We laughed, and didn't care. We were too glad to be at home. “But where are our friends?” I asked Pomona. We had actually forgotten them. “Oh! they're gone out for a walk,” said she. “They started off right after breakfast.” We were not sorry for this. It would be so much nicer to see our dear home again when there was nobody there but ourselves. In-doors we rushed. Our absence had been like rain on a garden. Everything now seemed fresher and brighter and more delightful. We went from room to room, and seemed to appreciate better than ever what a charming home we had. We were so full of the delights of our return that we forgot all about the Sunday dinner and our guests, but Pomona, whom my wife was training to be an excellent cook, did not forget, and Euphemia was summoned to a consultation in the kitchen. Dinner was late; but our guests were later. We waited as long as the state of the provisions and our appetites would permit, and then we sat down to the table and began to eat slowly. But they did not come. We finished our meal, and they were still absent. We now became quite anxious, and I proposed to Euphemia that we should go and look for them. We started out, and our steps naturally turned toward the river. An unpleasant thought began to crowd itself into my mind, and perhaps the same thing happened to Euphemia, for, without saying anything to each other, we both turned toward the path that led to the peninsula. We crossed the field, climbed the fence, and there, in front of the tent sat our old boarder splitting sticks with the camp-hatchet. “Hurrah!” he cried, springing to his feet when he saw us. “How glad I am to see you back! When did you return? Isn't this splendid?” “What?” I said, as we shook hands. “Why this,” he cried, pointing to the tent. “Don't you see? We're camping out.” “You are?” I exclaimed, looking around for his wife, while Euphemia stood motionless, actually unable to make a remark. “Certainly we are. It's the rarest bit of luck. My wife and Adele will be here directly. They've gone to look for water-cresses. But I must tell you how I came to make this magnificent find. We started out for a walk this morning, and we happened to hit on this place, and here we saw this gorgeous tent with nobody near but a little tow-headed boy.” “Only a boy?” cried Euphemia.