"Indeed it does!" cried Mrs. Nelson. "Sometimes I cannot bear it!"
"If I were you I would sell out and go elsewhere," suggested the squire, coming around to the subject that was on his mind. "Perhaps a little trip somewhere would do you a world of good."
"It would do her good," put in simple-minded Mrs. Corcoran, who believed the squire sincere.
"I cannot afford a trip," sighed Mrs. Nelson. "Besides—I—I—sometimes think that Ralph may come back," she faltered.
"Never, in this life, widow," returned the squire, solemnly. "Alas! the dead never return, no matter how much we love them."
"Sometimes they do, Squire Paget!" cried a young voice from the open doorway, and Ralph sprang into the room. "Mother!"
"Ralph, my son!" screamed Mrs. Nelson. "Thank Heaven for its many mercies!"
And she thew herself into Ralph's arms, while the tears of sorrow were quickly turned to tears of joy.
Squire Paget was dumbfounded. He stared at Ralph as if the boy was an apparition.
"Is it really you, Ralph?" he stammered at last.