Now and again Nell would walk for a mile or two while her grandfather rode inside, and sometimes even the schoolmaster would take her place and lie down to rest. So they went on very happily until they came to a large town, where the wagon stopped, and they spent the night.
When they had passed through this town they came into the open country, and after a long ride began to draw near the schoolmaster's new home.
"See—here's the church!" cried the delighted schoolmaster in a low voice; "and that old building close beside it is the school-house, I'm sure. Five-and-thirty pounds a year in this lovely place!"
They admired everything—the old gray porch, the fine old windows, the gravestones in the green churchyard, the old tower, the very weather-cock, the brown thatched roofs of cottage barns peeping from among the trees, the stream that ran by the distant water-mill, the blue mountains far away.
"I must leave you somewhere for a few minutes," said the schoolmaster at length. "I have a letter to present, you know. Where shall I take you? To the little inn yonder?"
"Let us wait here," said Nell. "The gate is open. We will sit in the church porch till you come back."
"A good place, too," said the schoolmaster, leading the way towards it, and placing his bag on the stone seat. "Be sure that I will come back with good news, and will not be long gone."
So the happy schoolmaster put on a pair of new gloves which he had carried in a little parcel in his pocket all the way, and hurried off, full of pleasant excitement.
Chapter XII.
PEACE AFTER STORM.