“I’m pretty well, thank thee, Thomas,” said she. Then there was a space of silence, during which Tom was thinking of something to say. This was no easy thing for him to do on the spur of the moment, considering how little he knew of Patty and her ways. He stood with his hands clasped behind him, looking at her and waiting for a thought, and she stood looking down at the toe of her shoe. Presently she raised her eyes to his face for a moment. “Has thee just come back, Thomas?” said she. “Yes; I came back yesterday afternoon.” “Thee’s been gone a long while this time, hasn’t thee?” “About three years.” And then they were silent again. Just then Isaac Naylor came up and spoke to Patty, and she turned partly away from Tom to answer him. It seemed to Tom that it was a relief to her to talk to some one else beside him, and no doubt it was, for she must have felt easier with Isaac than she did with Tom, knowing him so much better. After this, several of the young men came up, and in a little while Patty and his sister were quite surrounded by them, and were presently talking and laughing at a great rate, about people and things of which Tom knew little or nothing. Isaac Naylor stood amongst the other young men; he did not talk to Patty and Mary as they did, but he seemed contented to remain where he was. At last Tom’s brother Henry plucked him by the sleeve of his coat, “Is thee ready to go now, Thomas?” said he. “Father and mother have gone and I’m ready to go if thee is.” Henry was too young yet to talk to the girls with any ease, and so the waiting was no pleasure to him. “Yes; I guess I’m about ready,” said Tom. He felt that he had been awkward and ungainly before Patty, and he would have liked to say a word or two more to her before he left her to set himself straight in her opinion. But he saw no chance for this in all the talk and laughter that was going on around Mary and her, so there was nothing left for him to do but to go. As Henry and he walked along the turn-pike road, numbers of Friends passed them on their way homeward from meeting. There was a clatter of hoofs behind them, and old Elihu Penrose came riding by with Patty back of him on the pillion saddle. “Woah!” cried he, reigning in his horse when he had come up to Tom and Henry. “How is thee, Thomas? I’m glad to see thee back again.” “I’m glad to get back again,” said Tom. “That’s right! I like to hear a young man say he’s glad to get back home again,—it sounds well. Come over and see us some time.” “I will,” said Tom; “I’d like to come over very much.” “Very well; do. Come over soon. Farewell.” Then he clicked to the horse and rode on, turning down the road that led through the shady woods to the old mill. “Patty Penrose’s a mighty pretty girl; ain’t she, Thomas?” said Henry. Tom made no answer, and they walked on in silence. At dinner time, Patty was brought up as a subject of talk. “Don’t thee think she’s very pretty, Thomas?” said Susan.