“Glad to hear _that_, too! Hope you never will! No, Em., no rich old husbands for you! I want you to have a happy life, my girl. By and by, when the proper time shall come, I hope you will wed some good and good-looking young fellow of your own rank, with whom you will be as happy as your mother and I have been all our lives. Yes, the Lord knows, and I thank him,” said John, reverently raising his hat, “that we have been very happy in spite of poverty, sickness, death and the common ills that come to us all. For what is this life but a climbing-place to the higher? And what are these troubles but the stones that must sometimes bruise our feet, and the thorns that may pierce our flesh? When a faithful, loving pair travel this upward road together, Em., they do not mind these troubles by the way. So I hope, my girl, that some day you may be the wife of some honest young fellow of your own class, and not the toy and slave of a rich old husband. But there, I won’t preach any longer. Queen Bess is tossing her head and shaking her ears in impatient scorn of my discourse. She wants to get home to her stall and her oats,” said John, laughing, as he started the white mare. “And she is no better tempered than her namesake,” said Em., as they went along. The rest of the road home was short and easy, leading along the banks of the river, with the woods on one side and the water on the other, and then by a short angle leading through the thicket up to the park gate, which was wide open to receive them, with old ’Sias on the watch to welcome them. Little old ’Sias grinned literally “from ear to ear” as he bowed and continued to bow while the gig rolled through the gate. “I am so glad to see you again, Uncle ’Sias! Come up to the house and talk with us this evening,” said Em. “So I will, miss! ’Deed I feel as you’d been gone a year, more or less!” returned the old man. But they were soon out of hearing, for Queen Bess, finding herself so near home, mended her pace, nor thought of slacking it until drawn up in front of the old red wing. It was soon quite dark, but a cheerful firelight gleamed through the open doors and unshaded windows of the house. All the family came forth to meet Em. with joyful welcomes, as though she had been absent on a six years’ tour in a foreign country instead of a six days’ sojourn in the immediate neighborhood. Mother, sisters and brothers took her in their arms in turn and warmly embraced and kissed her, while the little Italian girl danced frantically around, among them all, waiting for a chance to get at her “Caressima,” as she continually called Em. “Now, Tom, run and put up the horse and gig. You can do the rest of your welcoming after you come back,” said John. The youth ran off to obey his father, and the family party entered the house and passed on into the sitting-room, where a fire of pine logs and cones was blazing up the chimney, lighting up the whole house.