Then Tom rose to his feet, and gave vent to a cheer which would have done honour to an Englishman.

“Bless me, boy, ye’ll bring the house down,” said Aunt Hepsy, but not looking at all displeased.

“Can’t help it, Aunt Hepsy; it’s surplus steam; must let it off, or I can’t answer for the consequences.”  And he cheered again and again, till Keziah ran to see what was the matter.  She went back to the kitchen saying to herself, “When I see an’ hear that here, I feel like believin’, Deacon Frost, that the world’s comin’ to an end.”

Not the world exactly, Keziah, only the old, hard, miserable days have come to an end for ever, and a new era has begun at Thankful Rest.

XV.

THE WEDDING.

Tom stayed a week at home—­home it truly was to both Lucy and him now, and he left it with regret.  But the work he loved and had chosen called him away, and knowing Lucy would be tenderly cared for, he went back to Philadelphia, carrying a much lighter heart than when he first entered it three months before.  The summer would be a busy one for him; and as the months sped he proved the truth of Mr. Keane’s words, that it was only through much hard, plodding, uninteresting work, that he could ever hope to place his foot on the first step of the ladder.  But he had a kind hand and an encouraging word always ready to help him on, and was happy in his apprenticeship.

Thanks to Aunt Hepsy’s careful nursing, midsummer saw Lucy fully restored to health again.  She had an easy and happy time of it now.  There was no more trotting up and down, no more bending under heavy loads—­it was only very light work her hands were permitted to do; and she would laugh and tell Aunt Hepsy she was making a fine lady of her altogether.

“You do what you’re bid, an’ say nothin’, my dear,” was always Aunt Hepsy’s answer, with oh, what a difference in look and tone.

There was no restriction to her visiting now.  She would spend days at the Red House, in company with her friend Minnie; who, in her turn, would come to Thankful Rest, and keep the house alive with her gay nonsense.

So the summer sped, harvest was ingathered again, and one sunny evening in September, Miss Goldthwaite came up to Thankful Rest on special business.  Rumours were afloat that the parsonage was soon to lose Miss Carrie, but they had not yet been confirmed.

Miss Hepsy was in the garden, and gave the parson’s sister a warm greeting.

“Is Lucy indoors?” Carrie asked, after they had chatted a moment.

“Yes; I heard her singing a minute ago,” answered Aunt Hepsy.  “Jes’ go in and look for her, Miss Goldthwaite; I’ll be in by-and-by.”

“Perhaps I had better talk to you first, Miss Hepsy, as you have the power to grant or refuse what I want.”

“I don’t often say no to ye, Miss Carrie,” said Aunt Hepsy with a dry smile.