“I wish he could go,” said Marty.
The boy's pale, wistful face haunted her for a while, but in the excitement of the journey it faded from her mind.
After the rush and roar of the train how perfectly still it seemed in the green valley where stood Trout Run Station! How peaceful the mountains! how pure and sweet the air!
“Mamma,” said Marty almost in a whisper, “everything is exactly the same as ever.”
“Mountains don't change much,” replied Mrs. Ashford as she seated herself on one of the trunks and took Freddie on her lap.
“But I mean this funny little station and the tiny river and the old red tannery over there, and the quietness and everything! And oh, there's Hiram! He looks just as he did summer before last, and I believe he's got on the very same straw hat!”
Hiram, Farmer Stokes' hired man, who had come to meet the travellers, now appeared from the rear of the station, where he had been obliged to stay by his horses until the train had vanished in the distance. His sunburnt face wore a broad smile, and though he did not say much, Mrs. Ashford and Marty knew that in his slow, quiet way he was very glad to see them. He seemed to be particularly struck by the fact that the children had grown so much, and when Freddie got off his mother's lap and ran across the platform, Hiram gazed at him in admiration, also seeming highly amused.
“I can't believe this tall girl's Marty, and as for the little boy—why, he was carried in arms the last time I saw him!”
“Two years makes a great difference in children,” said Mrs. Ashford.
“That's so,” Hiram assented. “Well, I reckon we'd better be moving.”