In a few minutes the barge was alongside the bank, opposite the house. A plank was run across and Walter scampered over it to his friends.
"Bless his little face!" Mrs. Nibson said, as she lifted him up to kiss her. "What a darling he looks, Bill! And he has not forgotten us a bit."
"He could not well forget in a week," Bill said, rather gruffly, for he, too, was moved by the warmth of the child's welcome. "Well, let us go on board and pay our respects. She is a fine barge, surely; and she has got the same name as the child."
"Why, it is not 'Jack,'" his wife said, looking up.
"Jack!" her husband repeated scornfully. "Didn't they call him Walter the other day? Go on, wife; the lady is waiting at the end of the plank for you."
Mrs. Nibson put the child down and followed him across the plank, smoothing her apron as she went.
"My best respects, miss," she said, as Hilda shook hands with her warmly.
"We are glad to see you again, Mrs. Nibson, and hope that you have not missed Walter very much."
"I cannot say that I have not missed him a good deal, miss, but, luckily, we have had other things to think about. We are giving up the farm; it is lonesome here in the winter, and I am going to take to barge life again."
"Well, what do you think of this barge, Mr. Nibson?" Hilda asked.