us run home, now. And, Sarah, won't you see
that we have a very nice breakfast? Early rising has given me an
appetite."

CHAPTER X.

All this time the stage was conveying Hiram Meeker toward his
goal--toward Elihu Joslin. He reached New Haven in time for the boat,
and early the following morning was in