han an episode in his
life. Cynthia smiled to herself as they walked through the orchard to the
place where the horse was tied, but she was a little remorseful. This
feeling, on the drive homeward, was swept away by sheer elation at the
prospect of the trip before her. She had often dreamed of the great world
beyond Coniston, and no one, not even Jethro, had guessed the longings to
see it which had at times beset her. Often she had dropped her book to
summon up a picture of what a great city was like, to reconstruct the
Boston of her early childhood. She remembered the Mall, where she used to
walk with her father, and the row of houses where the rich dwelt, which
had seemed like palaces. Indeed, when she read of palaces, these houses
always came to her mind. And now she was to behold a palace even greater
than these,--and the house where the President himself dwelt. But why was
Jethro going to Washington?

As if in answer to the question, he drove directly to the harness shop
instead of to the tannery house. Ephraim greeted them from within with a
cheery hail, and hobbled out and stood between the wheels of the buggy.

"That bridle bust again?" he inquired.

"Er--Ephraim," said Jethro, "how long since you b'en away from
Coniston--how long?"

Ephraim reflected.

"I went to Harwich with Moses before that bad spell I had in March," he
answered.

Cynthia smiled from pure happiness, for she began to see the drift of
things now.

"H-how long since you've b'en in foreign parts?" said Jethro.

"'Sixty-five," answered Ephraim, with astonishing promptness.

"Er--like to go to Washington with us to-morrow like to go to
Washington?"

Ephraim gasped, even as Cynthia had.

"Washin'ton!" he ejaculated.

"Cynthy and I was thinkin' of takin' a little trip," said Jethro, almost
apologetically, "and we kind of thought we'd like to have you with us.
Didn't we, Cynthy? Er--we might see General Grant," he added meaningly.

Ephraim was a New Englander, and not an adept in expressing his emotions.
Both Cynthia and Jethro felt that he would have liked to have said
something appropriate if he had known how. What he actually said
was:--"What time to-morrow?"

"C-callate to take the nine o'clock from Brampton," said Jethro.

"I'll report for duty at seven," said Ephraim, and it was then he
squeezed the hand that he found in his. He watched them calmly enough
until they had disappeared in the barn behind the tannery house, and
t