"Mother," began Fred discontentedly, "don't they ever go fishing down here, or swimming, or anything?" Sarah sprang to her feet with a nervous little laugh. "Caleb, we--we might go up home just for--for a visit," she said. "Hurrah!--let's!" crowed Fred; and Ethel clapped her hands. "I'll do it," cried Caleb suddenly, bringing his fist down hard on his knee. "I'll write that we 'll go up next week for three days. There's lots of room, and they can tuck us away somewhere for just that little time. We can show 'em things better than we can tell 'em, and I can close the deal when I get there." It was a jubilant four that left the North Station a few days later, and it was a still more jubilant four that arrived in the village at the foot of the green hills. The Dalton's intended visit had been heralded far and near, and the progress from the train to the farmhouse was a succession of hand-shakes and cordial greetings. "Oh, don't it look splendid and roomy!" cried Sarah, as they reached the turn where they could see the farmhouse. "And don't the air smell good!" "Hm-m," murmured Caleb, and turned his face away with set lips. How crowded to overflowing those three days were! Caleb valiantly tried to give his intended suggestions, but the most of his time was spent in joyous tramps from one end of the farm to the other, that no favorite field nor pet pasture should escape his adoring eyes. Sarah, when not gloating over every tender shoot and starting bud in her flower garden, was being fêted and fed by the entire neighborhood. "Oh, how good it is to just talk!" murmured Sarah, as she went to sleep that first night. As for Fred and Ethel, they were scarcely seen at the farmhouse. Just at dusk on the third day Caleb found his wife in the old summer-house. Wrapped in shawls, she was fastening vines to the trellis. "Well, Sarah, I--I s'pose I'd better settle up with West, now. I hain't yet, you know." Sarah nodded, without speaking. "I hain't seemed to amount to much about telling him things," continued Caleb. "Somehow, I did n't get time. He's careless, too; I'm afraid he ain't going to do well." "She is, too," moaned Sarah. "She don't know a thing about roses. Caleb, do you think that rosebush will get up to that window?" "I don't know," returned Caleb absently. Then, with a choke in his voice, he said: "Things look first-rate, now, but--I've got my doubts of West. I--I wish I could handle them myself." Sarah threw a quick glance at his averted face. "Well--why--don't you?" she almost whispered. "Sarah!" exclaimed Caleb. "Oh, here you are," cried Fred from the doorway. "Say, is it to-morrow we go?--just to-morrow? Why, we have n't done half that we wanted to!" Behind him stood Ethel, her eyes wistful, her mouth drooping at the corners. Sarah drew a quick breath. "Ask--ask your father," she faltered. "Sarah, would you?--would you come back? Do you mean it?" cried Caleb, with a swift joy in his eyes.