Finally, he folded up the epistle, threw a shilling on the table for his entertainment, and with more speed than was usual, took the road to the west of Broadway. He had been remarkable in days past for his erect carriage, but he walked now with his head bent and his eyes fixed on the ground. There was so much that he did not want to see, though he was naturally the most curious and observant of mortals. Fifteen minutes' walk brought him to the river side, and anon to a large house separated from his own by a meadow. There were horses tied to the fence and horses tethered in the garden; and in a summer-house under a huge linden tree, a party of soldiers drinking and playing dominoes. The front door was partly open, and a piece of faded red ribbon was nailed on its lintel. Semple knocked loudly with his walking-stick, and immediately a stout, rosy woman came toward him, wiping her hands on a clean towel as she did so. "Well, then, Elder!" she cried, "you are a good sight! What is the matter, that you never come once to see us, this long time?" "I come now to bring you good news Joanna--Madame, I should say." "No, no! I make not so much ceremony. When you say 'Joanna' I think of the good days, before everybody was unfriends with each other." "Well, then, Joanna, your husband is back again; as he says, safe and sound, and I promised him to let you know as I passed." "But come in once, Elder--come in!" "Some day--some day soon. I am in haste at this time--and you have much company, I see." He spoke with evident disapproval, and Joanna was at once on the defensive. "I know not how to alter that. A good wife must do some little thing these hard times; for what is to come after them, who knows--and there are many boys and girls--but I am not discontented; I like to look at the bright side, and that is right, is it not?" Semple had already turned away, and he only struck his cane on the flagged walk in answer. For while Joanna was speaking he had casually noticed the fluttering red ribbon above her head; and it had brought from the past a memory, unbidden and unexpected, which filled his eyes with the thin, cold tears of age, and made his heart tremble with a fear he would not allow himself to entertain. He was so troubled that he had to consciously gather his forces together before he entered his own dwelling. It, at least, kept visible state and order; the garden, perhaps, showed less variety and wealth of flowers; but the quiet dignity of its handsomely furnished rooms was intact. In their usual parlor, which was at the back of the house, he found his wife. "You are late to-day, Alexander," she said pleasantly; "I was just waiting till I heard your footstep. Now I can make the tea." "I'll be glad o' a cup, Janet. I'm fairly tired, my dearie." "What kept you so far ahint your ordinar time? I thought it long waiting for you."