"Maybe that's how it is," said her aunt. "Well, Dirk'll tell us all about it and the other things he's seen. Now run off, child, and change your frock." Away flew Merran, her spirits higher than for many a long day, for it was not often that the dame talked to her so pleasantly, and as she ran off she repeated her prophecy. "You'll see, auntie," she said. "It's not going to rain at all to-day. It'll be lovely weather." And so it proved. The few clouds that had still looked somewhat threatening, gradually dispersed; when the farmer came in he too seemed very cheery. "If this weather holds on for a while, we'll do famously," he said. "A good thing for Dirk to be back. We'll be none the worse for another pair of strong arms, such as I hope his are by now," and almost as he spoke, there was the sound of wheels approaching the farm-house,--for one of the elder brothers had driven in the market-cart to meet Dirk at the village where the coach was to drop him,--and in another minute in came the traveller himself, eager to greet and be greeted. And a hearty welcome awaited him. He had grown and improved in every way. In fact he was no longer the ugly duckling of the family, but bid fair in a year or two to rival his stalwart brothers. So, naturally, of course, his parents were delighted. "Your uncle has done well by you, and that's a fact," said the farmer, giving the boy a hearty slap on the shoulders. "All the same, I hope he's not given you a liking for his way of life." For the uncle with whom Dirk had been seeing the world for the last year or two, for the benefit of his health, was a sea-faring man--the captain and owner of a small trading vessel. Dirk laughed, but shook his head. "No fear of that," he replied. "I like the sea well enough, but I don't want to be a sailor. No, father, I'm a farmer, at least going to be one I hope." "That's all right," said his father. "And there's no life to compare with the life of the fields, to my mind. There's just one thing to complain of, especially in these parts, and that is the uncertain weather. No telling any day what it may change to--and none of the glasses as I've ever come across is much good, if any. And this year's been one of the changeablest I remember. I wonder why it's so, for we've no hills close about. Maybe it's through being near the sea. I've half a mind to send for a strand of seaweed and hang it in the porch, and see what that'll tell." "Not much good--it changes when the weather does, but not far ahead," said Dirk. Then a sudden idea struck him. "Mother," he went on, "long ago there used to be an old-fashioned kind of weather-teller, up in the garret, do you remember? And not long ago, in Holland, where uncle had to take a cargo, I came across one just like it, and the goodwife of the house told me it never failed them. Suppose we get out our one?" The dame shook her head.