Charles Stuart. "I'm goin' to
have a drink, anyhow."

A rusty tin dipper hung over the well, and they helped themselves. The
sound of the pump brought a little figure round the corner of the old
log barn.

At the sight of Elizabeth, Eppie came running up the path. She was
barefooted, as Eppie always was except on Sundays, and wore a coarse,
gray wincey dress and a big apron. Poor Eppie's clothes were all much
too large for her, for the little girl had no woman's deft hand to
dress her. She shyly slipped past the boys and took hold of
Elizabeth's hand. Her big, pathetic eyes shone with joy. "Oh, Lizzie,
I'll be that glad to see you," she whispered in her old-fashioned way.
Perhaps it was her long dress, but somehow Elizabeth always had the
impression that poor Eppie had always been old and grown-up. "Come
away down to the barn and see grandaddy," she added, including the
boys. "There's two men down there an' they're goin' to take
grandaddy's house away from him, only the master says he won't let
them."

Here was exciting news. The boys ran on ahead, and Elizabeth and Eppie
quickly followed, the former plying her hostess with wondering
questions.

A smart horse and a shiny top-buggy were standing in the barnyard. In
the vehicle two men were seated, and beside them stood old Sandy and
Mr. Coulson. The schoolmaster was using the first two or three days of
his holidays in which to bid farewell to his Forest Glen friends.
Elizabeth had heard him say he would do so, yesterday in school, and as
she caught sight of him she could not help thinking he must have said
good-by to hundreds and hundreds of people that day, since he had
started so early. The speculation passed dimly through her mind as to
how many of them he had kissed.

But her chief feeling was one of joy at the sight of him, and keeping
hold of Eppie's hand she went round to the side of the horse where he
stood. Elizabeth was shy and frightened in the presence of strangers,
unless some unusual encouragement brought her older self to the fore,
when she could converse with the ease of an accomplished society woman.
But the sight of these smart-looking strangers, evidently from town,
filled her with discomfort, and she shyly drew up behind Mr. Coulson.

"But, Mr. Oliver," he was saying, "there must surely be some justice in
his claim. Why, Mr. McLachlan has lived here for twenty years, and
changed the place from dense woods to what you see now."