if I kept it till I died. And when I thought I was
going to die, it seemed as if it didn't signify what kind of a place
we'd lived in, or what troubles had happened to us. Yesterday, Tim, Miss
Anne showed me a verse about us being strangers and pilgrims upon the
earth.'

'Perhaps we are pilgrims,' replied Tim, 'but we aren't much strangers on
these hills.'

'It means,' said Stephen, 'that we are no more at home here than a
stranger is when he is passing through Botfield. I'm willing now never
to go back to Fern's Hollow, if God pleases. Not that little Nan is
gone; but because I'm sure God will do what is best with me, and we're
to have no continuing city here. I think I shouldn't feel a bit angry if
I saw other people living there.'

'Hillo! what's that?' cried Tim.

Surely it could not be smoke from the top of the new chimney? Yes; a
thin, clear blue column of smoke was curling briskly up into the air,
and then floating off in a banner over the hillside. Somebody was there,
that was certain; and the first fire had been lighted on the
hearthstone. There was a sharp pang in Stephen's heart, and he cast down
his eyes for a moment, but then he looked up to the sky above him with a
smile; while Tim set up a loud shout, and urged the donkey to a canter.

'It's Martha!' he cried; 'I saw her gown peeping round the corner of the
wall. I'll lay a wager it's her print gown. Come thy ways; we'll make
sure afore we pass.'

It was Martha waiting for them at the old wicket, and Bess was just
within the doorway. They were come so far to meet the travellers, and
had even prepared tea for them in the new kitchen, having cleared away
some of the bricks and mortar, and raised benches with the pieces of
planks left about. Tea was just ready for Stephen's refreshment, and he
felt that he was in the greatest need of it; so they sat down to it as
soon as Martha had laid out the provisions, among which was a cake sent
by Miss Anne. The fire of wood-chips blazed brightly, and gave out a
pleasant heat; and every one of the little party felt a quiet enjoyment,
though there were many tender thoughts of little Nan.

'We may be pilgrims,' said Tim reflectively, over a slice of cake, 'but
there's lots of pleasant things sent us by the way.'

They were still at tea when the gamekeeper, who was passing by, and who
guessed from the smoke from the chimney, and the donkey grazing in the
new pasture, that some gipsies had taken possession of Fern