How refreshing and strengthening it was upon the tableland that spring afternoon!  The red leaf-buds of the bilberry-wires were just bursting forth, and the clumps of gorse were tinged with the first golden flowers.  Every kind of moss was there carpeting the ground with a bright fresh green from the moisture of the spring showers.  As for the birds, they seemed absolutely in a frenzy of enjoyment, and seemed to forget that they had their nests to build as they flew from bush to bush, singing merrily in the sunshine.

Tim wrapped a cloak round Stephen; and then they faced the breeze gaily, as it swept to meet them with a pure breath over miles of heath and budding flowers.  No wonder that Stephen’s heart rose within him with a rekindled gladness and gratitude; while Tim became almost as wild as the birds.  But Stephen began to feel a little tired as they neared Fern’s Hollow, though they were still two miles from the cinder-hill cabin.

‘Home, home!’ he said, rather mournfully, pointing to the new house.  ’Tim, I remember I used to feel in myself as if that was to be my own home for ever.  I didn’t think that God only meant it to be mine for a little while, even if I kept it till I died.  And when I thought I was going to die, it seemed as if it didn’t signify what kind of a place we’d lived in, or what troubles had happened to us.  Yesterday, Tim, Miss Anne showed me a verse about us being strangers and pilgrims upon the earth.’

‘Perhaps we are pilgrims,’ replied Tim, ’but we aren’t much strangers on these hills.’

‘It means,’ said Stephen, ’that we are no more at home here than a stranger is when he is passing through Botfield.  I’m willing now never to go back to Fern’s Hollow, if God pleases.  Not that little Nan is gone; but because I’m sure God will do what is best with me, and we’re to have no continuing city here.  I think I shouldn’t feel a bit angry if I saw other people living there.’

‘Hillo! what’s that?’ cried Tim.

Surely it could not be smoke from the top of the new chimney?  Yes; a thin, clear blue column of smoke was curling briskly up into the air, and then floating off in a banner over the hillside.  Somebody was there, that was certain; and the first fire had been lighted on the hearthstone.  There was a sharp pang in Stephen’s heart, and he cast down his eyes for a moment, but then he looked up to the sky above him with a smile; while Tim set up a loud shout, and urged the donkey to a canter.

‘It’s Martha!’ he cried; ’I saw her gown peeping round the corner of the wall.  I’ll lay a wager it’s her print gown.  Come thy ways; we’ll make sure afore we pass.’

It was Martha waiting for them at the old wicket, and Bess was just within the doorway.  They were come so far to meet the travellers, and had even prepared tea for them in the new kitchen, having cleared away some of the bricks and mortar, and raised benches with the pieces of planks left about.  Tea was just ready for Stephen’s refreshment, and he felt that he was in the greatest need of it; so they sat down to it as soon as Martha had laid out the provisions, among which was a cake sent by Miss Anne.  The fire of wood-chips blazed brightly, and gave out a pleasant heat; and every one of the little party felt a quiet enjoyment, though there were many tender thoughts of little Nan.