to eat. I see
another tablecloth in your basket, Mrs. Ballard. If you'll be good
enough to just hold that corner, we can cover everything up good, so,
and then I'll walk about a bit and call them all together." And the
kindly lady stepped briskly off through the woods, still talking,
while Mrs. Ballard and Mrs. Walters sat themselves down in the shade
and quietly watched the coffee and chatted.

It was past the noon hour, and the air was drowsy and still. The
voices and laughter of the nut gatherers came back to them from the
deeper woods in the distance, and the crackling of the fire where
Bertrand attended to the roasting of the corn near by, and the gentle
sound of the lapping water on the river bank came to them out of the
stillness.

"I wonder if Mr. Walters tied the horses good!" said his wife. "Seems
as if one's got loose. Don't you hear a horse galloping?"

"They're all there eating," said Mary, rising and looking about. "Some
one's coming, away off there over the bluff; see?"

"I wonder, now! My, but he rides well. He must be coming here. I hope
there's nothing the matter. It looks like--it might be Peter Junior,
only he's here already."

"It's--it's--no, it can't be--it is! It's--Bertrand, Bertrand! Why,
it's Richard!" cried Mary Ballard, as the horseman came toward them,
loping smoothly along under the trees, now in the sunlight and now in
the shadow. He leaped from the saddle, and, throwing the rein over a
knotted limb, walked rapidly toward them, holding out a hand to each,
as Bertrand and Mary hurried forward.

"I couldn't let you good folks have one of these fine old times
without me."

"Why, when did you come? Oh, Richard! It's good to see you again,"
said Mary.

"I came this morning. I went up to my uncle's and then to your house
and found you all away, and learned that you were here and my twin
with you, so here I am. How are the children? All grown up?"

"Almost. Come and sit down and give an account of yourself to Mary,
while I try to get hold of the rest," said Bertrand.

"Mrs. Dean has gone for them, father. Mrs. Walters, the coffee's all
right; come and sit down here and let's visit until the others come.
You remember Richard Kildene, Mrs. Walters?"

"Since he was a baby, but it's been so long since I've seen you,
Richard. I don't believe I'd have known you unless for your likeness
to Peter Junior. You look stronger than he now. Redder and browner."

"I ought to. I've been in the o