ldly wisdom which comprehends and condones.

His packing finished, with one last glance at the room Austen went
downstairs with his valises and laid them on the doorstep. Then he went
to the stable and harnessed Pepper, putting into the buggy his stable
blanket and halter and currycomb, and, driving around to the front of
the house, hitched the horse at the stone post, and packed the valises
in the back of the buggy. After that he walked slowly to the back of the
house and looked in at the kitchen window. Euphrasia, her thin arms bare
to the elbow, was bending over a wash-tub. He spoke her name, and as
she lifted her head a light came into her face which seemed to make
her young again. She dried her hands hastily on her apron as she
drew towards him. He sprang through the window, and patted her on the
back--his usual salutation. And as she raised her eyes to his (those
ordinarily sharp eyes of Euphrasia's), they shone with an admiration she
had accorded to no other human being since he had come into the world.
Terms of endearment she had, characteristically, never used, she threw
her soul into the sounding of his name.

"Off to the hills, Austen? I saw you a-harnessing of Pepper."

"Phrasie," he said, still patting her, "I'm going to the country for a
while."

"To the country?" she repeated.

"To stay on a farm for a sort of vacation."

Her face brightened.

"Goin' to take a real vacation, be you?"

He laughed.

"Oh, I don't have to work very hard, Phrasie. You know I get out a
good deal. I just thought--I just thought I'd like to--sleep in the
country--for a while."

"Well," answered Euphrasia, "I guess if you've took the notion, you've
got to go. It was that way with your mother before you. I've seen her
leave the house on a bright Sabbath half an hour before meetin' to be
gone the whole day, and Hilary and all the ministers in town couldn't
stop her."

"I'll drop in once in a while to see you, Phrasie. I'll be at Jabe
Jenney's."

"Jabe's is not more than three or four miles from Flint's place,"
Euphrasia remarked.

"I've thought of that," said Austen.

"You'd thought of it!"

Austen coloured.

"The distance is nothing," he said quickly, "with Pepper."

"And you'll come and see me?" asked Euphrasia.

"If you'll do something for me," he said.

"I always do what you want, Austen. You know I'm not able to refuse
you."

He laid his hands on her shoulders.

"You'll promise?" he asked.

"I'll