"Oh yes, mother," replied the boy, with childish unconcern. "Father said yesterday this would likely be our last day here, so, before we went, I thought to take little Margaret a ride round the garden."
"Good boy. But your father was not in earnest. We shall stay here to-day and many another day besides."
"That is capital! Then I shall have a field to myself, and a strip of meadow, and I can bring up the foal and calf which father gave me."
"That you can and shall do."
"And I shall have my chicken," cried little Margaret.
"You shall, my dear Margaret."
The woman went with the children into the garden, and sat down on a bench in an arbour. There she took the little girl upon her lap, whilst the boy stood beside her, and she gazed alternately at the substantial farm-house and at the pleasant cottage close at hand.
"How dull you are to-day, mother; is anything the matter?" said the boy.
"Nothing, my child—it will pass away."
Through a wicket in the hedge, a countryman entered the farm-yard. He looked about him on all sides, and when he saw the woman, he went up to her.