“I suppose he puts up with your rivalry the same as ever?” asked Mrs. Blackett. “You and he are as friendly as ever, I see, Almiry,” and Almira sagely nodded. “He’s got too many long routes now to stop to ‘tend to all his door patients,” she said, “especially them that takes pleasure in talkin’ themselves over. The doctor and me have got to be kind of partners; he’s gone a good deal, far an’ wide. Looked tired, didn’t he? I shall have to advise with him an’ get him off for a good rest. He’ll take the big boat from Rockland an’ go off up to Boston an’ mouse round among the other doctors, once in two or three years, and come home fresh as a boy. I guess they think consider’ble of him up there.” Mrs. Todd shook the reins and reached determinedly for the whip, as if she were compelling public opinion. Whatever energy and spirit the white horse had to begin with were soon exhausted by the steep hills and his discernment of a long expedition ahead. We toiled slowly along. Mrs. Blackett and I sat together, and Mrs. Todd sat alone in front with much majesty and the large basket of provisions. Part of the way the road was shaded by thick woods, but we also passed one farmhouse after another on the high uplands, which we all three regarded with deep interest, the house itself and the barns and garden-spots and poultry all having to suffer an inspection of the shrewdest sort. This was a highway quite new to me; in fact, most of my journeys with Mrs. Todd had been made afoot and between the roads, in open pasturelands. My friends stopped several times for brief dooryard visits, and made so many promises of stopping again on the way home that I began to wonder how long the expedition would last. I had often noticed how warmly Mrs. Todd was greeted by her friends, but it was hardly to be compared to the feeling now shown toward Mrs. Blackett. A look of delight came to the faces of those who recognized the plain, dear old figure beside me; one revelation after another was made of the constant interest and intercourse that had linked the far island and these scattered farms into a golden chain of love and dependence. “Now, we mustn’t stop again if we can help it,” insisted Mrs. Todd at last. “You’ll get tired, mother, and you’ll think the less o’ reunions. We can visit along here any day. There, if they ain’t frying doughnuts in this next house, too! These are new folks, you know, from over St. George way; they took this old Talcot farm last year. ’Tis the best water on the road, and the checkrein’s come undone—yes, we’d best delay a little and water the horse.”