"Why, Adam, dear old friend, this is too much; it really is. I cannot let thee do it," protested Mrs. Kaye, astonished at the sight. For there were vegetables of every sort that grew at Burnside, with hams and bacon, some very lively chickens, and baskets heaped with the grapes and pears for which the Clove was famous.
"Too much, Salome? I think not. Not judging by the samples of appetites I've seen this noon. Say nothing. Thee knows how gladly I give it, and would give much more. Here, Amy, is a little letter for thee. I wish thee to keep it without reading until—" he hesitated, looked at her gravely, and finished his sentence—"until thy own heart tells thee that the right time is come. For Hallam, too, there is a bit of writing, and that he may read at any time he chooses."
"That's right now, then," laughed the lad, and eagerly tore the sealed envelope.
Adam Burn winced a little at the ragged edge this made on the paper, for he was a careful person and hated slovenliness. But he could not refrain a smile as he saw the expression of disappointment growing upon Hallam's face, where he sat upon black Balaam, his crutches crossed before him, looking down at the open sheet he had found. The envelope dropped to the ground, and Amy picked it up; but her brother did not show her the message he had received, and she was puzzled to hear their old friend say:—
"The truth which I have written there is better for thee than a fortune, Hallam."
"It may be, but, under the circumstances, I'd rather have the fortune."
"Thee'll find it, lad, never fear. Thee'll find it."
Amy thrust the envelope into her pocket, along with the letter Adam had given her, and a moment later they all passed out of the yard, and turned toward the knoll of Bareacre. The last glimpse they had of their friend showed him standing in the sunshine, leaning upon his cane, and gazing after them as they vanished from his sight.
"There is something different about that blessed old man to-day," said Amy to Hallam, riding with him beside the carryall.
"Well, I suppose it makes him feel badly to know we are not going back to Fairacres. He always does feel other people's troubles more than his own."