"Oh, I'm so glad you didn't. I'm so glad you didn't! You'll wait while I pack?" He patted her shoulder. "Yes, oh, yes. I'll wait." CHAPTER VII THE MILL FARM Sylvia's sleep that night in Portland was profound. A sense of peace and safety had grown upon her from the time she took the train out of Boston with her new companion; and the next morning she awoke refreshed, in a chamber filled with sunlight. She dressed and went down to the dining-room of the boarding-house where they were staying, and found her cousin standing by the window looking out on the fresh green of tall elms that shaded the quiet street. "Well, well," he said, turning to meet her bright eyes. "Spring outside, and spring inside. You've had a good sleep, little one." He held out both his hands, and Sylvia put hers into them. "Dear me, I'm afraid it's noon," for now she noticed that breakfast had been served. "No, we have time still to make the train I told Cap'n Lem to meet, and eat a little something into the bargain." The speaker moved to the table and rang a bell. "Oh, you've waited too long for your breakfast," said Sylvia. "No, indeed! Been watching the orioles that are bringing up a family out in that tree. Busy times, I tell you. Makes me think of the day Calvin and I wanted to rob an oriole's nest,--hang-birds, we called them,--and a little girl with short curls and a sunbonnet wouldn't let us do it; a girl who'd stand only a little higher than your elbow." "Mother?" asked Sylvia softly. Jacob Johnson nodded, and they sat down to breakfast. An hour later they were speeding along in the train nearing the town which was their destination. "I never have been on a farm, Cousin Jacob," said Sylvia. "'Tisn't much of a farm we have here," he replied. "Just enough to raise a living for ourselves and the stock in the winter. The chief business is fruit and vegetables for the summer folks. Cal--the owner of the place likes this part of the world for what time he can get off in summer, so he bought this little farm and hired me to run it. That was ten years ago. I wasn't enjoying the business I was at in those days, but I was just learning to think right about things then, and I knew I'd be shown something else if it was best, and so I was." "What made you know it?" asked Sylvia. Her companion smiled without looking at her. "How do you know the sun is shining this morning and the apple-trees are in blossom?" "Why, I can see that." "I saw, too, Sylvia. It's a great thing when you begin to see." The girl observed her companion's half-averted face curiously. "Who lives with you at the farm?" she asked. "My two helpers. Good Cap'n Lem Foster and his daughter-in-law, young Lem's widow. She's an excellent cook. Can you cook, little one?" "I?" the girl laughed. "I can make Welsh rarebit." Her companion patted her hand. "Sam Lacey brought you up, didn't he?" he remarked.