“I’ll draw a kitten for you if you like,” answered Tom readily, “but I can’t promise to come up and do it.”

Before very long Billy was harnessed again, and after bidding a reluctant good-bye to the Peak for another year, the descent was begun.  Lucy walked part of the way with Mr. George Keane’s arm to help her along, and Miss Goldthwaite beckoned Tom to her side.

“I haven’t seen much of you to-day, Tom,” she said pleasantly.  “Have you had a nice day?”

“I shall never forget it, Miss Goldthwaite,” answered Tom very gravely.

And though after years brought many happy excursions up the Peak, never was one so exquisitely enjoyed as this had been.  The sun had dropped behind the hill when the tired party reached the Red House, and a big moon was coming up serenely in the opal sky.  Mr. and Miss Goldthwaite paused at the avenue gate, saying they would not come any further; so the good-nights were said there and the company separated.

“Good-night, my little poetess,” whispered the judge as he lifted Lucy from the waggon.  “Go on writing, my dear; we will hear of you yet.”  And he kissed her as he set her to the ground, and added softly, “You have done an old man good to-day though you did not know it.”

It was a very quiet walk home by the river-side to the parsonage, but the thoughts were all pleasant ones.  Mr. Goldthwaite had not spoken much to Lucy all day, but he had watched her, how closely she did not know.  He held her hand at parting, and looked straight into her beautiful eyes, his own very grave and earnest.

“God bless you, Lucy; good-night.”  She wondered a little at the oddness of his manner.  “My soldier has shown to advantage to-day,” said Miss Carrie, smiling as she shook hands with Tom.  “I have been very proud of him.”

“Lucy,” said Tom, as they turned into the paddock at Thankful Rest, “do you know what I’m going to do when I’m a man?”

“Be a great painter,” answered Lucy promptly.  “What else?”

“Anything else?” inquired she in much surprise.

“I’m going to marry Miss Goldthwaite!”

Lucy laughed outright.

“You can’t, Tom; she’s going to marry Mr. George Keane, Minnie told me.”

“Is she?  Well, Mr. George Keane is a very good fellow,” said Tom in a tone which would have infinitely amused that gentleman had he heard it; “but he isn’t half good enough for her.—­O Lucy, hasn’t this been a day?”

“Yes,” answered Lucy, and she turned full eyes up to the quiet sky.  “I think papa and mamma must see us, and be glad we have been happy.”

“I feel so too,” answered Tom with the sudden beautiful earnestness which had often come to him of late.—­“Kiss me, Lucy; there are only you and I.”

She put her arm about his neck, and kissed him as he wished; then the two went very soberly into the house.

X.