"Still the same old Mally," he exclaimed with a laugh, and bending down he kissed her cheek. With the horse's bridle over his arm, and his free hand on her shoulder, they went up the path to the house. Joel gave a swift glance round at the rank vegetation.
"There's some need of a pruning knife here," he remarked.
"Aye, Master Joel, you'll find plenty to do now you've come back. I hope you mean to stay and settle down."
He shook his head gaily.
"I'll make no promises," he replied.
He stabled his horse, wandered once round the moss-grown walk under the windows, then entered the parlour and flung himself down in a chair. Breakfast was ready, and he ate it in a strange mood. Five years in the wilderness had greatly changed him. He had lived through wider experiences, tasted fresh pleasures and disappointments, thought other thoughts. But now he had come back to the old life, and already those days were slipping away, and bygone habits reasserting themselves.
"And how are all my friends, Mally?" he asked. "Mistress Lynn is still living, I hear. She must be a tough old stick."
"She's near a hundred."
"Good heavens! Think of living for a hundred years! Fewer will satisfy me!"
"Fewer satisfy most folk."