“Yes, if you don’t do what I tell you.”

“I won’t.”

“We’ll see.”

“Very well, father, we will see.”

“If you weren’t such a sick kid I’d trounce you.”

* * * * *

You could approach Antonville by surrey, buggy or foot ... along a winding length of dusty road ... or muddy ... according to rain or shine.

My Uncle Beck drove me out in a buggy.

Aunt Alice, so patient-faced and pretty and sweet-eyed in her neat poverty—­greeted me with a warm kiss.

“Well, you’ll soon be well now.”

“But I won’t work on a farm.”

“Never mind, dear ... don’t worry about that just yet.”

* * * * *

That afternoon I sat with Aunt Alice in the kitchen, watching her make bread.  Everyone else was out:  Uncle Beck, on a case ...  Cousin Anders, over helping with the harvest on a neighbouring farm ...  Cousin Anna was also with the harvesters, helping cook for the hands ... for the Doctor’s family needed all the outside money they could earn.

For Uncle Beck was a dreamer.  He thought more of his variorum Shakespeare than he did of his medical practice.  And he was slow-going and slow-speaking and so conscientious that he told patients the truth ... all which did not help him toward success and solid emolument.  He would take eggs in payment for his visits ... or jars of preserves ... or fresh meat, if the farmer happened to be slaughtering.

* * * * *

“Where’s Granma?” I asked Aunt Alice, as she shoved a batch of bread in the oven.

“She’s out Halton way ... she’ll go crazy with joy when she gets word you’re back home.  She’ll start for here right off as soon as she hears the news.  She’s visiting with Lan and his folks.”

When I heard Lan mentioned I couldn’t help giving a savage look.

Aunt Alice misinterpreted.

“What, Johnnie—­won’t you be glad to see her!... you ought to ... she’s said over and over again that she loved you more than she did any of her own children.”

“It isn’t that—­I hate Landon.  I wish he was dead or someone would kill him for me.”

“Johnnie, you ought to forgive and forget.  It ain’t Christian.”

“I don’t care.  I’m not a Christian.”

“O Johnnie!” shocked ... then, after a pause of reproach which I enjoyed—­“your Uncle Lan’s toned down a lot since then ... married ... has four children ... one every year.”  And Alice laughed whimsically.

“—­and he’s stopped gambling and drinking, and he’s got a good job as master-mechanic in a factory....

“He was young ... he was only a boy in the days when he whipped you.”

“Yes, and I suppose I was old?...  I tell you, Aunt Alice, it’s something I can’t forget ... the dirty coward,” and I swore violently, forgetting myself.

At that moment Uncle Beck appeared suddenly at the door, back from a case.