"Why, no, John!" and she blushed, not that she had a beau, but through maiden coyness. "You are the only one I've got, John." Supper was then announced. James, who brought John from town, came in after putting away the horses. And they all sat down in happy reunion once more. For John was home. "What was the cause of your delay, John?" asked Michael Winthrope, the father. "Oh, by the way, father, I must tell you about it," answered John, laughing heartily, and looking slyly at James, who was now dressed in his best clothes, and presented as good an appearance as John himself. "I have two lady friends, who--" "Why, John!" exclaimed the mother, looking over her glasses. "Wait, mother; will you hear my story?" said John, turning a happy smile upon his mother. "As I was going to say, I have two lady friends stopping at the Summit House. One is the daughter of my employer; the other her cousin. They saw us, as we were coming by, and, of course, we saw them. Knowing them as I do, I could not come on without the formality of greeting them. I introduced James to them, mother; and what do you think?--" "Now, John, you mustn't be too severe on me," said James, modestly, "for I don't pretend to your polish since you went away." "Never mind, James; you are a capital fellow, after all--but, mother, James and sister here"--turning to Anne--"saw them the other day, and they are--they think he and sister cannot be beaten as--roving mountaineers--no, they didn't say that sister"--turning to his sister again--"They did say they would come out to see us, if you will drive in for them." "Law, me, John; we have no place here to entertain such grand people. What do you mean?" asked the mother, holding up her spoon, and shaking it with a remonstrative motion as emphasis to her thoughts. "Wait, mother; wait, and hear me out, before remonstrating any further," said John, cheerfully. "They wouldn't accept my invitation; but they want sister to drive our old rig in for them, and extend the invitation to spend the day with us. They thought it would be so romantic to go on a lark with little sister"--turning to her again with such a fond look that Anne beamed under his countenance. "Will you go, sister?" he asked. "Shall I, mother?" asked Anne. "If John says so. What do you say, James?" asked the mother. "That is up to John," responded James. "And father?" asked the mother. "Whatever John says about it," replied the father. "Now, everything is up to you, sister," said John. "Are you going?" "Why, of course, brother," she answered. "When?" "Tomorrow," replied John. So it was settled. That night, as John lay down to sleep in his old bed, so pure and white, in a little room up stairs, he heard again, above the screeching insects, the booming frogs, the wailing owls, that old sweet song that carried him into the slumberous land of nowhere--"Good bye! Good bye!"--as on so many nights before.