“Yes, that is one of the best farms on the property, and is let to a very respectable man named Churchill. Suppose we walk over to-morrow morning, and I will show you the place?”
John, nothing loath, at once assented.
“The house is old and somewhat picturesque,” continued the squire, “and now that the outbuildings are in such good order, I consider Woodside a sort of model place.”
John expressed himself desirous of seeing it, and he doubtless was. He had not forgotten that Woodside was the Mayflower’s home, and he wished again to look on her fair face.
“There can be no harm in it,” he thought; “it is a very innocent pleasure indeed to admire a pretty girl.”
Accordingly at breakfast the next morning he reminded the squire of his proposition of the night before.
“Didn’t you say, sir,” he said, “that we had to go over and see some model farm or other this morning?”
“Yes, to be sure, Woodside Farm,” answered the squire, “but it had gone out of my head, as things sometimes do now. I am glad you reminded me of it.”
The uncle and nephew accordingly started together almost immediately breakfast was over.
“We will get there, I think, before Churchill gets away among his fields,” said the squire. “I should like you to see him, for I believe him to be a highly respectable man.”