ndow, smiled at him and shook her
rolling-pin. "Then we'll start off to-morrer, bright an' early. I don't
know how you feel, Mis' Jakes, but I'm possessed to git home."

Lydia, for her part, was soberly glad, yet there was a part of her
anticipation that was incredible to her. For even after her spiritual
uplift of the moment before, the first thought that throbbed into her
mind, like a temptation, was that of the album on the centre-table.

They drove off in the morning brightness, and Eben declared he had a
good mind to give away his remaining essences and put for home as hard
as he could pelt.

"We might cut right across country," he tempted himself. "No matter 'f
we planned suthin' different. But then we couldn't see aunt Phebe."

"You're real fond of her, ain't you?" asked Lydia absently. She was
wondering if aunt Phebe would speak of his first wife.

"She was mother's only sister," said Eben, in the deeper tone attendant
on his mother's name. "She took care of mother in her last days. I guess
we never had a mite o' family trouble but aunt Phebe was there about as
soon as she could board the train."

"Eben," said his wife, in her timid way of stealing on his confidence.
It seemed now like a shy fashion of convincing him that she was worthy,
if he would but let her, to know his heart.

"What is it?"

"Don't you think some things--some troubles--are too hard to be talked
about?"

"I guess they be," assented Eben.

"We keep thinkin' an' thinkin' 'em over, but we can't speak. Mebbe
'twould be better for us if we could."

"Mebbe 'twould." Then he pulled out his pipe, as he did when the chariot
of his affections neared an emotional pass. Eben was willing to graze a
wheel by that abyss, but he skillfully avoided falling over.

They were climbing a long hill; and the horse, head down, sagged
sleepily along, pulling faithfully. But at the top he halted, as if it
seemed he knew what was below, and waited for their wonder. Lydia's eyes
were closed, and Eben had drawn the first puff at his pipe.

"There," said he, "what think o' that?"

Lydia opened her eyes and gave a little cry. They seemed to be at the
top of everything,--winding roads, like ribbons, patches of green that
were ample woods, three dotted villages, and, full flare in their faces,
the sunset sky. The red and gold of it had spread and lavished until
the eye, to rest itself, was almost forced, for a calming glimpse, back
again to the cold blue ea