"You needn't carry anything, Aunt Martha. I'm used to running about here loaded."
Miss Lacey glanced up at her quickly. That dark look which had at first met her recognition had now melted into light. There was no mistaking the girl's expression as they stood facing each other behind the shelter of a clump of firs.
"Oh, my dear, my dear!" exclaimed Miss Martha brokenly, grasping her niece's arms and gazing into her eyes, "I am very glad to see you."
"You were kind to come," returned Sylvia, and she kissed Miss Martha's cheek under the scooping hat. Then they walked on.
"What these few weeks have done for you, Sylvia! Perfect rest, good food, the best air in the world, regular hours and no care, ought to work a miracle when one is nineteen, and they have in you. If it hadn't been for those short curls of yours I shouldn't have recognized you at first."
They moved slowly along the path, and Sylvia asked for Miss Derwent.
"She's as happy as the days are long," declared Miss Lacey. "She told me to bring you back if I could."
"How kind. Thinkright will sail me over some day to call. He went to town this morning. I hope he'll not miss your visit altogether."
As soon as they had reached the clearing from which the farmhouse was visible Sylvia gave an exclamation of satisfaction. "There they are; there are the horses! He has come."
They could see the team taken out from the wagon, standing near the barn, their harness dangling while Thinkright and Cap'n Lem were stooping over some object which the wagon hid from the view of those below.